CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE - FINN
Even though this started out with me on my knees, worshiping her pussy with my tongue, I have an overwhelming urge to ravish her.
“I want to flip you over,” I say.
“Do it,” she says.
“I want to grab a fistful of your hair and pull your head back so far you have to look me in the eye when I slip my cock between your ass cheeks and fill your pussy.”
“Do it,” she says. Our heads touching. Our eyes meeting. Our souls connected.
I shake my head. I want to be gentle with her. I want to make her feel special. Cherished. Loved…?
How could that word even come up? Even as a passing thought in my head?
I haven’t even known her a day.
And it feels like a lifetime…
But I have no idea who she really is, what kind of trouble she’s been in, or where she plans on being tomorrow.
With me. She’s going to be with me tomorrow.
She grinds her hips down, forcing my cock even deeper inside her.
“Yes,” she moans. “Yes.”
Her nails are digging into my shoulders, pinpricks of pain that mingle with the pleasure. She notices something—an expression on my face, or the growl that comes from my mouth—and takes these things as some kind of signal to do it again.
Which she does. Only this time her nails drag down the curve of my shoulder. When I look down, there’s a bright red welt rising up off my skin.
“You want it rough?” I say, grabbing her hair and pulling until her head jerks.
“I love it rough. I love it. Give it to me rough, Finn. Make me remember this night forever.”
But I only hear the begging. Not the warning of what’s coming tomorrow. Tomorrow is far away. Hours upon hours away. And hours to Issy and I are like years to other people. I have years to think about that last sentence.
I hug her tightly. Her legs grip my thighs like she knows what’s coming and she’ll do anything to keep my cock from slipping out of her pussy.
But it can’t be helped.
I rock forward, get my knees underneath me, then bounce her back onto the mattress.
She laughs like a girl. Like a woman who is about to get the fuck of her life. Her legs wrap around my middle, scissoring me in her grip, like she’s gonna use some secret jujitsu sex position on me.
God, I hope she does that.
“You like it this way?”
She nods, still laughing. “More,” she says, teasing me. “More.”
I reach behind my back, grab her ankles, and slowly push her legs open. She bites her lip, chews on it for a second, then closes her eyes and sucks in a breath of air when she’s spreadeagle, my hands pushing her knees into the mattress. I lean forward and kiss her belly.
She writhes, bucking and squirming, pressing her breasts up towards my face until her nipples seem to be begging for my lips.
I can’t deny them. Even if I wanted to, it’s beyond my control. My tongue flicks against her peaked nipple, making her moan, and then I nip it with my teeth. Not too hard, but hard enough to make her squeal, “More, more!” again.
“I’ve got more for you, don’t worry,” I say, backing away. Giving myself enough space so I can flip her over on her stomach. Her knees bend, feet swinging up until they hit my chest. I grab them both, bring them to my mouth, and kiss her toes.
This… I have to stop and laugh. Because this undoes her. She screams, “No! Oh, my God! No, no, no!”
But I just say, “Be still.”
“I’m ticklish! I told you that!” She laughs.
“I’m not gonna tickle you, Issy. Be still.”
“Just your touch—”
But she stops. Because I’m kissing the sole of her left foot, my lips barely brushing against her tickle spot.
She holds her breath. I know this, because I’m watching her. I count to ten, then fifteen, still kissing the soft pad of her foot. And then at twenty, it comes out in a rush.
And I say, “See?”
And she sees. She goes still. Her whole body stops fighting. Her mind relaxes as I hold her foot up to my lips.
I reach down and place my other hand flat on her back, right between her shoulder blades, pressing the breath out of her again. Pushing her down, stealing her air and making her exhale.
And when her chest is empty of every molecule of oxygen, I grab her hair, right up next to the scalp, and I pull her head back. Slowly. So slowly. And let her breathe in. I let her take what I’m offering, forcing her head and back to arch as I knee her legs open and position my cock right between her ass cheeks, just the way I imagined it. And when we’re eye to eye… soul to soul… only then do I lunge my cock deep into her pussy.
She’s propping her upper body up with her hands flat on the mattress. And I’m riding her ass. My groin pounding her, my balls slapping against her skin.
She repositions her knees, so she’s up off the bed a little, giving me more room to fuck her. And just as she starts begging, “More. Harder. Harder still!” I slow.
I still.
This time her begging cuts off. Because she only feels what I want her to feel and I want her to feel me. I’m not just a man behind her. I’m not just another guy trying to make her fantasy come true.
