Sol

I lean heavily against Finn as we make our way through the hotel lobby and toward the elevators. What a night. It was an awesome fight and an even better win. My man kicked some serious ass, annihilating his opponent with four seconds left in the first round! But it was the way he pulled me out of the crowd on his way back to his changing area that completely stopped my heart.

He kissed me in front of all those girls elbowing each other to touch him, in front of all those men patting his back and wishing they could be him, and in front of the cameras. I blushed, but oh yes, I totally kissed him back.

“You okay with us heading to the room?” he asks.

“I am,” I assure him, stroking his waist.

“Yeah? You look like you were having fun dancing. I almost hated pulling you away.” His gaze drags the length of my body. “Almost.”

His appraising look is one I need then. You can call me insecure, but the more I’m around professional fighters, the more I’m aware of how much like rock stars they truly are. Women, lots and lots of women, with bigger breasts, better clothes, and more grace to their movements want to have sex with Finn. His Instagram account lit up with “Marry Me Fury” requests. And as MMA becomes more popular, supermodels and celebrities are starting to date the most prominent stars.

Have I mentioned Finn is a prominent star?

I voiced my concerns to Sofia when we returned backstage. “You’re beautiful and he’s fallen head over heels for you. You have nothing to worry about,” said the woman who resembles a supermodel herself.

Sofia glides instead of walks. She fits right in with all the model types because of her beauty and grace, but it’s her endearing personality that makes her a favorite among the wives. And then there’s me, loud laugh, loud personality, and someone who bounces when she walks.

I’m not trying to put myself down. I like me. I really do. But after seeing what the other women wore and how hard Finn fought to win tonight, I wanted to be something more than his cute girlfriend. I wanted to be a woman who could rival or at least somewhat fit in with the other ladies who run in the MMA circles.

While he met with the press, Sofia and Wren hurried me back to the hotel and into one of the trendier boutiques minutes before it closed. There’s nothing to the strapless black cocktail dress I selected, but it’s lovely, and the shoes Wren picked out took it from elegant to downright alluring.

The glittery charcoal heels sparkle even in the tame lobby light. Both were way more than I could afford. But it was important for me to look good on Finn’s arm. And after seeing how tempting the other women dressed, my jeans and blouse weren’t cutting it.

I meant to put it on a credit card, but Wren beat me to it, paying cash. When I tried to protest, she shook her head. “It’s on Finn. He told me to buy you anything you wanted.”

The gesture left me speechless. Finn has paid for everything. For someone as proud as I am, it’s hard to accept. Wren wouldn’t take no for an answer and the boutique owner liked the idea of cash. She encouraged Wren when she dragged me to the fitting room to change into what has to be the most stylish dress I’ll ever own.

“Have I told you how sexy you look?” Finn mutters in my ear as we wait for the elevator.

“No,” I murmur. I smile as my arms circle his waist. He didn’t tell me, but the way his eyes flew open when he saw me return to the press conference assured me he liked my new clothes.

“Well, you do,” he says. “What I didn’t like was how those assholes were looking at you when you danced.”

I tilt my chin so I can see his face. “I didn’t notice them. I was too busy watching my hot boyfriend.”

A smirk finds its way onto his face. “Even with the bruises?”

“Yes,” I answer, even though it was hard watching him receive them.

Following a quick shower and before he met with the press, Finn changed into a dress shirt and slacks. His camp is trying to give him a more professional persona following the incident that landed him in counseling. But even without these fancier clothes, Finn is gorgeous.

His hands slip beneath my coat. “Did you have fun?”

“I did,” I admit, despite how new this lifestyle is to me.

Following dinner with his family, we attended a small after-party thrown at a club by his sponsor, Lethal Punch. Rather than cling to Finn the entire time like I wanted to, I danced with his family and his friends’ wives. MMA is a business, but also a circus in itself. It was almost midnight when his fight started, and while he won his match incredibly fast, it was almost two in the morning when we finally sat down to eat.

It’s nice being in Atlantic City with Finn and his family like this, regardless of the fast pace. Or should I say, it’s a blessing to feel normal, to have fun and pretend like my life isn’t as bad as it’s been. Yet as much as I’m enjoying our time together, I can’t help feeling guilty. For all I want to support Finn, it cost me experiencing my mother’s moment of clarity. I only pray she allows me a glimpse of it soon. I want my mother back. Is it too much to ask to see her as she once was, even for a little while?

“You okay, sunshine?” Finn asks as we step into the elevator.

I nod, trying to smile. This is his night, a moment to celebrate his victory and his hard work, not a time for me to dwell on my problems or wonder what awaits me when I return to reality. I push up on my toes and kiss his chin. “Of course. I’m here with you.”

It’s my last remark that adds to my grin, drawing Finn closer and tempting him to play. His hands trail down to my butt as the doors shut, circling and reminding me that our night is far from over.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks.

He caught enough in my expression to know my mind had wandered elsewhere. But like I mentioned, I won’t take anything away from his night. He’s earned every bit of good that’s happening, and all that’s left to come.

