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And then he moves, pushing in and pulling out, his hips rolling with expert precision. The energy surrounding us is both languid and hot as Hades. I don’t want Finn to ever stop. I want him this close to me always.
The sound of our lovemaking fills the room and takes me to the edge over and over again. He kisses the side of my neck, my shoulder. Takes my nipple between his teeth, licks and sucks. My boobs have always been a big erogenous zone and the combo of Finn’s mouth and surging cock has me falling into my third orgasm. I very loudly let him know how high he’s taken me and then it’s his turn.
“God, Chloe,” he mumbles before he thrusts once, twice, three times the charm, and groans through his own release. He stills inside me once again so we can hold on to our connection a little longer before he rolls off of me and onto his back.
I lower my arms, exhausted in the best possible way.
He gets up and walks toward the bathroom. His ass is round, firm, and I have the sudden urge to bite it. To mark it.Property of Chloe Conrad.I’ve stared at his backside in baseball pants numerous times, unable to look away, but seeing him in his birthday suit is insanely better. I roll onto my side so as not to miss a second of his departure. He disappears into the bathroom, I hear some rustling and the sink being turned on, and then I’m blessed with his return.
Jesus, I can’t believe he’s real. Muscles, muscles and more muscles in collaboration with a face so handsome I have to glance away for a second to catch my breath.
He joins me back on the bed, lying on his side so we’re looking at each other.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi.”
“You hungry?” I don’t know about him, but I’ve worked up an appetite.
“I could eat.”
“Don’t move.” I pick his shirt up off the floor and put it on, buttoning just two middle buttons before I hurry to the kitchen. The starched cotton falls to the middle of my thighs and smells like Finn, a mix of man and clean laundry. I grab a few plates out of the fridge. The stuffing needs to be warm so I microwave it for two minutes. Turkey is delish cold. So is apple pie. I tuck napkins and a couple of forks into my hand, and snag the dish towel hanging on the oven door.
The main light is on in my room and Finn is sitting against my headboard wearing his underwear when I walk back in. I can’t believe he’s in my bed. I can’t believe what we just did. My cheeks heat at the thought. I don’t know why I’m feeling shy after the fact. Maybe because I’ve had a few minutes to think about it and I highly doubt I’m the kind of girl Finn normally hooks up with. His degree of cool and mine are on epically different levels.
Not that he’s ever made me feel inadequate. Quite the opposite, actually.
“Here we go,” I say, laying the dish towel and plates of food on the bed between us. I hand him a fork.
“Looks like you brought my favorites,” he says. “Thank you.”
“I may have noticed what you ate the most of.”
He forks a piece of white meat turkey. “So, is this the house you grew up in?”
I dig in to the apple pie. The next bite will be stuffing. The combo is better than chicken and waffles. “Yes. We moved here when I was three weeks old.”
He looks around the room. “I’m going to take a stab and say blue is your favorite color.”
“How observant of you,” I tease. My bedding, the walls, the few pieces of framed artwork, are all in shades of blue. “What’s your favorite?”
“Brown.”
“Like dirt brown or dark chocolate brown?”
He dips his head and peers onto my eyes. “Somewhere in between.”
Oh.I take a bite of stuffing, then apple pie, then stuffing. Keeping my mouth full seems wise at the moment. Otherwise, I might blurt out how much I like Finn and I’m trying really hard to do whatever we’re doing without feelings getting involved.
Finn makes a face. “What are you doing?”
“Eating.”
“I can see that, but it looks like you’ve got a unique system going on.”
“Don’t knock it till you try it.”
“Okay.” He puts his fork down, looks at me expectantly.
