23. Margo
TWENTY-THREE
MARGO
Of all the places I could be on Christmas Eve, curled up with Finn on his couch is exactly where I belong. The wood on the fire crackles. The glow from the Christmas tree lights bathe the room in swatches of color. Outside, it’s been snowing for the last two hours, and a winter wonderland covers the streets of Chicago.
It’s perfect.
“What’s the best Christmas gift you’ve ever received?” He lifts my hand in the air and locks our fingers together. “Besides mine.”
“Someone thinks highly of himself.”
“I’m not the one who cried.”
“Wow. Low blow there, Sweater Guy.”
“I’m kidding. I like that you’re comfortable enough around me to show emotion. It’s cute.”
“You just earned some points back.” I rest my leg over his and look up at him. “I think the pink and sparkly bike my parents surprised me with when I was seven is the best gift I’ve received. I rode that thing around our neighborhood until the wheels fell off. What about you?”
“When Jeremy was six, he painted this family portrait in art class. He spent so much time on it, and even though I had eight fingers and he had three legs, it was really special.”
“You strike me as a sentimental guy who keeps all the cards he’s been sent for the holidays. Do you still have the portrait?”
“It’s in a box in my closet. Doubt I’ll ever get rid of it.”
“You shouldn’t. It’s special.”
“It is.” Finn wraps his arms around my middle and kisses my forehead. “Are you hungry? I bought stuff for burgers.”
“Maybe we can eat later.” I pull away from him and throw a leg on either side of his hips, straddling his lap. He rests his hands on my waist and drags his thumb across my skin, under the flimsy cotton of my tank top. “I’m not hungry yet.”
“And if I am?” He sits up so he can brush his mouth against mine. He tastes like the bourbon he poured us an hour ago. “I’m fucking starving , Margo.”
We both know he’s not talking about the food. He lifts his hips, and his hard cock presses against my ass. I smile and rest my hands on his chest, rolling my hips until his grip on my sides turns rough.
I scoot down his thighs and take off my shirt. Finn blows out a breath and holds my breasts in his hands, a look of wonder stuck on his face. “Then you should eat.”
“You really are the most beautiful person in the world.” He rolls my nipples between his thumb and forefinger before giving them a pinch. It’s my turn to exhale, a shaky puff of air that turns strangled when he gently flips our positions so I’m on my back. “I could stare at you all night.”
“You can do that. If you want.”
Finn holds himself above me and kisses me. It’s passionate and slow. His tongue grazes against mine and his teeth sink into my bottom lip, an assault on my senses when he puts his hand on my stomach and traces the outline of my ribs.
“I want to do so many things with you,” he says softly, and there’s a world of possibilities behind it. “If you’d let me.”
“Like what?”
He doesn’t answer, telling me with his mouth and his hands instead of his words. He tugs on my lounge pants and pulls them down my legs until I’m naked on the couch. He kisses my neck, my chest, the spot under my left breast that’s secretly sensitive.
I sigh and relax into the cushions, a hand in his hair and the other on my stomach as he takes his time with me.
Everything we’ve done up to this point has been fast and heavy. A burning flame that turns into a wildfire. This is gentler. A spark, not a blaze, and I savor the way he pays attention to every inch of my body. I revel in the way he puts a pillow under my ass and adjusts his position so he’s between my legs.
“Margo,” he croaks. My name cracks on the second syllable, and he stares at me. “Can I have you?”
“You can always have me,” I answer, and Finn shakes his head. Moves his hands to my ass and brushes his fingers along the valley between my cheeks, and my skin prickles with excitement. “ Oh . Yes. Yeah. That’s… I’d like that.”
“You said you’ve done it before?”
“Yes.” I lick my lips and squirm. Anticipation builds low in my stomach, and I shift on the pillow. “A while ago. You won’t be able to fuck me tonight, but you could?—”
“That’s plenty. I just want all of you.”
He kisses me again and touches all over my body. The methodical way he moves is torturous, and he never lingers in one place for too long. I’m panting by the time he reaches between my legs and slowly rubs my clit.
The slick sounds of my arousal fill the quiet room when he pushes inside me and fucks me with two of his fingers, but I’m not embarrassed. I’m ecstatic. Craving more of him and already teetering on the verge of euphoria.
“You’ve done it before?” I ask, and a wave of nerves hit me as he slips another pillow under my backside.
“It’s my favorite thing.”
“Why haven’t we done it yet?”
Finn pauses. He shifts on the couch so he’s lying between my thighs, and he looks up at me. “Because I like you, and I never wanted this to be a quick fuck.”
My heart races when he wraps his free fingers around my right ankle and rests my foot on his shoulder. He does the same with my left, bending my knees, and I think I might be burning alive.
“Want to watch you while I do it,” he mumbles, and I nod, wanting to watch him too.
He sucks on his finger and dips his head. That alone is indecent enough, but then he ghosts over my back entrance and I drop my hands to the couch, holding on wherever I can grasp.
The fingers in my pussy curl, and a burst of adrenaline pounds in my blood. I groan and sink into the sensation, relaxing with every flick of his wrist.
