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“Sorry,” she said, pulling back a little.
Finn adjusted her body, pulling his legs together as he spread her thighs over his lap, setting one knee on each side of him. His robe was still closed about her waist, but Claire looked down to find that it gaped open at the top, and spread widely at the bottom, pulling tight across her hips. Finn sat forward and growled, just before he reached into the vee at the neck of the robe and pushed it wide around her breasts. He stared down at them for a moment, his mouth open wide, then he nudged her higher and brought her left breast to his lips.
Claire’s breath caught when he gently tongued the rigid peak, and she squirmed to get closer to him. The ridge of his manhood pressed against her aching cleft. Claire spread her legs wider and snuggled down closer to him.
“Just a minute,” he warned as he reached between them and unbuttoned the fall of his trousers. He pulled the turgid length of himself free and then tugged her knees forward, pulling her tighter against him. “God, Claire, you’re going to unman me.”
Finn’s hands gripped her naked bottom tightly, kneading the tender flesh, as he brought her forward to slide back and forth along his length. Claire could see the tip of his erection as it shimmered in the firelight, moving back and forth, but not sliding inside. “Plea
se, Finn,” she murmured against his lips.
Claire reached between them and took his erection in her fist. She pointed him toward the core of her, the part that wept with want for him. “Claire,” he moaned.
Claire wasn’t certain what to do.
Finn sucked her earlobe between his lips and suckled it gently. His fingertips slid up to the pointy tip of her ear and back down. “Put me inside you,” he said, his voice low by her ear. Where his voice was broken before, it was volcanic now. It was full of heat and want. “Put me inside you, Claire.”
Finn bent his head and took her nipple into his mouth again as his other hand strummed at the other breast. Claire’s slit wept with need, and his manhood was shiny wet with his strokes against her cleft. But this was not enough. She ached. She needed him.
“Take me inside, Claire,” he ground out.
Claire took him in her fist again and pulled his manhood away from his body, aiming it toward that pulse that pounded so loudly inside her. “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted. She chuckled, a weak sound, and laid her forehead against his naked chest.
Finn took himself in one hand and raised her bottom a little with the other. His hardness pressed at her softness and the tip of him slid inside. Claire stilled as he filled her just that much. He didn’t advance. He stayed still as a statue, with just the crown of his manhood inside her.
Then he pulled her forward and down all at the same time, filling her in one solid stroke. Claire cried out. He filled her completely and totally. Claire looked down between them and saw through the slit in the dressing gown that he was indeed buried to the hilt inside her. “Mine,” he said.
“Yes,” she breathed. Then she rocked forward. She wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do. Not at all. But the noise that left his lips told her it was good.
He was hard as iron inside her, and his hands firmly gripped her buttocks, rocking her back and forth. He pulled her hard onto himself, and Claire thrilled when he began to push her back and pull her forward and down until she was riding his manhood. His rhythm grew more forceful, and Claire took up some of it with her knees and her hands on his shoulders. When she was moving freely on him, he pulled one hand away from her bottom and touched the place between her thighs that he’d rubbed so well and so forcefully before, the place that had made her shatter and break into a million pieces.
He strummed his finger across that aching little bundle of nerves, and Claire’s legs began to shake as tension built within her. It was like water pushing at a dam. With enough force, the dam would break. And so would she.
“Does that feel good, Claire?” he asked. His voice in her ear made her sheath clench around him and he groaned loudly, biting his lower lip between his teeth. His face was a mask of emotion. His jaw clenched so tightly that a muscle ticked in his cheek. “Claire,” he groaned.
“Finn,” Claire cried as his fingers and his manhood pumping inside her pushed her toward that precipice.
“Claire,” he ground out. “I need to come. I’m going to come so deep inside you. I like the way you wrap around me and squeeze me. And I want to feel you squeeze my manhood when you come. I want to feel the ripples of sensation as you reach the peak with me.”
His fingers pushed harder against that special place as she continued to ride him. Claire lost her breath as he continued to talk to her. To tell her how much he liked her riding him, how much he liked having her on top of him. How much he liked having her be in control of how fast or slow he took her. “I am yours to do with as you will. But I need for you to come, Claire.”
Claire cried out as the waves of sensation crashed over her. She stilled on top of him and rocked with the waves of her release, and he grunted beneath her and began to pulse within her. His release was a hot wash of fluid, almost as powerful as hers. She pulsed around his manhood, and he grunted and groaned as he said dirty things in her ear. She didn’t know what many of them meant, but he said them with such power and force as he emptied his seed inside her that she continued to pulse. Her culmination wasn’t complete. It was ongoing. And when he’d finally wrung all the pleasure from her and stilled beneath her, the warm wash of his spending leaked between then.
“Don’t move, Claire,” he said. “I’ll get something to clean us up. I’m afraid you’re a mess.”
Heat crept up her cheeks, but she really didn’t care. She’d just rode his manhood until they’d both found that sweet release. She’d just taken him. All of him. And he’d given all of himself back to her. He reached for the towel he’d pulled from her hair and brought it down between them.
“Be still, Claire,” he warned as he slipped out of her. “Claire, are you having your menses?” he asked.
“What?”
“You’re bleeding, Claire,” he warned. He kissed her forehead. “Don’t worry. I don’t mind. But it would have been good to know.” He chuckled.
Claire looked down between them and her heart leaped into her throat. She was bleeding. Her blood bathed his manhood, mixed with his seed. “Oh God, Finn,” she cried. She scuttled back from him, placing a hand over her belly where their child lay. “Something is wrong, Finn,” she cried. Tears pricked at the backs of her lashes. “Something is wrong. Call for a physician. Do it now!”
“I don’t think it’s as bad as all that, Claire,” he said.
“Now, Finn,” she screamed. “Call for a physician. Now!”
