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His hands find their way to my hips, gripping me on both sides to make me feel supported and safe like it doesn’t matter how fragile I might be because his firm grip will keep me from breaking.
His tongue laps over me repeatedly, swirling around and making quick flicking movements over that one spot that sends sparks through me, making my hips buck, my eyes roll, and my head falls back against the pillows.
I don’t even have time to be embarrassed at the thought of his tongue on me like that. I can feel pure pleasure coursing through my veins and encompassing my entire body.
It’s so intense, but when Finlay shifts and moves one of his hands, pulling away from me for a moment, I realize I’ve been right at the peak of something. A wave has been building and building – and I hear myself groan sadly, not wanting that incredible feeling to be taken away.
A moment later, though, his mouth is on me again, hot and wet, and something else. It’s his hand, a finger working its way under his chin and over my entrance, stroking, spreading the wetness I can feel, and then….
Inside.
I throw my head back so far that I nearly fall off the couch, gasping and moaning.
Finlay works me with both his tongue and fingers, pushing in and out of my hole and then swapping so that his tongue is diving into me while his fingers work that bundle of nerves that respond to him so easily.
That’s the last push I need. I feel myself tumbling at high speed and then soaring, crying out, my hips jerking as I feel wave after wave of pleasure washing over me repeatedly.
And through it all, Finlay carries on until I start to come down and whimper with the intensity of it all, only then sitting up to watch me with those glimmering dark eyes of his.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
Finlay
“Lunch, madam,” I say in a faux-British accent, with my best impression of a waiter as I place a silver dome down in front of Alanna. I lift the lid with a flourish to show her what I whipped up in the kitchen.
A grilled cheese sandwich, no less.
She giggles at the display of finery over such a simple item. “Just how I like it. Thanks.”
I take a mock bow, then chuckle and sit down in my place opposite her at the table.
“I would have found you something a bit more interesting, but the chef only comes in when we have parties or guests these days. Otherwise, there’s no point in him being here.”
“That’s perfectly fine,” she says, and there is a little twinkle in her eye, which I fancy I must have put there myself. “A man who can cook is always appreciated.”
I chuckle at that. “I would hardly call this cooking,” I say, but inside, a part of my brain stores this statement away for future examination.
If she’s thinking of me that way, perhaps my ‘taster’ worked. Perhaps she is beginning to see what I can offer her if she stays.
“It’s close enough,” she says, then blushes. “Actually, I can barely cook anything myself. This is pretty close to my limit. I thought I would learn at college, but the cafeteria was just so convenient I always ended up eating there.”
I grin. Well, she will never need to learn to cook if she doesn’t want to. I will see to that.
“I don’t mind doing it myself, but I’m not as good as the chef. It’s always a relief to have him in on those days when there’s a lot to do. Grilled cheese sandwiches are fine, but a five-course meal for thirty is not in my wheelhouse.”
“That sounds like you’d need an army of chefs,” Alana says, her eyes widening.
I glance around the small lunchroom quickly, remembering again that she’s new to all of this – to the things I have been accustomed to since I was a child.
“You’re right there,” I nod. “And an army of waiters. We hold that kind of thing in the formal dining room. It seats up to fifty, and we have the option of the ballroom if we want to seat more than that. Anyway, those days aren’t so frequent anymore. We used to host weddings and shooting parties every week before we went the conservation route.”
Alana nods. “Did it impact the business a lot?” she asks.
I cast her a sidelong look as I take a bite of my food.
Is she asking whether I still have any money?
From what I know of her so far, it seems out of character – but I can never be too careful.
