“You smell good,” he said inhaling deeply.
I tilted my head so he could have easier access to my neck. His lips skated down the column and landed on my shoulder. His erection thrust against my stomach.
“Let’s take this off,” he said and whipped my top off faster than I thought possible since I was lying down, but he was so big and strong, he could do things like that to me. And I loved it.
"I promised to do something about this earlier,” I said and pushed a hand against his chest. He fell back easily and spread his arms wide.
I straddled him, wearing only my underwear, but I didn't feel an ounce of discomfort. His eyes were so intensely admiring, there was no room to feel inadequate. I reached down and began to undress him as he had me.
The clank of the metal of his buckle sounded like a loud bell in the quiet. His breathing was still steady, but the muscles in his torso were tense in anticipation. I unzipped him and found his thick erection folded awkwardly down his left leg. "This looks uncomfortable," I commented, pulling it upright and admiring the long length of it.
"You have no idea," he said, sounding strangled.
As I held him in my hands, it seemed to grow longer, wider. "Is it me, or are you getting longer?"
"Baby, he's never been subject to such an amazing inspection. I think he's showing off for you."
"I like that."
"He likes you. It's a mutual admiration society. He'd really like it if you squeezed him—hard."
"Like this?" I fisted him in my hand and squeezed.
"Ahhh, harder."
"Will I hurt you?" I felt like I had a pretty sturdy grip.
"Not gonna happen." He placed his hand around mine and pressed twice as hard as I would've ever imagined he would like and then began moving my hand up and down in rough, hard strokes.
"This is what you like?" I said, mimicking his action. I wondered if I could do it as well as him. My hands were so much smaller, my touch so much more tentative.
"Yes, like that." I twisted my hand slightly, and he hissed. "Just like that. God, your hand feels good. So much better than my own."
"How about this?" I bent down and licked the top. His hips came off the ground. Guess he liked that too. He helped me push his jeans down and then reached behind his back with one hand and ripped his T-shirt off.
"You're an evil tease," he said roughly. "But I like it."
I licked him over my fingers, still stroking him as he showed me. The turgid veins felt prominent against my tongue, so I traced those all over—the front, the underside, to the mushroom-shaped cap. Then I took him in as far as I could go, which, to my dismay, wasn't very far. His hand came up to tangle in my hair and cup the backside of my head. But he didn't push—rather he followed my movements, pulling my hair out of my face, probably so he could watch. But I was watching too. Through my eyelashes, I looked upward at his face, which had grown more starkly beautiful. The skin pulled tightly across his cheekbones, and the flush of arousal painted high angry red streaks across his face. He looked like a warrior even though I was doing the claiming.
He tasted wonderful—clean, salty, and fully male. It wasn't a taste that could be replicated or bottled. You could only get it at the source. I felt addicted, as if I would never be able to get enough of him.
"You look like you're loving this," he groaned, raising himself to rest on his elbows. The muscles in his abdomen tightened, making him appear even stronger and harder.
"I am." I grinned because while I loved his taste, I loved the glazed look of pleasure on his face more. He looked worshipful. I bent down and applied my own version of reverence. I sucked on the tip and used my hands to cover the area I couldn't get into my mouth.
"Your mouth," Finn choked out, "feels so damn good."
He panted and made more low rumbly sounds as I licked and stroked him until his thighs tensed. He tugged on my hair.
"Gotta stop, baby. I'm going to come."
I ignored him, and his hand tightened in my hair. He thrust into my mouth, lost in his own excitement. His careful touches and his watchful gazes were gone, replaced by a wild, uncontrollable response. His mouth fell open, and then he came, flooding my tongue with his warm seed. I swallowed as he pulsed against my tongue, and he cursed, repeatedly, desperately.
"Baby, baby," he croaked. He pulled me up and tongued me deeply. His body was heated, his chest sweaty, and I felt warm all the way through. "You didn't have to do that."
He wiped a finger along the corner of my mouth. In the moonlight, his sapphire eyes looked black under his ridiculously long lashes.
"I wanted to." My tongue darted out to lick his thumb, and the corresponding groan he released shook his frame. I loved the noises he made—deep, low, gravelly. They made me feel powerful. I took and he gave, and it was different than we'd had before.