Page 64 of One Last Job


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She flushes underneath me. “Yes. I have a collection.”

I hum and drop my head to the crook of her neck. “You’ll have to show me sometime.”

“I could do that,” she says coyly. “What’s your favourite colour?”

“Right now? Purple.”

She laughs and the tail end of it jumps up a pitch or two as I tug her panties down and slide a finger along her entrance. She’s so fucking warm and slick, and the realisation sends a jolt straight to my already hard cock.

“God, Amber.”

She shudders beneath me and bucks her hips forward, trying to coax my fingers inside. “Finn.”

“All right, sweetheart,” I say as I laugh. Right now, my focus is on making her feel good. My desires — to take it slow and take my time exploring every inch of her body, learning what makes her tick and moan — can take a back seat here. There will be plenty of time for that later.

I pull my hand back, ignoring the way she huffs in protest, and then bring two fingers up to her lips. “Suck these for me.”

Her eyes widen a fraction, but she does exactly what I say. She doesn’t break eye contact as she takes both fingers in her mouth and swirls her tongue around them. When I pull them out, they’re slick with her saliva.

“Good?” she asks, a brow raised in challenge.

“You tell me.”

I kiss her again and swallow her moan as I simultaneously slip two wet fingers inside her and begin to pump.

“God. Fuck.Finn.”

My cock twitches every time she says my name.

Her head rolls back between her shoulders, mouth parted in a tiny ‘o’ as I bring my thumb to her clit and press down. I learn quickly that she likes long, slow strokes, and that when I want to hear that moan again — the low one that I can feel reverberating against my chest — I just have to curl my fingers inside her and grin as she shakes beneath me.

I want to learn more. Discover how she’ll react if I play with her nipples or sink my teeth into her thighs or flip her over and pump my fingers into her from behind. I want to know what she tastes like and figure out what the ultimate combination is to drive her over the edge and have her lying across my chest spent, satisfied, and beaming.

But she’s close and there’s no time for any of that right now. I can tell by the erratic way her chest begins to rise and fall, and her moans are becoming more breathy, more desperate.

This time is supposed to be all about her, but I guess I’m a selfish man at heart because I do give into one of my urges.

I pull the elastic of her panties and let it snap back against her hips. “I need these off, sweetheart.”

She lifts her hips without question, seemingly working on autopilot now that she’s so close. I pull her panties down so they pool around her ankles and then crouch down and hook her legs over my shoulders. The sharp tips of her heels dig into my back as she locks her ankles, and I don’t mind the small pinch of pain that shoots through me. In fact, it spurs me on. Definitely something to unpack later, but I like it.

“I just need you to do one thing for me.”

“What’s that?” she gasps out.

“Come.” I lean in and run my tongue along her opening. She nearly bucks off the desk, but I hold her hips in place as I mimic the movements I’d been doing with my fingers as best I can with my tongue.

Her thighs are wrapped so tightly around my face, I can just about hear her moan my name.

“Finn.”

Her body stiffens beneath me as she rocks faster and faster into each stroke of my tongue. She squeezes her thighs even tighter still and I think this might be the way I go. I wouldn’t even mind.

Death by the best pussy I’ve ever had the privilege of tasting. What an epitaph.

I can feel every pulsation against my tongue and when she finally gets there, when she finally reaches that peak and tips over the edge, her grip becomes almost vicelike.

I hear the muffled sound of my name again and pull myself backward, gently spreading her thighs apart so I can free myself and sit upright again.

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