38. Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Alow band of unease sat across Finn’s chest the entire time he was away from her. It wasn’t the reason he decided he wanted to learn how to cook, but it prompted the thought as he waited for the cafe to brew the coffee and hand over the pastries he’d ordered.
Finn realized he’d never wanted to do something just for his own interest, of his own choice before. Just because he could. Maybe he’d be terrible at cooking, maybe he wouldn’t. He was looking forward to learning.
Not quite as much as he was looking forward to being back with Kathleen.
His lean toward overprotective wasn’t without reason. Command would never have allowed such contemplation of a future, let alone the reality of it. Every time he had the thought it would be taken from him, he reminded himself the Handler was dead. No one would ever find his body.
Finn was aware of other things, too. He checked exits and scanned for threats, but there were increasing moments where he didn’t. He wondered how much of the edge he always felt, the heightened sense of paranoia and awareness, had to do with the Handler’s voice always being in his thoughts.
Now? Now he knew the Handler would never be in his thoughts again, and it was freeing.
And a little terrifying.
But he knew fear better than anyone.
Finn left a generous tip in thanks as the server handed over the food and coffee. On his way back to Kathleen's building, he noticed the white cat strolling towards him with its tail held high.
“Hi, cat,” he said. “Are you coming in for breakfast?”
The cat trilled, winding through his feet, trying to murder him in a purely affectionate way.
He wondered if someone could have a soulmate that was also a cat.
Cat gave him an unreadable look, leaping onto the fence, casually strolling past the iron spikes like they were barely impediments. From there, the animal leaped elegantly onto a ledge of the first floor of the complex. The cat meowed at him from above.
“I guess I’ll see you up there,” Finn said as the animal disappeared around the side of the building.
For perhaps the first time, he elected to walk in through the front door of the building. The doorman was startled by his presence but didn’t question him—instead, the man coughed, covering his mouth and ducking away. Finn sensed fear in the rapid beating of his heart, but that wasn’t particularly unusual. He was used to having that effect on people.
“Sorry,” the doorman mumbled, turning away. “Bit of a cold. Apologies.”
For a second, Finn was certain his voice was familiar. He knew there were gaps in his memory, things he would never remember. He might have met the man a hundred times before. He had almost certainly scoped him when he was surveilling Kathleen initially.
These were the questions without answers he would need to learn to live with.
The condo was quiet when Finn entered. Kathleen had fallen asleep again. It felt like a gift to see her asleep, to see her relaxed, to see her safe. He stood there for too long, watching her. His eyes fell to her throat, and the dark bruising brought with it a wash of nausea and tightness in his gut. He was squeezing the bag of pastries too tightly, their sudden smell jolting him from the moment.
He had done that to her. He had hurt her. And he could do it again.
Even with the Handler gone, Command had hooks in him that could bring back the Hound. Yet the thought of leaving Kathleen for her own safety came and went, dismissed out of hand. He had promised her, and more than that, he wasn’t capable of leaving her. Without her, he couldn’t breathe.
Kathleen stirred without opening her eyes, stretching beneath the sheets. “I smell coffee,” she mumbled as she gestured with her hand.
Finn settled on the side of the bed, facing her, and placed the takeout cup in her hand, curious what she planned to do.
Kathleen tilted her head just enough to bring the edge to her lips, all without opening her eyes. She made a humming sound, and then, finally, her green eyes opened.
“The offering is acceptable,” she concluded, her voice warming in response.
“I have something else for you,” he said.
Kathleen made a sound of vague interest, but she was distracted by the coffee.
Words had always been hard for him. Maybe it wasn’t like this before Finn joined Command, but the training made it such that it was safer never to speak, and when he did speak, he didn’t always have the awareness to express himself.
Finn knew this was the opposite with Kathleen. She had always encouraged him to express himself, to tell her when he didn’t want to do something or to make a choice. It was something he was still learning how to do.
