15. Everything Nice
Courtney
“What do you think?” Finn’s tall frame fills the doorway. One of his large hands is tucked into his pocket, the other holding a small stack of documents. His pensive eyes study the gold crown molding that lines the ceiling then trickle down to me. A current runs up my spine in response.
“It’s perfect,” I answer honestly, not bothering with a formal greeting. I turn my attention towards him, my hand coming up to rub my arm in a comforting motion.
“You left early this morning.”
“I apologize,” his voice is professional as if bridling his true emotions. “Being mayor means working at odd hours, unfortunately.” I nod, casting my disappointed gaze down to his shoes.
Finn takes a few steps further into the shop, closing the door behind him. My eyes snap back up to his as I clock the movement. Shutting the door is a perfectly normal thing to do, especially with bad weather brewing, but the act makes the space feel much smaller and much more intimate, pushing a shot of adrenaline straight into my nervous system.
“You amaze me, Courtney Berrycloth.” He admires, his tone low and almost ominous as he sets the small stack of papers down on the ledge of the bay window. I feel my heart flutter at the sultry words of praise and a low heat begins to boil in my stomach.
“Why’s that?” I keep my voice casual, ignoring the moisture between my thighs. He continues his slow creep toward me, a hunter stalking his prey.
Finn rubs his chin through his beard as his glacial eyes bounce from me to other points of the room; as if looking at me for too long makes him lose a focus he’s desperate to hold onto.
“You found an old, beat-up flower shop in a dying town and saw its potential.” He’s standing right in front of me now, I can feel his warmth bleeding through the space between us. The scent of his cedar wood cologne is so rich and delicious, mixed with his deep voice, he becomes entirely intoxicating. There’s no way I’m getting turned on by a hot mayor praising me over my appreciation for his town. Except, there is a way and the puddle in my panties is proof.
“I wonder if you could do the same for a person.”
“I-,” I attempt a sentence. What exactly was I going to say? What does he mean? I’m not sure. I feel my eyelids flutter as I inhale a deep whiff of his delicious musk.
Finn makes the first move. His large hand reaches out and cups my cheek softly but firmly, I nestle into it before he slowly trails his long fingers down my neck. A wave of static rushes over me and I shutter at just how good his touch feels, his palm comes to rest flatly on my chest above my breasts. Now he can definitely feel how hard my heart is beating against its cage, threatening to break free. There’s no hiding the way he makes me feel.
We lock eyes as he leans in, lowering from his height and connecting his lips with the goose-bumped skin of my neck. I let out a small moan and tip my head back, exposing more of my flesh for him to kiss. Every ounce of me is struggling against myself, I should stop him, I’m not emotionally ready for this but physically..
He hooks a finger into the waistband of my leggings and all rational thoughts go up in flames. I wrap my arms around his neck and he moves quickly, instantly reduced from respectful public official to carnal need.
Scooping me up by my ass, he deposits me into the abandoned chair, I settle into the old piece of furniture with a plop, and Finn’s hands are once again around my leggings, tugging them down. I watch as he peels them down my legs, leaving me in my lacy navy thong, his smoldering eyes look much hungrier than before as he keeps eye contact with me. I risk a look away from him and glance straight ahead, out the bay window directly in front of us. If someone were to walk past, they would get an eyeful of what the mayor and I were doing.
“F-Finn,” I warn in a stutter as he places a kiss on my bare thigh. He looks up at me through his dark eyelashes and traces my line of sight, noting my concern.
“Don’t worry. No one will be walking around with the weather like this.” As if to back up his point, thunder cracks loudly outside the shop. I bite my lip, contemplating only momentarily before giving him a consensual nod to continue.
He spares no time, gripping either side of my thong and ripping it apart down its seam. The sound of shredding fabric engulfs the silence that follows the next clap of thunder and I stare wide-eyed down at him. Before me, is not the well-mannered mayor that the townspeople knew; he’s the rugged, primeval God I had fantasized about. Finn takes in my shocked expression before tossing the two sheer pieces of fabric to either side and gripping my knees in his large hands, pushing them apart savagely so that I’m on full display to him. Only now do his eyes dare to stray from mine, dipping low to see the wetness of my core.
“Mmm, Courtney.” He praises just above a whisper, his voice deep and gruff, almost a growl. His words cause another stream of wetness to flow from me. “You’re already wet, baby. Do you want me as badly as I want you?”
That is all I needed: a few words of confirmation, and suddenly, I don’t care about being the best person possible. I don’t care that I have my own emotional unavailability and issues to work through before I can fully commit to him. I don’t care about anything aside from fucking Mayor Finn Abernathy.
“I want you,” I admit to him and myself, running my hand down my own thigh and over his hand that still rests firmly on my knee. The veins on the back of his hands bulge from how tightly he’s gripping me, his knuckles turning ghostly white after my confession.
“That’s all I needed to hear.” Without warning, Finn slides his hands up my thighs and dips his head in a swift motion, his tongue darting out and coming into perfect contact with my clit.
I gasp as he gently circles the swollen numb like a shark locked in a feeding frenzy, encircling its prey. My core tenses with anticipation and desire as he works me slowly, teasingly.