My fingers glide along his temple. The multiple bruises swelling his cheekbones and jaw keep my motions gentle, but the love I feel is completely there. “You weren’t supposed to let anything happen to this face,” I remind him.

“I told you I wouldn’t be able to keep that promise,” he says. “But I kept the one that mattered and won the fight.”

He did and he was incredible to watch. Each strike seemed so effortless, despite the power he packed behind every punch. That didn’t make watching any easier, but it did add to my awe of him.

“Still like the face?” he asks as my fingers linger on his skin.

“I like everything about you,” I confess, the seriousness in my tone dulling his humor. Maybe I said too much. Sometimes I think I do. It’s almost as if how I feel is more than he can take or believe he deserves. Perhaps I shouldn’t be so open. But with Finn, my emotions take on a life of their own, despite how I initially tried to keep him at arm’s length.

The floor numbers increase as the elevator shoots up. I rest my head against his chest. It sounds so cliché to say, “I’ve never felt this way before,” but I haven’t. Finn is everything to me and my only desire is to be his everything in return.

He cups my backside, pausing when he feels my bare flesh beneath the fabric of my dress. “You’re not wearing panties, are you?” he asks, his tone a low growl against my ear.

Although it’s a question, it’s like he’s pleading with me to tell him yes. “It’s a thong,” I answer quietly.

“The red one with the lace?” he asks.

I may not have bought any new clothes to wear to A.C., but I did splurge a little on lingerie. “You’ll find out soon enough,” I promise.

“Jesus,” he mumbles, gripping me tighter.

His hands travel beneath my skirt, tracing circles from my outer thighs dangerously close to the center. I inch away, my body heating.

He follows me into the corner, curling against me. “Just getting you back,” he says, his blue eyes flashing in a way that means trouble.

I laugh. Okay. Maybe I deserve that.

We haven’t had sex in three days. Three freaking days. As superstitious as it sounds, Finn’s a big believer in “not messing around before a fight.” His words. Certainly not mine.

I seriously thought he was joking or beginning to lose interest, until he brought me down to Atlantic City with him and still wouldn’t touch me!

I was kind of a brat about the whole thing, parading around our room naked every chance I had, lounging across the bed or chair in a way that had him cursing or rushing to take a cold shower.

“You haven’t been very nice to me,” he says against my mouth, thinking back to the way I’ve teased him.

“Mmm,” I agree nodding thoughtfully. “I suppose I have a lot of making up to do.”

“Damn straight,” he says. Before he can kiss me, the elevator doors ding open.

I don’t expect Finn to be romantic and he doesn’t disappoint. He tosses me over his shoulder and smacks my butt, making me laugh. That’s totally us, always playing, always laughing. Some may see it as immature, but to me it’s sweet and fun, reminding me how young we are despite the very mature problems we face.

He walks down the hall, effortlessly carrying me. “You have no class, tough guy,” I tell him, still laughing.

“True,” he admits. “But you’re going to like what I have to show you.”

Again he doesn’t disappoint. He throws the door to our room open, smacking the security lock in place half a second before he crushes me against the wall with his body. His erection punches against my belly. Our kiss is deep, raw, passionate, the exact same way I’ve wanted him to kiss me all night.

I tug off his jacket and work on the buttons of his dress shirt when his fingers slip beneath my thong and deep inside of me. The motion is so smooth and arousing, I break our kiss, craning my neck and moaning. He curses, his breath coming fast as he nibbles my throat. “You’re ready for me, aren’t you, beautiful?” he asks.

My whimpering keeps me from answering and so do the words that come next. “Do you know how bad I’ve needed to be inside you?”

He doesn’t expect me to answer, not with how fast his fingers are circling, but my gasps and my rocking pelvis are enough. He yanks off my coat just as my hands finish shoving down his pants.

I cry out in total bliss as Finn shoves aside my thong and pushes his thick erection between my legs, each press of his hips stretching me slowly until he fills me. He pauses long enough to secure my ankles behind his back and for his heated gaze to lock on mine. “Hang on,” he says, ramming his hips upward.

My nails dig into his shoulders as he withdraws slowly and thrusts hard, each fierce push increasing in speed and intensity. My back smacks against the wall, the sound adding to the moment, but nowhere as loud as my screams that beg him for more.

The force of his movements comes faster. Finn yanks the top of my dress down, his hot mouth finding my nipple and sucking hard. I clutch him against me, my hips struggling to keep up with his increasing rhythm and my body succumbing to his.

It doesn’t take me long to peak, nor does it take him long to finish―not after how long it’s been since we’ve made love. That doesn’t mean we’re done. Oh, no, there’s too much time we need to make up for.

He lowers me to the floor, allowing my breasts to slide along his chest. As he watches and finishes stripping out of his clothes, I back away, pulling off my dress, tugging down my tiny hot pink thong, and unsnapping the bra now clinging to my waist. The shoes, those I leave on.

Finn kicks away his briefs, prowling forward and hardening as he makes his way to where I wait by the bed. My nipples are so taught they sting. I can’t even think straight, reaching for him and finding his mouth, eager for his kiss and more of his touch.

