7. Chapter 7 Cara
Chapter 7: Cara
H oly fuck.
I collapsed against my bedroom door, my panties absolutely drenched. I couldn't believe what I'd just seen, what I'd just done.
Finn Gallagher, naked and dripping wet, his hand wrapped around the thickest, hardest cock I'd ever seen in my admittedly limited experience. And the way he'd looked at me as he'd stroked himself, his eyes dark and hungry, like he wanted to devour me whole.
Jesus. I shivered, my nipples pebbling against the thin fabric of my dress. I was so turned on I could barely think straight, my clit throbbing in time with my frantic heartbeat.
I wanted him. Wanted him with a desperation that bordered on madness, a bone-deep ache that only his touch could soothe. I wanted his hands on me, his mouth, his cock splitting me open and claiming me as his own.
He'd let me watch him come, let me taste his cum off his fingers like the filthiest communion, but he wouldn't actually fuck me.
Not yet, anyway.
I bit my lip, my mind racing as I pushed off the door and stumbled towards my bed. I needed to up my game, to find a way to break through his control and make him mine. I wasn't above playing dirty, not when the prize was Finn Gallagher's cock buried deep in me. But short of ambushing him naked in his bed, I was running out of ideas.
I flopped onto my back with a frustrated huff, staring up at the gauzy canopy above me. I supposed I could always just corner him and shove my hand down his pants. But knowing Finn, he'd probably just grit his teeth and gently remove my fingers, all while lecturing me on the importance of taking things slow.
Ugh. Men.
I was just about to give up and take matters into my own hands (literally—my pussy was still throbbing insistently, begging for attention) when a sharp knock sounded at my door. I jolted upright, my heart leaping into my throat. There was only one person it could be at this time of night, and the thought of facing him so soon after our little shower interlude made my palms sweat and my mouth go dry.
But I wasn't a coward. And I sure as fuck wasn't going to hide from Finn like some blushing virgin. I mean, I was a virgin, technically. But the blushing ship had sailed a long time ago.
"Come in," I called out.
The door swung open and Finn stepped inside, looking good enough to eat in a pair of gray sweatpants and a tight black t-shirt that clung to his muscles like a second skin. His hair was still damp from the shower, curling slightly at the edges, and I had the sudden, wild urge to run my fingers through it.
"Cara," he said, his voice low and rough. He dragged a chair from my desk over to the foot of the bed, turning it around and straddling it backwards. The position made his sweatpants pull tight across his crotch, outlining the thick ridge of his cock, and I felt my mouth water.
Down, girl. Focus.
"You just don’t walk out on me like that little girl. You’ve tasted me, and now it’s my turn.”
Holy fuck.
“I want to see you," he said, his eyes hot and intent on my face. "All of you. Spread out on that bed like a fucking feast, your pussy bare and wet and ready for me."
Holy shit. I gaped at him, my brain short-circuiting at his blunt words. "I—what?"
"You heard me." He leaned forward, his forearms resting on the back of the chair. "I want to watch you touch yourself, Cara. Want to see you make yourself come, knowing I'm right here, getting off on every second of it."
Fuck. I clenched my thighs together, feeling a fresh gush of wetness soak my already-ruined panties. "Finn, I don't—"
"Yes." The word was low and raw, almost desperate. "I need it. Need to see you, taste you, even if I can't actually fuck you yet. Just let me watch."
Yet. The promise in that single word made me dizzy, my skin flushing hot and tight all over. He wanted me, wanted to claim me, even if he was still holding himself back.
And if watching me finger myself was the price of admission, well... call me a fucking ticket-taker.
"Okay," I breathed, my hands already going to the hem of my sleep shirt. "Okay, yes. I'll do it."
His eyes flared, his nostrils flaring as he watched me tug the flimsy fabric up my thighs. I could feel the heat of his gaze, branding me, possessing me, even as I bared myself to him inch by agonizing inch.
When I finally got the top off, leaving me in nothing but a scrap of pink lace that barely qualified as underwear, Finn made a sound like he'd been punched in the gut. His hands flexed on the back of the chair, his knuckles white with strain, and I knew it was taking every ounce of his self-control not to lunge forward and touch.
Good. I wanted him ready to snap. Slowly, teasingly, I trailed my fingers down my stomach, watching his eyes track the movement. I paused at the edge of my panties, toying with the lacy hem, before finally slipping my hand beneath and cupping myself boldly.
"Fuck." Finn's voice was a low, harsh rasp, his eyes riveted to the juncture of my thighs. "You're already wet, aren't you? Soaked through, just from showing yourself to me."
"No," I breathed, rubbing my clit in slow, tortuous circles. "I'm wet from watching you, Finn. Tasting you. That was so hot what we just did."
