Finn came for her like she was his only source of oxygen—of life itself. Skye threaded her fingers through his hair, lips slightly parted as he claimed them for his own again. Desire, strong as ever, oozed through her body as the memory of her recent climax faded, replaced by a need she had never felt before. She squealed softly when Finn yanked her back to the edge of the counter, hands roaming her figure at his leisure before they slipped beneath her, cupped her backside, and lifted her up to him. Arms wrapped around his neck, she caught his lower lip with her teeth, reveling in the warning growl that rumbled deep within his chest.

There was something primal about him. Something animalistic in the way he looked at her, in the way he handled her. At first glance, Skye never would have guessed that was the case. While breathtakingly handsome, Finn had also appeared uptight, wealthy, and unwilling to wrinkle his suit. But his jacket had been on the floor ever since she yanked it off his body, there to be stepped on and kicked around. In her eagerness to explore his muscular planes, she had ripped a button right off his pressed dress shirt—and he hadn’t batted an eye.

For the first time in a long time, Skye had a man’s complete and utter attention. No distractions. No half-focus. It was very clear in the way he touched her, kissed her, bucked against her, that in that moment, she and he were the only ones in the whole world.

She shivered at the thought, at the idea of being the object of a man’s lust from top to bottom. It was a feeling she could certainly get used to.

Before she had a chance to wrap her legs around his hips, eager to rub herself against his still very present erection, Finn broke the kiss and in one swift motion flipped her around and bent her over the counter. Her hands snapped to the mirror to steady herself, eyes fluttering shut as he ran his lips along her neck, hands closing around her breasts.

“Do you know my favourite thing about fucking?” he asked huskily in her ear. As one hand slipped beneath her bra to finally pluck at her almost painfully hard nipple, the other wandered lower, two fingers testing the sensitive bundle at the crest of her sex. Skye uttered a breathy cry at the first caress, so gentle and so light—yet it sent a tremor of white-hot pleasure licking up her body. He murmured her name, as if to remind her he’d asked her a question, and her eyes shot open to see their reflections in the mirror.

It was then she noted their size difference, that he had at least a half foot on her, his solid frame making her feel petite—dainty even—in his arms. In her mind, Skye was far from dainty. Average. Toned from yoga and the gym. Attractive enough to pass as Cole’s fake girlfriend. But not petite.

Yet Finn made her feel that way: safe, but in his control, in his very capable hands.

“W-What?” she managed as he continued to massage her slick sex, occasionally slipping a finger between her folds before returning to her clit. “What’s your favourite thing?”

“Well…” He tweaked a nipple, eyes darting to hers when they widened in surprise. A twinge of pain intermingled with the steady stream of pleasure rolling out from her core—like the ocean lapping at the shore. “I suppose there are two things I enjoy more than anything else. Can’t you guess?”

“I always assumed men just like fucking,” she said, her voice catching when he rolled her nipple between his fingers, “period.”

“Uncultured men, sure.”

She watched as he removed his hand from her bra, leaving one nipple woefully unattended, while he continued to drive her closer to that precipice again below. Somehow he managed to torment her without hurting her, perhaps guessing how sensitive she’d be after that last orgasm. “There’s nothing I like more than watching a woman come undone. To experience pure bliss while I watch…”

The noise he made, the one that caught in his throat like a possessive snarl, as he grazed his teeth along her neck—it was almost her undoing. Skye trembled, fingers curling over the mirror, no longer interested in their reflections.

The light glinting off the foil square in his hand caught her interest instead, and she watched, her body sagging in the absence of his hand between her thighs, as he ripped it open—then resumed his gentle torture, rubbing and caressing and coaxing her quivering body closer to yet another climax.

“My second favourite is perhaps the less important of the two,” he murmured. Behind her, Skye felt him maneuvering himself out of his trousers, his hardness dropping against her lower back momentarily before he sheathed it in the condom. He pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Widen your stance, Miss Skye.”

A request. An order. A polite command. Whatever it was, she complied willingly, opening herself to him, and bending further over the countertop.

“You see, my second favourite thing…” His hand smoothed up her back while the other gripped her hip. “Are you ready for it?”

“Stop being an ass—”

He thrust into her, filling her slick channel, and she gasped, a sound that evolved into a moan when his hips collided with her backside. His eyes… She caught them in the mirror. Not once did they leave her face, not until she ducked her head and groaned, temporarily overwhelmed by the whole affair, her cheeks hot.

“It’s that moment,” Finn whispered, bending over her, leaving a string of kisses between her shoulder blades, up her neck, as she adjusted to him. Trailing his tongue along the shell of her ear, he chuckled. “The first time I take a woman… Watching her. The surprise. The pleasure. The excitement. There’s nothing more beautiful.”

Her only response was an incoherent jumble of words that even Skye didn’t understand. His mouth moved down from her ear, slowly working along her jaw, her cheek, until he clasped her chin and turned her head so his lips could claim hers. While thrown by the feeling of fullness, by the pleasure pulsing out from where they joined, Skye kissed him back with equal fervor. She wasn’t a passive participant in this, and she made it clear when she wrapped an arm around his neck and sucked on his tongue, catching the lingering taste of herself there and moaning.

Finn’s hand grazed her bare stomach, slowly questing upward to slip between her breasts. His palm’s slight pressure eased her upward, just enough so she felt the heat of his torso on her back, her body framed by the hard confines of his. At first she was too shy to look at herself in the mirror, but as he started to thrust into her, slowly, firmly, she found her courage.

