Give Me Butterflies (Oaks Sisters #1)

Chapter 25

Millie

We may have fallen asleep last night with innocent intentions, but the pulse pounding between my legs tells me something has

shifted.

When I open my eyes, the sky outside is still shrouded in darkness. The soft fabric of Finn’s pillowcase caresses my cheek,

and his arm is slung over my hip, his body molded against my back. As he sighs in his sleep, his warm breath dances through

my hair.

I feel like a dam broke after our conversation last night. Like the pressure of my feelings for him was building and growing,

and when he finally told me he’d dropped out of the interview, the dam burst, and everything poured forward in a deluge. And

now all the thoughts and wishes I had smothered and pushed aside are threatening to drown me.

He’s not forbidden anymore, and it makes me want to push my hips back into his and see what happens.

Finally , my floozy heart cheers.

I shut my eyes as I tentatively press my hips into Finn.

His breathing stops. Every muscle in his body freezes.

“Millie?” he whispers against my ear. He lifts his arm to move it off my hip, but I wrap my hand around it before he can pull

away.

Turning onto my back, I meet his dusky eyes and sleep-rumpled hair.

Finn first thing in the morning is a delicacy I didn’t know I was missing. And I want to devour it.

He studies my face as his hand settles against my stomach. “What is it?”

The timbre of his voice is deep and rough in my ears, and his eyes are hazy with disbelief, like he can’t decide if he’s still

dreaming.

I loop my hand around his neck and drag his lips to mine. He stays perfectly still against my mouth, but I move mine anyway.

I kiss the corners, trying to tell him how greedy I am for his touch. His palm presses into my shirt like an anchor to my

core, hot and solid.

My desperation rises to the surface, but Finn still hasn’t moved to kiss me back. So I pull his bottom lip between my teeth

and run my tongue over it.

There’s a beat of shocked silence before his restraint snaps, and his lips part over mine. His hand wraps around my waist,

and my entire world narrows to that point, where his fierce grip is keeping me from floating away on an ocean of need.

He tastes and explores my mouth with his tongue while his fingertips slip under the hem of my shirt, and I whimper at the

sensation of his rough hands against my skin. My fingers surge into his hair, tugging him closer until his hardness nudges

my hip, and a satisfied moan vibrates from his mouth to mine.

Heat floods my veins, turning me into a soaked, writhing mess for him. I want Finn’s hands on me more than I want my next

almond croissant. I’d give up years of them for him to travel up my shirt and touch me.

He must be able to read my mind, because his warm hand slides up my stomach, and I focus on every millimeter he gains. He leaves a blazing trail over my skin until he stops right when his fingertips hit the underside of my breast.

“What do you want?” he whispers against my lips.

How can he expect me to speak right now? My brain is a bowl of alphabet soup, and I can’t form the letters into words.

I wrap my hand around his forearm, and the coarse hairs scratch against my palm as I slide up to his wrist. His eyes are nearly

black as I guide his hand up until his warm skin settles over mine, encompassing my breast and sending a needy ache all through

my body.

“Millie.” He sighs as his eyes fall shut. He kisses me again, drawing my tongue into his mouth and groaning as he pinches

my nipple between his fingers. They drift lazily over me, teasing and making me tremble.

“Yes. Finn.” I nearly whine as he releases my breast, before his fingers squeeze my hip. He flashes me a questioning gaze,

and I nod so quickly I might’ve pulled a muscle in my neck.

A low hum of approval leaves his throat, and his hand wanders to cover where I’m burning for him. Anticipation builds as he

slides over my underwear and down between my thighs. “You’re so wet already,” he breathes, fingers poised to destroy me at

any moment.

“Please,” I beg softly, even though I want to scream it.

He deftly pulls the fabric aside and dips one finger into my warmth. The slight pressure intensifies the fire raging inside

me, igniting everywhere I’m needy and aching.

“Oh, Millie,” he moans, pressing his lips to my neck.

Air hisses between my teeth as his fingers drift up to circle my bundle of nerves in leisurely movements, exploring and learning.

“That feels so good,” I whisper, pulling his hair until he lifts his head from my neck.