“Ready?” he asks, and I nod.
I’m not prepared for the stretch his first knuckle brings me, and I hiss. I throw my head back and squeeze my eyes shut, doing my best to adapt to the new feeling.
“Give me a second,” I say, and he kisses the inside of my thigh. He rubs his cheek against my knee and rocks his hips into the couch.
“Baby,” he breathes out, and it’s full of lust. “I wish you could see how good we look together. I wish you could feel how tight your ass is. God . You’re going to make me come.”
“A little more. Can you give me a little more?”
“Whatever you want. You’re doing so well, Margo. Going to go to my second knuckle, okay?”
“Yes.” My throat is full of dust and my entire body tingles. When he reaches the end of his finger, the pain settles to pleasure. The uncomfortableness is natural, welcomed . “ Move , Finn.”
He pulls the finger in my ass all the way out before pushing back in at the same time he adds a third one to my pussy. I groan, impossibly wet and deliriously full.
I know it’s not going to take long for me to come. Not when he’s figuring out a rhythm, alternating between in and out and knocking my world off its axis. His breath is hot on my skin. His words are muffled against my leg, but I catch a few of them: beautiful . Perfect . I don’t deserve you .
It’s a new level of intimacy for me, and when he licks my clit, his tongue doing that circle I love, my world explodes into a million pieces.
“Shit.” A tear runs down my cheek and I gasp, trying to get my bearings but feeling like I’m on the verge of passing out. “Your fingers?—”
“Imagine what it’s going to be like when it’s my cock.” Finn keeps his finger in my ass, and I’m close to begging him to start again. To do something , because he’s everywhere , and I’m not sure I can take anymore. “Gonna fuck your cunt with that toy while cum drips out of your ass.”
Christ on a fucking cracker .
How can this be the same man who compliments me? Who looks at me with a dopey smile like I hung the moon? The juxtaposition between his bedroom side and his real-world side is making my head spin, and I don’t know which one I like best.
“Are you going to fuck me tonight?” I challenge, and he withdraws his finger, much to my dismay. He sits up and yanks off his shirt, his pants following shortly after. “That’s more like it, Mr. Mathieson.”
“You drive me out of my mind.” Finn pulls the pillow out from under me and throws it at the wall. He crawls over my body until he’s above me, and he wraps my hair around his wrist. “Suck, Margo. Get me nice and wet.”
I open my mouth, and he puts the tip of his cock on my tongue. I smile around the head and take him to the back of my throat as another tear escapes from the corner of my eye. I keep my attention on him and lick his shaft. A smile forms when he drops his head back and groans.
I put the energy from my orgasm into bringing him close to the edge. I fondle his balls, cupping them in my hand, and I’m delighted when he tugs on my hair and pulls me off of him.
“Enough.” His voice is hoarse, and he bends down to kiss me. “Keep doing that and I’ll finish in ten seconds.”
“Wouldn’t be the worst thing. We have all night,” I murmur, and his laugh is a sweet sound.
“Next round.” Finn moves back down the couch until he’s between my legs. He taps my knee, and I spread my thighs, giving him space. “Jesus, Margo. You’re my favorite person in the entire world.”
Two weeks with him, and he’s my favorite person too. I start to tell him, but the words fall apart on my tongue when he sinks into me. When his hips snap and he buries his cock inside me, a slower pace than he normally settles into.
I think he’s trying to draw it out. Trying to make it last as long as he can, because he’s gentle and sweet. Making love, not fucking, and I like this side of him. I like the considerate way he touches my cheek. How he breathes out an exhale before driving into me again. His whispered praise and the way I can see him fall apart bit by bit until he’s hanging on by a thread.
“Inside me,” I tell him in a hurried tone. “It’s the only place I ever want you to finish.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.” He touches my throat and his fingers drum against my windpipe. “I can’t hold on much longer, baby. Your cunt is too?—”
“So don’t.” I scratch my nails down his chest, and he moans. “I want to see it, Finn. I want to feel it.”
That’s all it takes.
With a final look at me, he slams home. The couch shakes and I gasp as his release spills inside me. I run my hands up his back as he calms down, and when he stills, I touch his jaw.
“ Fuck ,” he whispers. “Am I in heaven?”
“No. Still here with me.” I smile. “You okay?”
“Every time with you is the best fuck of my life.”
“I agree with that.” I push up on my elbows and tilt my head toward him. He pulls out of me with a wince, then kisses me. “You’re so damn good at this.”
“What? Sex?” He laughs and climbs off of me, collapsing on the other end of the couch and touching my calf. “I’m serious. It’s never been this good before. We work well together.”
“I guess we do. You know how you asked me about the best Christmas gift I’ve ever received?” I reach for him, and he takes my hand in his. “I think I’d like to change my answer to you. You are the best gift, Finn.”
“Come here, sweetheart,” he says, and I move to him like the tide going out to the ocean. “You are, without a doubt, the best gift I’ve ever received.”
I rest my head on his chest. His heart is racing, and the beat matches mine. I could stay like this forever. In his arms, content and happy. And when he kisses my forehead, I think he could too.