“I want to kiss you,” he said. She smiled, but he pressed on, “I want to kiss you everywhere. Every part of your skin, I want to taste. I want to map your body with my lips and my tongue until I can close my eyes and still see you entirely in my head. I want to make you come so hard and so much that you beg me for a break. I want to know what it feels like to be inside of you in every conceivable position. I want to make you come over and over on my cock, and I want you to do it screaming my name.”
It was, maybe, the longest thing Finn had ever said to her.
Kathleen stared at him, her mouth slightly ajar, her eyes unfocused. He knew—had learned to recognize—this emotion almost as well as fear. The way her pupils dilated, the way her pulse jumped. The slight rise in her body temperature and the scent of her arousal.
Yet she was utterly still, and his heart seized.
It wasn’t until she lunged forward, grabbing at his shirt to pull him toward her, that he was sure he had said it right. The pastries, squished by him earlier, were discarded on the bed. Her coffee began to fall, and she laughed, her breath quick and warm on his lips as he snatched it up before it spilled.
Finn set the cup safely down on the bedside table.
Kathleen pushed him away, which was confusing, especially since she followed it up with, “Chase me,” as she tumbled out of the bed.
She paused in the doorway, looking at him as he stayed frozen. She smiled at him, full of warmth and encouragement. Her eyes held his as her hands lowered to the edge of the sweatshirt he had thrown over her last night after he carried her to bed. It hung to her thighs, and her fingers drew the material upward with aching slowness.
Finn’s throat felt parched all of a sudden, and he swallowed heavily, his cock twitching in response. When she let the material of the sweatshirt drop back into place, he thought he may have actually groaned aloud.
To Kathleen, he must have been an open book because as his eyes flickered from her bare thighs back up to her face, her smile deepened. “Chase me,” she repeated, turning and running.
This time, his feet hit the floor before she was two steps out of the bedroom. She was only halfway across the lounge by the time he wrapped an arm around her waist, and she squealed in surprise. He pulled her backward against him, his mouth landing on her bare shoulder, tracing a path toward her neck.
The noise she made changed to a hum, a breathy sigh escaping her as her head rolled to one side to allow him better access to her neck.
For a second, the bruises there—the ones the Hound, he had put there—gave him pause. Like she sensed his momentary hesitation, Kathleen reached a hand around the back of his neck and pressed encouragingly. His lips met her skin, and he breathed deeply. The scent of her enveloped him, and he groaned in pure delight as she pressed herself against him. His hand slid downward to echo the gesture she had made, riding the material up her naked thighs. He kept going, though, his rough fingers curving over her stomach and cupping one of her full breasts. His thumb glided over her hardening nipple as she let out a breathy sigh.
Finn continued to kiss up the side of her neck, pausing for a moment to suck at the skin there. He knew it would leave a mark, one that would be visible to anyone who saw her. That was the sort of mark he wanted to leave on her—one that she welcomed, he knew—by the rapid uptick of her heartbeat.
“Finn,” she said breathlessly.
“Not loud enough,” he countered, moving his hand downward between her legs.
She sucked in a breath, letting out a gasp as his fingers slid between the folds of her pussy. He could feel the wetness there already as she shivered in response.
Instead of diving deeper, Finn brought his fingers up to his mouth and tasted them—tasted her.
“Finn,” Kathleen said again, her pupils dilated as she turned to watch.
“You taste amazing,” he said. “I need more.” Finn bent, sweeping her legs out from under her and lowering her to the ground as she threw her arms around him.
“Bed?” she asked.
“Too far,” he countered as he pushed up her sweatshirt to bare her to his eyes.
Her hair was dark and neat, and he pushed her thighs apart. Just the scent of her, the glistening, created an uncomfortable pressure in his pants. He needed to taste her first, though.
Finn wrapped his hands around her thighs to hold her steady as he bent his head between her legs. The sweet taste of her tingled over his tongue as he explored her. He could feel her shuddering as her hand coiled into his hair, tightening. It didn’t stop him from exploring—it was another data point as his mouth closed over her clit and began sucking—the tighter she wound her fingers in his hair, the closer she got.
“Finn!” she gasped.