And it truly was a sight to behold. Skye could never watch other people fuck—maybe porn, if she was in the mood—but there was something uniquely thrilling about watching herself being taken by an almost stranger. A man so stunning that she still wondered why her—why all the effort? There were plenty of women here who would have been less of a challenge.

But all her worries, her thoughts, melted away as he slid in and out of her. Never completely. They were always in contact, one way or another. Be it the caress of his lips along her ear, the thickness of his cock filling her sex, or the fiery hold of his gaze when their eyes met in the mirror; contact was essential. With one hand pressed to the mirror for support, she twined her other through his hair, reaching behind, arching herself for him, noting the groan he made when she did. While his pace quickened somewhat, it was always steady. Rhythmic and constant. Ever-present. Like the pounding of her heart. No longer racing, it seemed to beat in time with their lovemaking…

Or was it fucking?

Skye didn’t mind either term; they both suited Finn Rai. The way he pursued her, the way he pleasured her—that was fucking. The way he looked at her, kissed her, toyed with her clit—that was lovemaking. There was room for both.

“To me,” he whispered, mouth trailing along her jawline as his pace quickened, skilled fingers dragging her to the edge—and Skye was more than willing to take the plunge, “there’s nothing sexier than watching a woman enjoy herself. Nothing I like more than tasting her pleasure, watching it unfurl…”

“From women everywhere, I s-salute you,” she said, her words breathier than she would have liked. The bite had vanished. The bark too. All Skye had left was surrender—and god damn did she bask in it.

Her hand tore from his hair, which earned her a kiss from the gorgeous man behind her, and Skye braced it against the mirror as he thrust harder, faster, his fingers working her into a desperate frenzy—until the floodgates parted, until the levies broke, until the sky opened and drowned the earth. She came with a soft cry this time, eyes screwed shut as she rode out wave after wave of pleasure. Finn cursed when she clenched hard around him, and before she knew it, he was dragging her away from the granite countertop and pressing her back against the wall.

It happened so fast she almost had to pinch herself, so lost in her climax that the movements of her body felt foreign—like they weren’t hers, like she was merely watching someone else, but from their point of view.

Finn’s kiss revived her. Reality slammed back into her in time with his lips—kissing her as though he feared he might lose her. Still tingling with pleasure and heat, Skye cupped his face and kissed him back. She didn’t have to fear she’d lose him. Skye had him. And in that moment, she really didn’t want to let him go.

Finn hiked her legs up, wrapping them around his waist, then slipped himself back into her. She winced, straddling the line between pleasure and pain as he filled her. He gave her a moment, gliding his fingers over her hips and the gentle swell of her breasts.

“Are you okay?” he murmured thickly. Skye nodded. “You sure?”

“Just peachy,” she told him. “Seriously. I can take what you dish out—”

Another kiss, this time to swallow her words. Skye wrapped her arms around him, gulping down air when Finn buried his face against her neck—and finally just fucked her. There were no words. No teasing philosophies about women and their pleasure whispered against her skin. They were just a man and a woman, locked in each other’s arms, as Finn pounded into her. Searching for his own pleasure, one he had certainly earned at this point. Skye hung on for the ride, easing away from the sharpness of each thrust, steadily filled with a gentle, more subdued pleasure. She gripped his hair, tugging ever so slightly when he nipped at her shoulder.

He took her hard and fast. Roughly. Savagely. But it was still lovemaking.

At least, that was how Skye saw it. Because when he kissed her, his pace stuttering off and his face flushed, there was no mistaking what this was.

Finn came with a soft groan, their mouths barely touching, open to one another in an almost-kiss. His whole body stiffened, then slowly relaxed against her, with Skye twirling his hair around her fingers rather than pulling at it. Combing it. Scratching his scalp as he sighed contentedly, his forehead resting on her shoulder.

“That was…” He exhaled a soft chuckle, shaking his head. No words. Skye grinned, totally on the same page.

“Fucking awesome?”

“You Americans,” he muttered as he slowly eased out of her, then patiently waited for her to straighten herself out before backing away. “So brash.”

She smirked, ignoring the tremors skittering through her body, the hot and ever-present flush spreading from her cheeks to the hilt of her sex. “But honest?”

“Sometimes.” Finn appeared a little unsteady as he stumbled back and plopped down on the edge of the jacuzzi tub. “In this instance, I certainly hope so.”

While she had the sudden urge to climb onto his lap and just hug him, Skye resisted. Instead, she wobbled over to the sinks, turning her head away as he disposed of the condom, and hopped onto the cold countertop.

“I’ll let you figure that one out for yourself,” she told him, which made his eyes narrow slightly, his smile unsure.

“I can always try to prove my worth—”

She held up her hands, laughing. “No, you’ve proved your worth. I can’t go again.”

Finn’s smile brightened as he stretched his long legs out, his brown skin covered in a scant smattering of black hairs. She found the way he rolled out his ankles oddly endearing, like they were both passengers on a long-haul flight.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said.

“You should.”

They watched one another, just as before, but this time it was Finn who reached out for Skye. He did so with a casual toss of his head and a twitch of his lips, and soon enough, she left the countertop behind, colliding in a sweet kiss that, for the first time, didn’t steal her breath or her words—but a little piece of her heart.