Chapter 27
Twenty-seven
His kiss had been filled with fire and patience that was as sexy a contradiction as the man himself. And now Finn looked at her like he didn’t want to stop. Like he was trying to find some internal brake pedal and couldn’t remember where it was.
The thing was, Taryn didn’t want him to stop.
She stepped back, barely, just enough to grab his shirt at the hem and tug on it.
That did it.
Finn didn’t lunge—he claimed her. One hand at her jaw, the other gripping her hip, as his lips met hers and he was walking her backwards out of the spare room with a steady, determined pace.
She’d assumed the bedroom, but he went the other way, where every step back down the corridor was accompanied by a look as if he was asking permission.
But when she gave it—he took it like a man starved.
Her back hit the edge of the kitchen counter with a gasp, the cool timber grounding her as his mouth traced a path down her throat, his rough stubble scraping against her skin.
‘Still with me?’ he asked, his gravelly voice filled with want.
‘Barely.’
He grinned against her collarbone. Then kissed lower.
Buttons popped. Not with finesse, but with intent. Peeling her open like a secret he’d waited too long to read.
His hands were big and warm, trailing heat across her ribs, around her waist, and up under her bra until her breath stuttered.
Taryn yanked up his shirt, pausing until his arms lifted, then sent his black T-shirt to hit the floor.
He wasn’t just fit. He was sculpted. Like his body had been forged in hard days and harder nights, where the ink told the story of his survival scars.
She ran her hands over him slowly, reverently, watching his eyes go dark.
‘Taryn,’ he warned.
‘Hmm?’
‘You keep touching me like that, and I won’t stop.’
‘Good.’
The kiss that followed was messier. Needier. All tongue and teeth, between moans she didn’t recognise as her own.
Her jeans were gone before she noticed. One powerful arm lifted her, and slid her onto the bench, as fruit and vegetables were shoved aside with a grunt that rumbled through his chest and into hers.
‘Comfortable?’ he asked with a rough voice as he dropped to his knees.
She blinked. ‘What—’
‘Told you,’ he murmured, with hands sliding up her thighs, spreading her slowly. ‘No shortcuts. I want you to remember this. Every damn second.’
And then he showed her what he meant.
His mouth was relentless. His hands unforgiving. Making her forget what time was, when it felt like seconds now played into long hours as she came undone on his tongue, with her breath catching on his name like it was a prayer she’d never dared say until now.
When he stood again, her fingers fumbled at his belt, but he caught her wrists gently.
‘You sure?’
She kissed him with heat and passion. Forgetting… Rules? What rules.
He thrust into her in one slow, devastating stroke, and her whole body arched—back, neck, and soul as she wrapped her arms around him, while internally stretching to accept him.
And it was so much better than good.
His hands gripped her arse, forcing her to hold his shoulders, and with her legs around his waist he started to move. Oh, lord, he was a devil doing devilish things to her. And how each thrust was a statement and each kiss a vow to eternal damnation of sizzling sin and fire.
His fingers firmly pressed against her bud as the tip of his dick stroked against that spot inside her, quickly leading her to implode.
But Finn didn’t let up.
His hips didn’t stop.
And his fingers kept rolling.
Sending jolts of pleasure through her, making her eyes water at the intensity of this moment. She barely had time to react—but felt everything.
His arm banded around her back, the giant body before her, while inside he flexed and thickened, that she could only marvel at how full he’d made her feel.
‘You feel it too, don’t you?’ His deep ragged voice was against her ear with his hard length lined up in such a perfect way, where each stroke was unbuttoning her from the inside. ‘This… the way you look while I’m with you right now,’ he said on a pant, ‘is purely criminal.’
Hot, horny, and smouldering was this man with his hard lines and impossibly broad shoulders, with biceps she’d love to sink her teeth into.
And how he towered over her. Pure male, growly, bossy and broody, built with raw muscle and ink.
Shifting his hips, his hands and his mouth pleasing her, giving her an image she’d never be able to scrub from her mind. And didn’t want to. Ever.
‘You’re so soft,’ he murmured against her skin.
‘So damn soft. And warm.’ He cupped her head and kissed her gently this time, all while trying to coax her back from one edge right through to another.
Trying to tell her things through his touch that he would never say out loud, where lips moved slow and sensuous as their bodies found that perfect rhythm.
His muscular chest rose and fell, as his fingers moved of their own accord, exploring her folds while watching her fall apart around him. He was the master, making her body buck as he pressed, teased and taunted right at that one delicate spot, and she was nothing more than his puppet.
Instantly, her head fell back as the breath rushed out of her lungs. ‘Yes,’ she gasped. ‘God, yesss...’ The sensations collided as he overwhelmed her with his rhythm that only made her nerves sing.
His hands gripped her calves dragging her closer, then slid to her hips. There, he pulled her down deeper, eliciting a gasp as he moved with a level of assured madness, until there was nothing left between them but sweat, skin, and the sounds of two people finally—finally—giving in to each other.
Every part of her clenched. Her legs. Her body.
Her hands in his hair, pulling him into her as the vibrations racked her body.
His fingers lapped at her, effectively drawing out another orgasm so insanely, impossibly long that she could only look at him in awe as she exploded internally, while her cries echoed in the kitchen.
Bringing his lips down to her ear, he growled, ‘You’re going to do that again.’
Not like she had any choice.
His massive muscular frame owned this room and was doing a damned fine job of owning her, too.
One palm glided slowly up the inside of her leg, causing ripples to scurry through her body, which was already trembling with anticipation. His mouth crashed on hers, and she struggled to breathe but surrendered so willingly.
His strong arms lifted her to the edge where his movements became more authoritative, but his touch gentle.
And all she could do was shiver as she watched him take her.
Every roll and flex of his hips spoke of barely contained control.
The emptiness when he drew back, the suffocating fullness when he re-entered her.
That tip teasing her like a trigger from the inside.
How his hands framed her face as their tongues tangled, and moans rolled.
Losing herself with a want for his full body weight to pin her down, and to have him crave her the same way she needed him.
‘I like you watching me take you.’ His eyes, his fingers, and how he pumped into her were as if he was branding her, while overwhelming her with his unbridled masculinity.
He wasn’t smooth and shiny, he was rough, yet tender.
His kind of beauty came with pain, and yet here he was busily pleasuring her.
His eyes were wild, and his jaw locked as his fingers dug their way into her hips, gripping harder. He buried himself in her and just like that—she came again, so unexpectedly she clenched around him with a cry she didn’t muffle.
Full and moaning, she clawed at his hot inked skin to hold him closer as his thick length glided purposefully in and out of her, with his chest heaving.
But then his eyes rolled back, and he plunged deeper with swift, punishing thrusts. Growling in her ear, his body tensed as he slammed himself deep and released a guttural moan that rumbled from the depths of his chest.
It was the sexiest thing she’d ever heard.
He moved slowly to completely empty himself and then held her.
They panted, with their hearts pounding, trying to get some precious air into their lungs, while covered in perspiration.
She rested her forehead on his, still perched on that bench, her body buzzing and her heart… It wasn’t just fluttering.
It was flying.
‘So,’ she whispered, breathless, ‘no bed, huh?’
His gaze dragged over her body, then back up to share a mischievous smile she’d never seen before. Even his voice was lazy and deliciously wrecked. ‘Didn’t want you thinking this was anything ordinary.’
Her eyes drifted across his inked body to meet his dark hungry eyes. ‘Nothing about you is ordinary.’