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“I know what you’re doing,” she accused him when he teased her there with only a flick of his tongue. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take.
He paused and lifted his head. Totally opposite of what she wanted. “What am I doing?”
“Edging.”
“I don’t even know what that is.”
Right. “Liar.”
He had the nerve to chuckle. “I take it you’re not enjoying it?”
Oh, she was. But she also wasn’t. “I’m about to shatter but not in a good way. Make me come.”
“I plan on it. Why are you in such a rush?” The corners of his lips twitched.
“Finn,” she growled, digging her nails into his scalp and pushing his head down. “Stop talking and get back to work.”
With his upper body pinning down her thighs, when he shook with amusement this time, he made her shake, as well.
“Oh my God! You’re enjoying this way too much!”
Ignoring her outburst, he sucked on her clit, but just as she was getting into it, he lifted his head again. “Was that torture?” He then ran his tongue from the bottom of her pussy back up to her clit. “Was that torture?”
“It was so fast I couldn’t tell. Try it again.”
He dropped a soft kiss to the top of her mound. “Like that?”
Out of frustration, she began to scramble from under him but he only put more weight on her, thwarting her attempts to get free.
Without another word, he began to eat her pussy in earnest. Like he hadn’t eaten a meal in a month.
Yesssss. Finally!
Her head dropped back to the pillow and her back arched when she drove her hips up, encouraging him to give her more. She couldn’t get enough of his mouth toying with her clit. His lips sucking, his tongue circling. The light scrape of his teeth against her sensitive nub and over her slick folds.
“Finn,” she groaned, her fingers flexing as she got closer and closer to the elusive edge. She only needed a little more. She was so damn close.
He dragged a finger down through her wetness and back up before slipping one finger inside her, then a second...
And… he was gone. Gone! Leaving her hanging. His breath, his lips, his fingers only a fleeting memory.
As she opened her mouth to complain, he was back, his knees separating her legs even wider and the thick head of his latex-covered cock taking the place of his fingers. He slid it back and forth through her slick folds, opening her up to him.
Sliding his chest along hers, his skin brushed over the hard points of her nipples and dragged over her piercings, giving them a delicious pull. Capturing her mouth, he stole both her breath and her moan.
She fought the instinct to close her eyes, to lose herself in what would happen next. Instead, she kept her gaze glued to his as he filled and stretched her inch by inch. Still not in any kind of rush.
It hit her then. The reason he had gone slowly and took his time. By doing so, he was savoring every moment of this time together. It allowed her to do the same.
What was happening between them was now past the point of him only being a fake boyfriend. Or of this only being about sex. Along the way, a connection had grown. Even in just the few short weeks they’d know each other.
Did he realize it and want her to discover the same? Possibly.
Or was she overthinking this whole thing and making more of their relationship than it was? Simply a working one.
But what started as him staying over the first night he came to her place, quickly turned into him staying every night in her bed. Fake boyfriends didn’t do that.
Sometimes real boyfriends didn’t, either.
None of this was about his job. It also wasn’t about hers. No, this went beyond them joining forces to work with the task force and against an outlaw MC.
With each roll of his hips, they came together and moved apart like they were both on stage doing body rolls. It was smooth and coordinated. Finn knew how to control every muscle. He could move his hips during sex as expertly as he could on stage.
Gliding his fingers along her rib cage, he flicked a curved barbell with his fingernail before trapping a nipple and rolling it roughly between two fingers. His mouth traced her pulse along her throat before moving down to suck on the other puckered nipple.
His powerful and broad back flexed under her nails, as she scraped them over his heated skin, most likely leaving marks behind as they continued the dance of two lovers.
But it wasn’t a fast-paced salsa, it was a sensual bachata.
On one hand, she was anxious for the explosive finish to their routine. On the other, she wasn’t ready for it to end. Because it was that damn good.