He groaned, low and long, his hips shifting restlessly against the chair. I could see the thick outline of his erection straining against his sweatpants, and all I had was an urge to taste him again.
"I need to see," he growled. “Take them off, Cara. Let me see that pretty pussy, let me watch you fuck it with your fingers."
Shit. I shuddered all over, my clit pulsing hard against my fingertips. I wanted to tease him more, to make him work for it, but I was too far gone. With shaking hands, I hooked my thumbs into my panties and shimmied them down my legs. The cool air kissed my overheated flesh and I gasped, my hips arching up instinctively.
Finn's response was instantaneous and explosive. He surged to his feet with a noise like a wounded animal, his hands slamming down on the footboard hard enough to make the bed frame rattle. For a second I thought he was going to leap on me, to cover me with his body and take what I was blatantly offering.
But he only stood there, chest heaving, eyes wild and riveted on my dripping, naked sex. I'd never felt so exposed, but instead of scaring me, it only turned me on more.
“Has any man seen you like this?”
I shook my head.
A deep growl came from him. “Good.”
"Touch yourself," he commanded. "Fuck that sweet cunt, let me see you get it all shiny and messy just for me."
"Finn." It came out as a moan as I obeyed mindlessly, my fingers already sliding through the slick folds to rub tight, teasing circles around my swollen clit. "Oh god, that feels..."
"Good?" He bit out the word, his throat working as he swallowed hard. "Fuck sweetheart. I need to eat that pussy 'til you scream, to slide my fingers up in you so deep you'll feel me in your fucking throat."
I keened, my hips bucking into my hand. The dirty words pouring out of him were almost as good as a touch, every filthy promise edging me on.
"Please," I panted, my fingers moving faster now. "Please, I need... I want..."
"I know what you need." His voice was a dark rumble, shot through with hunger. "But I need to hear you say it, sweet girl. Tell me all the dirty things you want me to do to this virgin cunt."
"Fuck!" I cried out, my head thrashing on the pillow as I shoved two fingers up inside myself. "Want your mouth, Finn. Want to ride your face, want you to fuck me with your tongue until I come all over you. Want your fingers in me, stretching me, getting me ready for you."
He swore viciously, his hands white-knuckled on the foot board. "Keep going," he demanded hoarsely. "Don't you dare fucking stop now."
I didn't. Couldn't. I was too far gone, my body winding tighter with every second, every vulgar plea that spilled from my lips. I pumped my fingers harder, grinding the heel of my palm against my throbbing clit as I chased the release that hovered just out of reach.
"Almost," I whimpered, feeling the telltale flutter deep in my core. "Oh fuck, Finn, I'm gonna... gonna..."
"Do it." It was a command, a growl. "Come on your fingers, Cara. Let me see this pussy clench, let me see you fucking soak your hand. Come for me, now."
My orgasm hit me, whiting out my vision and stealing my breath. I thrashed on the bed, my fingers trapped between my spasming thighs as I rode out the pleasure, dimly aware of Finn's broken groan mingling with my cries.
When it was over, when I finally collapsed back onto the mattress, I could barely muster the energy to turn my head and look at him. He was still standing, still gripping the foot board like it was the only thing holding him up, his expression carved in lines of desperate hunger.
"Holy shit," I croaked, my throat raw from screaming. "That was..."
"The hottest fucking thing I've ever seen," he finished, his eyes glued to my core. "Christ, Cara, the way you fucking moved, the sounds you made... I'm harder than I've ever been in my goddamn life."
I smiled, slow and wicked. "Then why don't you come over here and put that hard cock to good use?"
He shook his head, even as his hands twitched at his sides, aching to touch. "You're killing me, you know that? My balls are so blue they're about to fall off and crawl away."
"Good," I said petulantly. "Serves you right for getting me all worked up and leaving me hanging."
"Oh, I'm not leaving you hanging, sweetheart." He leaned forward, bracing his hands on the bed as he crawled towards me with predatory intent. "I believe I made you a promise about this pussy. And I always keep my promises."
My breath hitched, my oversensitized clit throbbing in anticipation. "What are you...?"
"I'm going to eat you." It was a vow, a threat. "Going to lick this pretty cunt until you can't take anymore, until you're shaking and sobbing and dry as a fucking bone. And then I'm going to keep going, because I fucking can, because you're mine and I'm going to ruin you for anyone else."
My eyes rolled back in my head, a broken moan escaping my slack mouth. "Finn, fuck..."
"That's the plan, sweet girl." He grinned at me, sharp and feral. "Just as soon as you beg me for it."
Then he buried his face between my thighs, and I didn't do anything but beg for a long, long time.