Chapter 48
JAYDEN
I can’t resist anymore.
Every flicker of confidence Finley shows drags me deeper under her spell. It’s the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen—so captivating it feels like it’s burning straight through my ribs. I don’t just want to kiss her. I want to consume her.
Finley is perfect. Beautiful. Everything I didn’t know I was looking for until right now.
“Don’t stop… please…” she whispers, voice catching when I nuzzle into the curve of her shoulder.
Her fingers tangle in my hair, nails grazing my scalp as her mouth finds mine again. Her tongue slides over my lip, slow and wet, sending a shiver straight down my spine.
“Baby,” I groan into her mouth as she shifts in my lap, grinding her heat down over my cock.
She’s warm through the thin barrier of clothes—too warm. Too much. The tease of her rolling hips has me on edge, every moan spilling from her throat sweet as sin.
I want more.
I want her voice shattered on my name. I want her hoarse and wrecked and shaking until she can’t think about anyone but me.
Me and Eli.
Because he’s still here.
He’s in Finley. Woven into her DNA, laced into the taste of her mouth, in my memory of their kiss earlier. His gravelly groans echo in my head while my tongue twists with hers, my hands gripping tighter around her back and ass.
“You’re so fucking perfect,” I mutter against her mouth, dragging my lips to her jaw. My palms smooth down her back, slow, claiming, until I’m gripping her ass. “So damn beautiful…”
“So good,” Finley whines when I lick down her neck, sucking at the soft skin until her head tips back with a gasp.
The way her hips rock has my cock throbbing, straining against my zipper. The ache pulls apart the last threads of control.
Gripping her ass tighter, I roll her onto her back along the chaise, the hem of Eli’s jersey riding high around her waist. My mouth trails down her stomach, biting, licking, covering every inch until she’s writhing beneath me.
“Oh God,” Finley moans when I mouth across the tops of her covered tits.
“That’s not my name, Lucky.” I glance up, catching her eyes while I suck lightly at her skin. “And while I fuck you, it’s my name falling off your sweet tongue. Got it?”
She nods fast, chest rising sharp under my hands as I shove the jersey higher.
The faint trace of Eli’s cologne still clings to the fabric, mixing with the salt of her sweat from the bar, and it knocks through me like a punch. Want tangled with frustration until I’m kissing lower, lower, over the soft curve of her stomach just to burn it off my tongue.
Kneeling between her thighs, I pop the button of her leather pants and rip them down, pulse hammering at the sight of her soaked white panties.
“Jayden…” she breathes, the sound soft and broken as my mouth finds the inside of her thighs, kissing the pale skin, licking the faint stretch marks like they’re scripture.
The scars make my jaw lock. Heat curls through me, dark and ugly, because I want names. Faces. Every motherfucker who hurt her, who hurt Eli. One day, they’ll regret ever drawing breath.
But tonight is for her.
“Don’t stop,” Finley pleads, inching lower on the chaise until she’s right where I want her—open, waiting.
Heat pours off her, the faint, salty tang of her arousal mixing with my breath, with the ghost of his cologne, with everything about them flooding my head until I can’t tell where one want ends and the other begins.
I drag my finger slowly along the soaked fabric, pressing just enough to make her hips jump before pulling away, kissing her stomach again just to hear the whimper that leaves her throat.
She’s gorgeous like this—half-lidded eyes, cheeks flushed, lips parted. Every sound she makes is a fucking siren’s call.
“Please, Jayden,” Finley begs when I hook my finger into the edge of her panties and stroke up through her slit, spreading her slick until she gasps. “Oh, Jes—heavens…”
“My name,” I growl, sliding my finger into her, slow and deep, to the last knuckle.
Her body bows off the chaise, head tipping back with a cry. “Jayden!”
“Say it again.” I add another finger, fucking her slow until her voice cracks on my name a second time.
“Jayden… Jayden…”
“Louder.” My thumb circles her clit, steady with the rhythm of my fingers driving into her. The wet sounds of her cunt fill the room, louder with every clench. “I said louder, Finley. Scream it.”
She does.
Her cries split the air, raw and hoarse, as I finger-fuck her faster, deeper, until her hips are jerking wild under my hands.
Spanking her thigh, I growl, “That’s more like it, Lucky.”
Another smack lands where I left marks earlier. Her legs fly wider, framing my shoulders like she knows what comes next.
“What’s my name, baby?”
“Jayden. Jayden, Jayden, Jayden!” she screams, shaking, body bowing off the chaise as she claws at the cushions.
“If you want to come, you don’t stop.”
I drag her panties aside and drop my mouth, locking my fingers with hers before hauling her down until her pussy smothers me. Every twist of her hips only grinds her harder against my tongue as I lick into her like I’ll never get enough.
“Jayden, Jayden… Jayden, I’m—” Her words splinter when I suck her clit into my mouth, biting lightly, dragging it out until she’s trembling so hard, she almost kicks free.
I don’t stop. Not until she falls apart, voice breaking, legs shaking, body clenching before collapsing back in a limp heap on the chaise.
“Fucking gorgeous,” I groan against her stomach, kissing my way up to her mouth. “You wanna know how good you taste?”
Her eyes go wide when I slide my fingers through her drenched pussy, then press them against her lips.
Finley’s tongue swirls slowly over my fingertips, sucking them clean with soft, filthy sounds that go straight to my cock. When I pull away, she follows until they pop free, smirking faintly through the wreckage of her mouth.
That bashful giggle she gives me? Might be my new favorite thing.
“Is that all you wanted? A taste?” Finley asks, breathless, tugging the jersey down as she sits up, cheeks flushed, lips kiss-bitten.
“Pull it back up.”
Her brows lift, eyes going wide. “What?”
“I like seeing your wet panties.”
“Are you serious?” she asks, half-laughing, half-shocked.
“Fuck, yeah, I am. I ate that pussy like a goddamn pro. I deserve to see the fruit of my labor.”
I push the jersey back to her waist, my gaze lingering on the marks I left over pale skin, hiding the scars like I can rewrite the past with my hands, my mouth.
One day, no one will ever touch her wrong again.
No one will hurt her. Or Eli.
But tonight? Tonight is just for us.