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“Please, Finn, I need you,” I crooned, dipping down to press an open-mouthed kiss to his pecs. He shuddered when I moved my tongue around the area, palpating the skin softly.
That this man could react so strongly to me fired my blood like nothing else could. I’d missed this, missedhimso fucking much.
I knew this side of him. Knew how to read him. Knew how it affected the man outside of the bedroom, and without this aspect of our relationship, I felt like I was walking blind. The intimacy was gone, and I hated that. It was like missing a limb. I’d lived pretty much my whole life without sex, but after a few months with Finn in my world, I never wanted to be without it, withouthim,again.
“Are you sure you’re ready for it?” he asked, his voice almost soundless as he breathed the words.
“I need you,” I purred, hoping against hope that I didn’t sound stupid and, instead, sounded sultry and sexy. “I’m so empty, baby.”
He was still for a second, then he murmured, “Stay where you are.”
Resting on my good side was the only real way I could get comfortable, but I faced outward and not toward the center of the bed. To accommodate him, I had to be maneuvered across the mattress.
By the time he’d helped me move so I was centered on the bed and farther down, I was feeling a lot less sexed up. Pain had made my brow sweat because I was on my back with pressure directly on the wound, but I knew Finn. I knew what he tasted like, what he felt like, and I needed that.
This intimacy was important to my mental health, but more than that, he was a craving in my blood. An addiction that hadn’t been fed in over two months.
He was breathing heavily when he rounded the bed, not from exertion but from excitement.
It never ceased to astonish me that I could do that to this man. This gorgeous creature who would make any woman drool. Whose body was made for sinning, but whose face was that of an angel.
My mouth watered as the automatic spotlight from the yard bled through the blinds for a second, illuminating his chiseled jaw before flashing over his pecs and delineated abs. I saw his cock too, and realized he’d pulled off his briefs.
Fuck, I wanted to be naked too. Wanted to feel his skin against mine but I couldn’t.
Not yet.
I shuddered as he approached me, and he tilted up so his hips were slightly angled for me to suck him without exerting myself.
His scent floored me. Pure man. Mine. Musk. Soap. They hit me in waves of longing that had me wishing I could take him into my body, but not yet. Not yet.
Soon, though. Soon.
I licked my lips, gathered spit in my mouth, then slipped him inside, dragging my tongue down each crevice and curve. He moaned, his body stiffening, and I tasted pre-cum.
So delicious. How had I not appreciated the sticky saltiness before?
“Fuck, Aoife, fuck,” he ground out, and one hand gently cupped my head and the other grabbed a hold of the sheet.
I knew he wanted to grab my head. Wanted to fuck my mouth. We were rough together, and he didn’t treat me like I was fragile. But now? I was like glass in his hands and though I loved him for it, I longed for the time when he could do what he wanted—whatIwanted—to me.
Slurping him down like he was my favorite soft serve, I tormented him by grabbing his balls and rubbing them in my palm. Each time I felt his cock twitch like he was going to cum, I twisted them gently and tugged down. Every time I did it, he swore, and his fingertips dug into my skull just a little bit harder as the rocking of his hips grew jerkier with need.
“Fuck, baby, please. Please, Aoife,” he demanded, his tone robbing the words of his pleas. I loved that about him. Always so fucking arrogant, this man. My man.
I took him as deep as I could in this position and swallowed around him as I gently released his balls from my grip.
“Oh fuck,” he spat, sounding anything but pleasured as his cock jerked in my mouth and he pelted me with his seed.
The first time he’d done this to me, I remembered being disgusted by his taste. Now? I swallowed every drop without hesitation.
His panting breaths sounded thready in the quiet room and I slowly released his shaft from my mouth. Gripping him again, I sucked at the tip, cleaning him off and dipping my tongue to make sure I got every last drop of his cum.
He shivered and bit off, “Fuck, Aoife, no. Enough.”
I smiled, content I’d pleasured him, and rested my head on his lower belly.
Was I tired? Yeah. I was. Sore? That too. But I was even more achy between my thighs.
