CHAPTER SIXTEEN - FINN
“You’re very, very bad,” I say, swatting her ass.
“Nine,” she cries out.
But I roll my eyes because that’s the third time she got the count wrong and I had to start over. So I stop. I wait.
She lifts her head, looks over her shoulder at me, and says, “What?”
“You’re faking it.”
“What?”
“You heard me. You’re faking it!”
“I didn’t even come yet, how do you—”
“I mean the spankings, Issy. You lured me into this and now you’re—”
She gets up off my knee. “Lured you? Ha! You were the one who was all excited about dressing me!”
“You pretended that you’ve never had butt sex!”
“I haven’t!” she says, putting her hands on her hips and tapping the toe of her boot on the floor.
Which I admit makes her tits bounce a little and distracts me for a moment. But I rally. “And then you’re all, Daddy-talk isn’t a thing, is it?” I use a fake girl voice for that part.
She shrugs, smiles, then shrugs again. “It’s still gross.”
Which I agree with so I got nothing for that. But I’m definitely not done. “What the fuck are you doing tonight?”
“I’m trying to have my sex fantasy, which, by the way, isn’t going very well.”
“I’m not in the game!”
“Well, you were playing along.”
“Because you were practically throwing yourself at me.”
“Oh!” she exclaims.
“And I’m a fucking guy!”
“No,” she says, crossing her arms over her breasts. “Nope. You’re not getting out of this that easy. I mean, it’s like you’re not even trying.”
“Trying what? I just wanted to fuck you!”
“And yet here we are, arguing!”
“Yeah, because you’re faking it.”
“Well, you didn’t even remember the crotchless panties!”
“What?” I’m confused, confounded and—“What crotchless panties?”—curious.
“In the bag,” she says, pointing to it. “You didn’t even see them. And I wasn’t gonna point it out because we’d finally come to some kind of game-play consensus and—”
“Issy,” I say, taking her arm and pulling her close to me. I stare into her eyes. Dead. Serious. “I’m not playing the game with you. I’m not a part of this. I’m not your fantasy guy!”
“Then how the fuck do you explain this night? Huh? There’s no way this is all just a coincidence. So I’m not falling for it.”
More toe-tapping from her.
I grab my hair and try to figure out just how I got mixed up with this girl.
I woke up this afternoon, drank a little bit—which I’m not proud of, but whatever—ended up at the diner. Declan came in, we got the call about Go F*ck Yourself, we went over there, everything seemed normal until… then Issy turned into a Tasmanian Devil, we took her back to headquarters, the terror threat came in, I was assigned to take her to the safe house…
“I think you’re playing.”
“Well, I—” I don’t know what to think. I mean, it sorta makes sense when I run it through my head like that, but this right now—her missing crotchless panties, her titless negligee, her fuck-me-hard lace-up boots, and the fact that I was spanking her with a riding crop twenty seconds ago…
That is decidedly not normal.
“I think you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right.”
I look at her. “Someone set me up.”
“Of course they did.”
“We need to talk to Jordan.”
“Yes.” She nods. “I agree. He’s target number one on the agenda tomorrow.”
Which makes me glance up at the clock over the fireplace. “You mean today.”
“Jesus, how the fuck did it get to be five AM?”
“Well, honestly, I’m surprised it’s not later. We packed a lot of shit into the last eight hours.”
Which is exactly how long I’ve known her.
And that is ridiculous.
“What time do you have to go into the office?” she asks.
“I don’t. I’m on Issy Grey bodyguard duty, remember? I’m assuming Declan will get in touch. Until then, I’m sure he assumes we’re up at the house in Silver Springs. Why?”
“Well, I have to be down in the Tech Center by noon. I’ve got the seminar, remember?”
“I thought you had those at your office?”
“No. Well, I do. But this is like… the call for students. The free seminar, right? To get them signed up. So I got that at noon.”
“Should I take you home?” I ask her.
She bites her lip, and for a second I think she’s gonna ask me to fuck her first. Which makes me roll my eyes internally and say, Jesus Christ, Finn, get a grip.
She doesn’t. Ask me to fuck her, that is. She says, “Do you think it’s safe there?”
“Well, do you really think this is a game?”
She shrugs.
“Then no, I’d have to say no. It’s not safe and you should stay here, and I’ll take the couch, and—”
“Don’t be dumb,” she says, waving a hand at me. “We’ve already had sex. And I’m not kicking you out of your own bed.”
“Do you want like… a t-shirt and shorts to wear?”
She looks down at her outfit and sighs. “Sure.” Like she’s disappointed she has to take it off. Or that this fantasy of hers is all fucked up.
“Can I ask you something?”