I peer down my stomach at him, watching him taste me conservatively. Small whimpers fall from my parted lips, begging him to stop the teasing and devour me whole. Without needing words, he translates what I’m asking of him, beginning to lap at me more fervently. His rougher and more calculated licks force me to hook my fingers below the seat, desperate to find something to ground me. Through my pleasure, I keep a hesitant eye on the window, still anxious that someone will walk by and get a full view of the mayor’s face buried between my thighs. Finn lashes his tongue quickly over my clit, causing me to cry out and return my attention to the beautiful blue-eyed deity in front of me.
I shove my fingers into his raven hair.
“You’re taking it well so far, baby. Can you handle more?” His icy pools are focused on my face but his mouth remains on my entrance, his lips brushing my folds as he speaks. My brain is so muddled with emotion I can hardly conjure a single thought or word, so a few syllables will have to do.“Mm-hm,” I’m practically begging him to give me more through the desperation in my voice.
A pleased smirk creeps onto his face; it’s so sinfully hot that I’m convinced I could come just by looking at him. He reaches forward, sliding his middle and ring finger between my lower lips, dragging them up and down until they’re sopping in my excitement. I watch in anticipation as my tongue juts out to wet my bottom lip. I can only imagine what wild, sex-crazed animal I look like in this moment but, whatever I look like, Finn can’t seem to get enough of it. His gaze has been locked on mine the entire time, relishing the way I’m falling apart at his touch.
He slowly begins to massage my entrance open, teasing me with only the tips of his long fingers and then pulling them back out again, gauging my reaction as he does. I whimper out a complaint of annoyance. I’d spent the entire duration of my stay in Havenwood fantasizing about his fingers being inside me and now, on the precipice of going full feral, he dares to only taunt me with them.
Just as I’m about to complain again, he shoves his fingers unforgivingly deep inside me. His eyes darken with lust as I gasp at the unexpected, yet welcomed, trespass.
I straighten my back with a pleasure-filled cry, my jaw dropping entirely as the pain of being stretched and the ecstasy of being penetrated mingle, I shutter as I attempt to regain my bearings. Before that can happen, Finn is retreating his fingers and plunging them back inside me with merciless force. My grip on the rim of the chair tightens as he uses his thumb to apply pressure to my clit, his fingers continually slamming into me and curling ever so perfectly to hit that spot inside of me. An inexorable pressure is mounting inside me much sooner than expected.
“This morning,” Finn bends at the waist and trails soft kisses along my stomach. He knows I’m close and he’s keeping perfect tempo, a feat most men can’t seem to accomplish, pumping his fingers in and out of me at a consistent rhythm that has me teetering on the edge.
“I left because I couldn’t bear to be so close to you and not touch you. I had to go home and fuck my hand and pretend it was you.” He dips his head low once again and replaces his thumb with his tongue, his long fingers continuing to work me.
“F-Finn,” his lascivious words doom me, and with a few more gyrations of his tongue, I’m melting, pushed over the edge into euphoria. My orgasm hits me like a fucking tidal wave and I find my hazy vision locked onto the icy blues in front of me as my voice breaks on a silent scream.
“Good girl, come for me.” He encourages as I ride his fingers, prolonging the already unceasing waves of my orgasm, more breathy praise falling from his lips.
As I collapse into the chair, my chest heaving to regain my breath, Finn steadily removes his fingers, as if savoring the feeling before he can’t any longer. For a beat, we sit in stunned silence. Me, unraveled in the chair and him, sitting on his knees between my legs.
Without so much as a word, he raises his drenched fingers to his mouth and drags them down his tongue, allowing my liquid to pool into the curve of his tongue. I watch, mesmerized, as he rises to his feet and stands over me. With his mouth still slightly ajar, he laces his fingers into my brown hair and yanks at its roots, forcing my head to tip back. Using his free hand, he squeezes my cheeks, coaxing my mouth open. I do what he wants with little push back, curious to see where the mayor is taking this.
Once my mouth is open expectantly, he extends his tongue, my liquid that had previously pooled inside his mouth now dripping from the tip and into my mouth. The first strands of glistening liquid hit my tongue and I’m met with the piquant, delicate taste of my own orgasm. Before I can process what the actual fuck just happened - and how hot it was - Finn is back in front of me, gingerly pulling my leggings back over my expended legs.
“I thought you should taste how delicious you are.” Is the only explanation he offers me in his husky voice. His glorious eyes look me over once more before he excuses himself, exiting the shop into the rain. I open my mouth to protest but he’s gone before the words even form.
I stare at the chipped pastel paint of the shop’s front door long after Finn has departed. I’m disheveled, exhausted, and desperate for more of him. My thoughts refuse to silence themselves as I gnaw relentlessly on my innocent inner cheek. Why did I allow that to happen? There will be absolutely no hiding from my feelings for Finn now, now that I’d let him touch me and prove every dirty fantasy I had about his sexual abilities was correct.
I rise from the chair onto flimsy legs, unaware of exactly where I’m going but knowing I need expert advice- and maybe a wheelchair.