“Yeah, it does.” He circles again, and my hips twitch as his eyes lock with mine, cataloging every detail. “Tell me what else you like.”

“I like...” I lose my train of thought when he touches my clit again.

Warm breath coasts over my cheeks as he chuckles. “What do you like?”

“Slow and teasing,” I say, my voice breathy and needy. “Then harder when I get close.”

“Mmm. Perfect.” He grinds against my hip as he pushes a finger inside me. “Fuck.”

I kick the covers off and wrap my hand around his forearm, desperate for as much contact as possible. His muscles ripple and

shift as he adds another finger and plunges deeper. I can’t stop my hips from pressing up into his strength, drawing him in

closer.

“Look at you fucking my fingers. That’s it. Take what you need.”

Pleasure builds in my core at his praise and the way he watches every move I make like he doesn’t want to miss a single detail.

“I need...” I trail off, completely consumed by the riot of sensations he’s causing. It’s so hard to think when I’m burning

like this.

“Tell me,” he encourages, low and husky.

“No more teasing.” I gasp for breath.

“Alright.” He smirks like he’s savoring my torture. “But I love watching you squirm.”

His pace picks up, and he applies more pressure against my clit as he hits deep inside me with his fingers, my rapture soaring

closer and closer.

Everything is overwhelming and uncontrolled, but I focus on the feeling of Finn’s skin against mine and look into his eyes

as I crest the mountain and shatter.

I can’t breathe while the fire spreads through my whole body, and I clamp around him.

“So beautiful,” he groans as he carries me through it, and my body dissolves back into the sheets.

***

Oaks Folks

Mom: Sorry to interrupt your date last night, Millie. Hope you had a great time!

Tess: DATE? Was it with that tattooed Tinder guy you sent me a screenshot of?

Dad: When are you bringing him home to meet us?

Mom: I invited him for my birthday while I was talking to Millie.

Mom: He’s quite handsome.

Fabes: Is he the one with the tiny hands in that pizza picture you sent?

Dad: Is he the one who was sick? Did he get you sick?

Millie: I don’t know if you know this, Mom, but it IS possible to text one person individually instead of announcing everything to

the whole family.

Millie: Finn was the one who was sick, and he did not infect me, Dad.

Tess: But does he have tiny hands?

Millie: His hands are perfect.

Tess: Like, perfect size to cover just your nipple or the whole boob?

Mom: Tessa Oaks. That is inappropriate.

Millie: Tess, see above message about texting individually. And they are normal six-foot-something man hands.

Fabes: Mmm. That’s the size I like.

Dad: How do I remove myself from this text chain?

The sound of Finn’s low murmur pulls my attention from my phone. The man who had his fingers inside me this morning is acting completely casual, humming a Moana song as he drives us to work.

Luckily, I managed to sneak out of his house before the girls woke up. I rushed home and got ready, then picked him up to

drive to work together.

It all feels very... domestic. Surprisingly normal.

Maybe that’s why I ask, “Do you want to come home with me tomorrow?”

His humming pauses. “I’d love to, if you’re comfortable with it.”

The thought of Finn and the girls in Fern River makes a wide grin play over my face. They could spend time in my childhood

home, run wild on the farm, and meet my family. Play in the treehouse my dad built, meet my favorite horse, and dance through

the flowers I helped plant last spring.

I think I want that more than my brain will let me admit.

“The girls will need swimsuits and clothes you don’t mind getting dirty. And we have goats. Sometimes goats can chew on clothes

or shoelaces, you know? I’ll give my mom a few ideas of foods the girls like. I don’t want them to be hungry the whole time.

Oh, and I don’t know what the sleeping arrangements will be, but I’ll let you guys have my old room. There’s a full-size bed

in there, and we can blow up an air mattress for the girls. I’ll crash in Fable’s room.” I suck in a deep breath to calm my

rambling.

His grin is amused. Tender. “You seem nervous to bring me home.”

“I think so. Maybe.”

Finn rests his hand on my thigh, and his thumb makes a slow circle. “It’ll be perfect. I want to meet your people so they

can be my people too.”