Kinky Boots(16)

But it was Finn who was definitely the centre of Jill’s attention. He was having a very difficult time concentrating on the task at hand. His erection was about to burst his fly, and she knew that cock intimately. And wanted it. In spite of her best efforts to lie still on the table and mentally take in the weight of the fact that she was undergoing an exorcism, she was horny as hell, and dignity was not an easy thing to maintain.

It was Meinrad who finally broke the chant. ‘Damn it, Finn, Eleanor’s being stubborn. It’s up to you to coax her out.’

‘What does that mean?’ Jill asked. ‘Why is it up to Finn?’

‘Because he’s the one she trusts the most,’ Chelsea said.

Finn came to her side and took her hand in his. ‘Jill, that means we might need to get very intimate, are you all right with that?’

She wanted to say no. She wanted to be indignant. After all, none of this had been her idea, none of it had been her fault, and yet she wanted him so badly she could barely stand it. She pulled him down to her and kissed him savagely, tonguing his hard palate and running a hand down to stroke the straining of his erection through his jeans. ‘If you need to fuck me, Finn, I’m OK with that,’ she said. Even before the words were out of her mouth and he slipped onto the table next to her, she wondered how she could be so nonchalant about having sex with this man, a man she barely knew, with an audience she knew even less. And yet she felt like if he didn’t mount her soon, she’d rip off her panties and take herself right here in front of them all. Was Eleanor making her feel this way? It didn’t seem like it. It seemed like it was all her, all the pent-up sexual frustration of so many years of never having time for sex, never having confidence to seek out a partner, and now she wanted it. She wanted it badly.

She lifted her bottom and allowed Finn to slide off her knickers. And, as he pushed her legs open, everyone got a glimpse of her down there where she was hot and needy. Why wasn’t she embarrassed? She opened her blouse and worried her bra cups down so her nipples peeked over the top like two hard little marbles. All the while she watched, anticipated, as Finn unzipped and untucked and shoved his trousers down until she could grab his bare bum as he positioned himself. And they were watching – Meinrad with his monster cock and Chelsea with her tight little breasts. Jill wondered if they could hold off and continue to chant all official-like while Finn took her. She bet they couldn’t.

For a second she thought it was Chelsea making the little gruntings, the little girl-like whimperings and whinings, but it was her. It was her lifting her bottom, holding herself open with two fingers, raking at herself like there was no tomorrow. It was her, certain beyond a shadow of a doubt that if Finn didn’t fuck her soon, she’d die, sacrificial lamb or not.

And when he wriggled into position and pushed up tight against her begging pout, she quivered all over in anticipation. She knew what he felt like. Dear heaven, she knew what he felt like, had known what he felt like for a very long time. He was the reason she stayed, the reason she agreed to their silly little pact, the reason she wanted flesh and blood and breath to channel her lust.

With a harsh grunt he pushed in, and Jill surfaced from a pool of thoughts that weren’t hers, from feelings that were in themselves almost enough to make her come. And Finn began to thrust.

He was saying something. It wasn’t a chant. It was something she should probably listen to, would probably have been able to if his pubic bone hadn’t raked her clit so deliciously every time he thrust.

‘Eleanor, please,’ he was saying. ‘You have to come out of Jill. She didn’t ask for you. I promise, if you do, you can be in me as much as you want.’

Jill wrapped her legs around his hips, grabbed his hair and pulled his mouth down to hers. ‘I don’t want to be inside you, Finn Masters. I want you to be inside me. Don’t you understand?’ Had she said that? It certainly was true, wasn’t it? She wanted the man to shag her brains out. She reached to grab his butt and pull him closer, deeper into her, and he groaned.

‘Eleanor, please,’ he whispered breathlessly between ravishing kisses. ‘Jill didn’t invite you. You’re going where you weren’t invited. Please don’t do this.’

In peripheral vision that was somehow clearer and brighter than she ever remembered, Jill could see that Meinrad did indeed have equipment proportionate to his body and it was now jutting from his open fly, shoving, bloated and stiff, in and out of the man’s fisted hand, and he was still chanting.

On the other side of the table, Chelsea had a hand under her T-shirt pinching and tugging a nipple while she rode the other hand like she was a cowgirl on a bucking bronco. But she was still chanting in unison with Meinrad.