Font Size:  

What made it even better was he didn’t make sex all about himself like some men did. He not only knew how to please her, but cared about how he went about it.

Suddenly his hips stuttered, then paused. And when he released her nipple, a shuddered breath escaped him.

The look in his eyes and the sharp cut of his jaw all screamed that he had reached his limit of taking it slow. Of making it last longer.

“Mel.” Her murmured name on his lips almost sounded like a plea. Or an apology.

Maybe even a warning.

The man was done.

But then, so was she.

Her answering, “Finn,” told him she was okay with whatever he needed to do next.

The tension in his jaw loosened and he blew out a breath. With a single nod, whether to her or himself, he bared his teeth and began to fuck her harder and a hell of a lot faster, circling his hips at the end of each thrust. She lifted her own over and over to meet his, encouraging him with her movement, her words, and by driving her nails into his muscular ass cheeks.

Because if he slowed down again, she would scream.

Luckily, he didn’t. As if a switch had been flipped, he pounded her over and over. Never slowing down. No longer teasing, but all business.

Wrapping her hands around his head, she pulled him down, but avoided his mouth and instead, buried her face against his throat. The deep grunts accompanying each thrust vibrating against her lips.

She licked along his pulse line and traced the strained cords of his neck. But it didn’t take long before he broke free so he could brace his hands on either side of her head and continue to drive into her without mercy. His grunts become louder as each thrust powered by his muscular thighs slammed the air out of her lungs.

His name fell from her lips over and over. She begged him not to stop and pleaded for him to keep going. She wanted everything he was giving her and more.

Her orgasm approached like a slow moving storm. Shocks of lightning, crashes of thunder surrounded her, swallowing her whole. Making her muscles twitch, her toes curl, her heart race until…

She was done.

Done.

So damn done.

Her back arched and her body twisted when a climax ripped through her, dragging Finn along for the ride. With his knees anchored into the mattress, he powered up and into her once… twice…

She might have imagined her name spilling out of him because she wanted to hear it and not because he said it. And when he stilled deep inside her with the root of his cock pulsing, she also wished the thick jets of cum filled her and not the condom.

The first might have been reality and not only in her head, but the second was pure fantasy. At least for now. If they continued down this current path, that could possibly change.

Would she want it to? Could she envision Finn remaining in her life once her part in the investigation was over?

With a groan, he collapsed on top of her, his skin hot and damp, his breathing irregular and his heart knocking against her chest.

Their bones must have turned to liquid since both were incapable of moving.

Or it could be that neither wanted to be the first to burst the bubble of contentment they were currently cocooned in.

They lay quietly, the only sounds to be heard were of their still unsteady breaths and the soft snores of her dogs curled up in their beds.

It wasn’t long after cleaning up, they were also curled up together and softly snoring, too.

As soon as she fed the dogs, she had climbed back into her warm bed and tangled herself up with Finn. Even though she needed to get up soon to make them breakfast and get ready for work, she wanted to delay it as long as possible.

That hammered home the fact she’d never been so attached to a man before. It should disturb her but, surprisingly with Finn, it didn’t. If any man would be the reason for losing some of her independence, at least she picked a good one.

One that respected her, despite her line of work.

One that treated her like a partner, and not a lesser.

One that recognized her savvy business sense, and didn’t consider her a brainless twit because of how she looked and dressed.

One who seemed to support her desire to start her own strip club and didn’t try to steer her toward a more public-perceived “respectable” profession.

Finn didn’t seem to care she’d been a stripper for years. He didn’t seem to care she managed a strip club.

He didn’t seem to care about what she wore to work.

Some men would have a hard time dealing with at least some of it, if not all. They might lie and pretend it was okay when in fact, they secretly hated it.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
Articles you may like