He stopped, lifting his head to look at her. “What?”
He knew exactly what she meant. He could read her body now and the punch-drunk pleasure in her eyes as she glared at him. But he wanted to hear her say it.
“Don’t stop! I’m so close, I’m going to—oh!” she gasped as his mouth closed over her clit again, throwing her head back. Her breath came in sharp hitches, turning higher-pitched as she gasped. “Finn! I’m going to—”
Finn felt her tensing, and he kept the pressure on her thighs to hold her down as he sucked. The wordless cry he won from her was only slightly more satisfying than the shuddering aftershocks that ran through her as she orgasmed, all the breath going out of her lungs.
There were splashes of red in her cheeks, her eyes unfocused but open, her lips parted. Her bottom lip was a little swollen where she’d tried to bite it to contain herself. When her eyes managed to focus on him, it was like pure electricity through his veins.
He wanted her.
“Kitten,” Finn growled.
“I need you inside me,” she demanded, her voice rough.
He needed no more instruction than that. He lifted her, this time carrying her to the kitchen counter. She let out a gasp as her bare thighs landed against the counter.
“Hurry,” she bid him, reaching to pull the sweatshirt over her head, tossing it behind her.
He shoved his pants down, taking his already hard cock into his hand. The tip already glistened with pre-cum as he stepped between her thighs. He rolled his hips forward, coating his cock in the wetness of her arousal, teasing the tip against her pussy.
“Please,” she began, but he swallowed the rest of her plea with his lips.
His tongue was in her mouth, an intentional distraction as he shoved his hips forward, burying his cock inside of her all the way to the hilt in one smooth motion. Her gasp was muffled against his lips, but the way her fingers dug into his shoulders and how her legs wrapped around him said all that needed to be said.
Finn thrust deeply into her, and she braced her hands on the counter to stop herself from sliding back. In his explorations during their first night together, he had learned precisely where her G-spot was. It took a specific angle to glide over it on every thrust, but he knew the moment he hit it.
Kathleen’s high-pitched breaths swiftly became long moans and then sharp cries as her fingernails bit into the skin of his back. “Finn! Yes, there! Harder!”
Her pleas were music to his ears, and he obeyed her—by choice. His cock slammed into her over and over, and he felt the moment she came again: a hot flush over her skin, a gasping, breathless cry of his name, and then her inner walls shuddered around him.
He intended to continue, but the sensation of her coming was too much. Finn’s control was undone completely by feeling his woman fall apart around his cock, and he soon came deep inside of her, groaning with pleasure as he gathered her in his arms.
They stayed there, with him buried inside of her, as they caught their breaths.
This moment was perfect. She was perfect.
“We fit together,” he murmured.
Her smile was beautiful. “Yes, we do.”
It was with a mix of regret and anticipation that Finn finally pulled out of her. She eased off the bench, but he bent to carry her again—this time toward the bed.
“No,” he said. “No walking yet. I have plenty more of you left to explore and several more orgasms owed you.”
Kathleen laughed, pressing her mouth against his shoulder. “Maybe by the time you’re done, I’ll forgive you.”
“Then I’d best get started.”
Later, much later, they lay with limbs tangled together on the bed, replete and exhausted. Finn was playing with her hair while she hummed.
“I figured out how you can make it up to me for leaving me,” she said.
Finn’s muscles tensed, but Kathleen must have felt it because she turned her head.
The teasing smile that curved her lips said it all. “You have to get dressed and go get food for us.”
He groaned, only some of it feigned. He wasn’t that hungry, and the idea of leaving the bed, leaving the warm naked body of the woman he loved, was, indeed, a punishment. He really should learn how to cook.
“Anything but that,” he said.
“My stomach’s growling,” Kathleen pouted.
Finn tilted his head, listening. She was right. The rumbling of it made him smile as he leaned to kiss her bare stomach. “All right, but in return, you have to promise me one thing.”
“What?”
“Don’t you dare put even a stitch of clothing on while I’m gone.”
Her smile was all the promise he needed.