“I guess,” she says, propping a foot up on the coffee table so she can start unlacing the back of her boots.
I swat her hand away and take that duty on myself. You know, because I’m a gentleman and shit. “What was the fantasy? I mean, specifically?”
She smiles, then giggles, then shakes her head. “Never mind. It’s just something I saw in a movie once and it kinda made me hot, so I figured it might be nice to try it in real life. Like… expose myself in a new way. Feel something different. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a bit of a control freak.”
“Nah,” I say, laughing to myself as I concentrate on pulling the laces apart.
“For real, I am,” she says. “And sometimes it exhausts me. To, like, be in charge of everything.”
“So you wanted to be dominated?”
“No.” She laughs. “No, that wasn’t it.”
“But the boots? The crop?”
“I just wanted to lose control, not be controlled. I wanted to feel out of my element. Like… I might have a problem.”
“Nah, I think that’s normal. Everyone wants an adventure, right?” I finish unlacing the first boot and grab her foot to slide the boot off. It makes a sexy whooshing sound as her leg comes free from the latex. “And actually, this fantasy game makes a lot of sense. This Jordan guy, he takes away your control and assumes it himself. So you know it’s all planned, you feel safe, and yet it’s still enough to get your heart racing, right?”
“Yeah,” she says, as I take my attention back to the boots. I’m oddly familiar with them for only having met them a couple hours ago. “I guess so. But this is a disaster. And if you’re really not playing—”
“I’m not, I swear to God, I’m not.”
“Then that’s even worse. You probably think I’m a freak.”
“Because of these boots?” I ask. “I love these fucking boots.”
“Yeah,” she says, looking down at me from over her shoulder. “They are pretty hot. I’ve had them for years. First time I’ve put them on though.”
I finish unlacing boot number two and pull it off, then look up at her. See her. Not her tits, popping out of the lingerie. Or her pussy, which is visible, since I’m sitting down and she’s standing in front of me and I forgot her crotchless panties. But her.
“Was it everything you thought it’d be?”
She smiles, then nods her head. “Yeah. Maybe better.”
My hand finds the back of her soft upper thigh. I can’t help myself. “Why better?” I ask, caressing her leg as we stare at each other. I like her face, I realize. She’s not one of those runway-model beauties. She’s… very cute. Soft, almost round cheeks. Full lips, but small mouth. Wide eyes and perky nose.
She places her hands on my bare shoulders, kneeling on the couch, her knees sinking into the cushions on either side of mine. “Because if this is real—if it’s not a game—then I think I just found someone cool.”
I smile. I can’t help myself. “Who the fuck are you? And why would you trust me, after what I just told you?”
“You… we… people”—she finally finds the words she needs—“people do things. Sometimes they’re not proud of those things, but they refuse to be stuck on the same track, doing the same shit, repeating the same mistakes over and over and over again. So if you are telling the truth, then I get your story.”
“Why?” I ask. “Why… what… how?”
“I just do. I mean, I have a ton of other questions for you, Agent Murphy. I do. And I’ll need answers to them eventually. But right now…” She sighs deeply, looks away from me, but then her eyes dart back. “I’ve had enough. That’s why. I’ve just had enough. If it’s all just fantasy, fine. Because I kinda need one.”
“The missing spaces in your past,” I say.
She bites her lip. But unlike all the other seductive stuff she’s done tonight, I’m convinced she’s not even trying to be sexy right now. She’s just… her. Then she shrugs. “That, Agent Murphy, is a very long story. And we’re too tired to bare our souls to each other right now. But”—she leans her face into my neck, inhaling deeply, like she’s trying to capture my scent—“we can still end this properly.”
End it?
I dunno if I want to end it. But her soft breathing, her body positioned over mine—her pussy, I realize—her bare breasts right in front of me, just begging to be touched—that’s a very, very good way to keep the night alive.
My hands find her small waist, gripping it, urging her to sit down on my lap. Which she does. And then she starts moving back and forth across my cock. I’m still semi-hard from when she almost took me into her mouth, but that doesn’t last long. It only takes seconds for me to grow long and thick for her.
She bows her head, pressing her forehead into mine. I gaze up at her, my hands on her ass now. “Like you said, there’s pleasure in panic or something like that.”
Did I say that? I don’t remember and I don’t care either. I want to be inside her. Right now.
She lifts her hips up, reading my mind, and then her hand is between her legs. I look down in time to see her bring my cock out from my sweats and place it near her opening.
She flicks it back and forth, the wetness of her desire coating the tip of my head. And then she sits down, I slide inside her like we’re meant to fit together this way, and we both moan.