I nip his chin as my hands lower to rub his length. Never have I had a lover like Finn. It’s so easy for me to desire him, to want to please him, to let him take me. It’s not a chore or something expected. It’s something I hunger for, the taste of his skin so delicious against my tongue.

I allow him to lead us, my trust something he seeks and equally turning him on.

He tugs on my bottom lip with his teeth and positions us at the edge of the bed, in front of the mirror anchored above the dresser. I almost expect him to bend me over. Instead he sits, spreading my legs open and pulling me forward so I’m hovered over his lap.

My back is against his chest, giving us a very nice view of our reflection. Without needing to ask, I lower myself down, placing my hands on my knees to keep my balance as he rubs his silky head against my folds.

My body shudders as he guides me down slowly. This position is new to me, the fit tighter. I arch my back, scrunching my face and releasing a moan as he fills me once more.

I open my eyes, releasing a shudder. The tense angle of his jaw demonstrates his need to pump into me. But he doesn’t want to hurt me. That doesn’t mean I’m not more than ready for us to begin.

My shoulders tremble as I slide against his lap, the ecstasy I feel coiling around my lower half and clenching my muscles. I withdraw slowly before pushing him back inside me, my leisurely pace causing me to feel every part of him and making me grunt.

As I make another pass, I lift my chin to look at Finn, hoping he likes what I’m doing and pleased at what I find. His expression is one of agonized bliss. “Does it feel good, baby?” he asks.

“Yes,” I bite out, my eyelids fluttering when I realize how easily this position reaches my G spot.

Finn’s fingers dig into my hips, his chin falling forward to rest on my shoulder. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he says, gasping. He lifts his head, pegging our reflections with one hell of a look. “This is how I want to watch you come.”

My body quivers from his words and my need to move faster. I glide forward and back, whimpering with each sweep of my hips.

With a sharp swear, Finn snaps his head back. My head lolls forward as that familiar ache builds with my increasing speed. It feels so good, I have trouble focusing and maintaining my pace. He clasps my hips, keeping us going. My chest heaves in and out, my body shaking as my core grips him tight.

“Touch yourself,” he tells me, his raspy tone lowering.

It’s something I’ve never felt comfortable doing before Finn. But he unleashes my feral side, the one that thrives on pleasing him. My hand slips between my legs as his arm curls around my waist. I force myself to augment our speed, clenching my teeth and trying not to full out scream as I writhe against him.

Our eyes appear closed in the mirror, but I know better. We’re both watching, we both like what we see, and we’re both losing control. Something this hot shouldn’t appear so beautiful. Yet the way Finn’s hands pass against the swells of my breasts, the curves of my body, and the way they thread through my hair, it is beautiful. He may whisper dirty words, he may groan with how good it feels, but it’s the way we come alive that proves we’re making and sharing love.

This time when I finish, I can’t keep my balance―not in these shoes and certainly not from the force of our passion. I stumble forward, every inch of me hot and electrified.

Finn hooks his arm around me, catching me and keeping us together as he guides me forward. He steadies me against the dresser, pumping fast as I grip the edge. Another orgasm builds inside me, causing me to fall limp against the slick wood as he finishes filling me.

“Fuck,” he gasps, collapsing almost on top of me. 

It’s like he can’t believe what happened or how hot it was. Not that I blame him. It’s like that with Finn. Every time is almost like our first time, the need to please each other overwhelming our senses.

I push my crazy hair out of my face, watching as he nuzzles my neck and trails sweet kisses along my heated skin.

“I love you,” I want to say. But I don’t. I don’t want him to think this feeling stems solely from the physical part of our relationship, so I promised myself I wouldn’t tell him anymore in bed. That doesn’t mean I don’t want him to say it.

If it’s how he feels.

It takes some time before either of us move, both of us struggling to keep somewhat vertical and catch our breaths. Finally, I shift my hips, resulting in both of us groaning, but smiling a little, too. There’s nothing quite like that ache that follows sex with Finn. It gives me chills, reigniting my desire and making me want to beg him for more.

His palms rest on either side of me, his shoulders rising and falling with each profound breath. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks.

“No,” I answer truthfully. But I really want to.

It’s true. Finn has completely changed me. Sex was something I used to do because I believed it was a part of a relationship. I never sought it nor enjoyed it as much as I thought I could. Something was always missing. I realize now it’s the passion I was for so long denied. That desire to feel wanted, needed, and special is everything Finn makes me feel and everything I want to give him in return.

He hugs me against him, clutching me like he’ll never let me go. My arms lower to lay over his. No . . . maybe what was missing was Finn, my perfect hero in my very imperfect world.

I give a little wiggle, drawing his attention. He raises his head, meeting my face in the mirror. “We’re not done yet, are we?” I ask, my voice so deep, it’s barely recognizable.

His eyes sizzle as his hands lift to cup my breasts. “Oh, hell no,” he says, angling his chin and kissing me fiercely.