I’m Finn Murphy and I want her to know… this is what I can give her. Me and only me.
“Open your eyes,” I growl. Her pussy feels so tight. So wet. So perfect I want to come right now. But I don’t. Because I’m not done with her yet. She tries to obey my request, but can’t quite do it. I’m easing in and out of her so slowly now, she’s whimpering. “Open. Your. Eyes.” I say it again.
This time she does it. And in the same moment, I release her hair and wrap my hand around the front of her throat. Not choking her. Not even squeezing. Just holding her in position.
But it’s enough.
She whispers, “Please.”
And that’s as far as she gets, because just as her request escapes her lips, I thrust forward so hard, she exhales again.
Empties herself for me so I can fill her up.
“Come inside me,” she says.
I thought she’d never ask.
I lean down so my chest is pressing right up against her back, reach underneath her belly so my fingers can find her clit, and strum her. Back and forth so fast, she begins to wail. Begins to beg. Begins to yell, “Yes! Oh, God, yes!”
She clamps down on my cock, gushing on my dick and coating it with her sweet release. Her whole body goes rigid as she gasps, sucking in air like she’s desperate for it, her throat constricting underneath the grip of my hand.
And when she empties herself of breath this one… last… time…
I spill into her.
My mouth is on her ear, kissing it before I lose control and drop my lips to the fleshy part of her shoulder so I can nip her skin and make her whimper.
Sweat breaks out on my stomach, making our bodies slick from the sex. I grab her tight around the waist and roll over, taking her with me.
We suck all the breaths now. Greedily. No longer cherishing the deprivation of life-giving air. Her chest rises with mine as I hug her close and hook my leg around hers, caging her in so she can’t even think about that escape plan she’s been cooking up all day.
“You’re not going anywhere,” I growl into her ear.
She smiles. I can’t see her smile, but I know she smiles. She wants me to keep her prisoner here with me forever. I know it.
“Because you’re my bodyguard.”
“Yeah.” I laugh. But then I shake my head. “No. Because hours to us are like years for others. And we’ve spent a lifetime together since we met last night.”
She exhales again. “Finn,” she whispers.
“No,” I say. “No. I’m not gonna let you run. I’m not gonna let you. People love you, Issy. You know things and you share those things with them. Those women need you and an online course is a good start for a lot of them, but they need more than that. They need to see you. Feel you. Hear you. Know you. And I need all that too.”
She squirms in my strong embrace. I don’t want to give in and let her go. Not even to just change position. But I do. Because she’s asking, and right now I want to give her everything she asks for.
When she’s done squirming we’re face to face, her eyes on me, my eyes on her, mirrored smiles in the fading, hazy light of sunset filtering in through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
“You don’t know me,” she says.
“Wrong,” I say. “I know you.”
She shakes her head. “No. I think if you really knew me, you’d… you’d be ashamed of me.”
“Issy—”
“Finn,” she says, placing her fingertips on my lips. “Just listen. I have a story to tell you. One that starts and ends just like the one I told on stage today. But it’s all the parts in the middle that I left out that matter.”
“So tell me,” I say. “Tell me everything so I know what I’m up against.”
“Up against?” she asks.
“Yeah. Tell me who I gotta kill to make it right.” I regret that immediately. Because she knows now. She knows a little bit about what I’m capable of. And I don’t want to scare her.
She huffs out a breath. “I wish it were that simple.”
It is that simple. But I have enough sense to keep it to myself this time.
Because Issy has no idea who I really am either. It’s me who carries the shame and guilt in this room, not her. There’s no way she can be as dirty as I am.
She is pure in my eyes. Pure and innocent. Sweet and strong. Perfect.
No. It’s me who has the shameful story to tell. And if she thinks that what I told her last night is all there is… well, I’m gonna disappoint her.
But not yet. There’s time for that later. Now, I just want to know her. “Tell me,” I say. “I’ll make it all go away. And if you still want to leave this life behind when that’s all done, we’ll leave together.”
She stares at me. We are eye to eye. Soul to soul. Her forehead is sweaty from the sex and her hair is damp. I brush a piece off her cheek so I can see her unspoiled.
“It all started when I was eleven and he was twenty-eight.”
I have to repeat those words in my head several times to make sense of them. To force myself to accept what is surely coming next.
Death.
Because I’m going to kill that motherfucker and I’m going to make it hurt.