It’s different than the last time we fucked. Completely. It’s slow, and easy, and there’s nothing fast and hard about it at all.
Her breathing keeps pace with mine. It’s labored, and heavy, and intoxicating.
I let my fingers find her asshole, which makes her panic for a moment, but only a moment. She relaxes because I’m gentle. My probing is safe. And my intent isn’t to penetrate her, but pleasure her.
Maybe that’s what I meant. The pleasure of panic.
She’s still gripping my shoulders, but now she lets her back arch as her head falls back, her hips leaning into mine so I’m deep inside her belly. And then she begins to grind in earnest. Her eyes open. My eyes open. Meeting in the middle as she fucks me, and I finger her, and then my free hand drops to her clit and I begin to massage it. Every time she thrusts forward, I pinch it, which makes her wince, but not in pain.
The thought of spankings, and riding crops, and fuck-me boots are far behind us now. As far away as yesterday morning is.
I study her like she’s a precious piece of art. I watch her face as her expressions change. I see every emotion she’s feeling. I see lust, I see longing, I see the sensual satisfaction I’m bestowing on her.
She takes it. All of it, and all of me, and then I’ve got my arms wrapped around her back, and she’s got her arms wrapped around my neck. And our thrusting—our fucking—becomes stillness. The moment freezes, my cock buried so deep inside her, I feel nothing but her wet pussy gripping me. Welcoming me. Begging me to—
It’s one of those silent orgasms. There’s no yelling, there’s no grunting, there’s no sweat. It’s just stillness until I explode, and she explodes, and we mix together, creating something new. Something perfect.
Breathing hard, she sinks into my chest. I hug her so tight, I start to worry about cutting off her breathing. But when I loosen my grip, she says, “No.”
And I obey her command. Because it’s the right thing to do .
We stay like that for several minutes. Silent. I feel my cock relax and then slip out of her. My come spills out with it, coating my legs, which makes her sigh.
Her mind must be in the same place as mine, because she whispers, “I’m on the pill,”
Which is great, because I lost all fucking control and didn’t even think about it.
Then she says, “This was way better.”
And even though she doesn’t explain, I know. I get it. I understand her.
“So much better, “ I say. And then I stand up, bringing her with me. She wraps her legs around my waist as I carry her to the bathroom and set her down on the counter. Which makes her gasp, because it’s granite and cold.
I find that adorable, so I smile the whole time I’m turning on the shower and slipping my sweats down my legs. And then I lift the negligee over her head, throw it into the corner of the bathroom, lift her up, and carry her into the shower, pressing her back up against the tile wall.
We say nothing as we fuck again. This time I pin her in place the way she captured me out there on the couch. She goes limp as I fuck her hard, one hand under each of her knees, holding her up. Her arms are wrapped tightly around my neck like she’ll never let go as she grinds her clit against the top of my shaft until she can’t take it anymore.
She bites my shoulder as she comes.
And this time, I don’t come inside her pussy.
I drop her legs. She plants her feet on the floor and descends to her knees without even being told. She looks at me as I come inside her mouth, taking me deep, but not all the way into her throat. My fat cock fills her up, her lips wrapped tightly around it, with water running down her face. Her cheeks pink from the steam and the sex.
After, I wash her hair as she washes mine. It’s weird. She’s a stranger, yet she feels like she’s always been in my life. Like this is just what we do. We fuck on the couch, then we fuck in the shower, and then we wash each other’s hair. Like this is how it’s always been and always will be.
When we’re done, I dry her off, she dries me off, and we say… nothing.
I lead her into my bedroom, hand her a t-shirt and a pair of boxers. She puts them on, like she’s done this a million times before.
I put on a new pair of cut-off sweats and pull the covers aside, watching her ass wiggle inside my boxers as she crawls over to the other side.
Her side.
Then I flick off the lights and join her.
My arm stretches out and she automatically makes my shoulder her pillow as I wrap her up against me.
It’s insane.
Fucking insane.
Because even though we just met ten hours ago, she has always been here. That side of the bed, which has been empty since I moved into this apartment, has always belonged to her.
“Tomorrow,” she says, the word thick with sleep. “You’ll still be here, right?”
I can’t stop the smile. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to. “I’m not going anywhere, babe. At least not without you.”
I don’t see it, but I feel it. Her lips curving upward against my chest.
She falls asleep immediately but I… I’m afraid to fall asleep. I’m afraid this is just a game. She’s just a dream and if I close my eyes she’s gonna disappear.
But I lose that battle.
Slowly. Surely. It finds me. It controls me. It reminds me why I’m here, what I’m doing, and that Issy Grey has nothing to do with any of it.
And then I fade into the darkness that I’ve been accustomed to.