Chapter 16 Rosie #2
It comes together like no song I’ve ever written.
Each word and chord and note and harmony weaves into place like it was waiting for Finn this whole time.
Our guitars and our voices spin into perfection, one climbing and chasing the other until we reach the summit.
And when we slow into stillness, settling in the real world on a gentle waterfall of lighter notes, the residues of whatever alchemy we just created together are thick in the air between us.
It cocoons us and tethers us and forges the kind of connection I’ve got no will to break and will never experience again.
I’m outside time, in animated suspension, silently hoping the world outside the two of us no longer exists.
My chest rises and falls with shallow breaths. Finn’s cognac gaze is still and steady but searing enough to consume me, and maybe my yearning is as obvious, because he sets his guitar aside and reaches across the space between us, curling his hand around the back of my neck.
“That song is about you, you know,” he says, eyes searching mine for acknowledgment. When he finds it, because of course it’s about us, he drags my mouth to his.
Finn’s mouth is hot and his tongue is soft.
I moan into him. His kisses are heaven, and I don’t know how I’ll ever live without them.
I shift my guitar onto the timber decking and move to his lap, his thighs tensing beneath me to balance the rocking of the porch swing as I straddle his hips.
His cock is thick and hard between us, and I grow wet at the feel of it.
I press my chest against his, thread my fingers into his hair, and stroke deeper into his mouth, like I can close the smallest distance between us, but even then, I’m still not close enough.
Finn’s arms envelop me, clutching me against his body to tell me he feels the urgency too, and his kiss grows more demanding. I peel off his shirt, frustrated at the thin layer covering his skin, and he does the same to mine before unclasping my bra and tossing it aside.
I flatten my body against him, responding to his kisses and his hands and the gentle thrust of his hips with encouraging but wordless sounds.
The rock of the swing heightens the sensation of our skin finally making contact.
The scorching heat of his muscled chest crushed against my aching nipples and the drag of my nails over his carved shoulders, make my panties wet and my heart race.
I could sink into him, burrow underneath his skin, and I still wouldn’t feel complete.
Nothing but the feel of him inside me will soothe this ache.
But when I slip my hand between us and dip two fingers into the waistband of his jeans, Finn pulls away and, with a pained groan, wraps his hand around my wrist.
“Are you sure?” he asks breathlessly.
I kiss him deeply and roll my center against him. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
Finn kisses me back, his free hand finding its way to the back of my neck and a fistful of hair, but he doesn’t release my wrist.
“You promised to make me come… and come… and come… remember?” I whisper against his ear, circling my hips against his hard-on to emphasize each word.
Finn moans, then turns his face into the curve of my neck. “That isn’t what this is,” he replies, and the movement of his lips, the warmth of his breath, the gravity of his words make me shiver. “And you know it.”
“Finn—”
“I’ll make you come,” he says roughly. “I’ll make you scream. I’ll make you beg me to stop before you beg me for more.”
I whimper and curl myself around him, sinking my teeth into his shoulder as I tug the waistband of his jeans, but his fingers only tighten around my wrist.
“But I never want to be the reason you cry,” he says quietly. “You’re coming out of a serious relationship. You might regret this one day.”
“I won’t,” I tell him, and when he opens his mouth to argue, I cover it with my free hand. “Can’t you feel how right this is?”
When I’m certain he’s not going to disagree, I let my hand fall, and he drops his mouth to run his lips over the length of my neck, over my shoulder and back again. His clasp on my wrist loosens a little and his other hand traces the dip of my spine. “Yeah, I can.”
“And if you’re worried about my vulnerability, how’s this for honesty?
” I set my forehead against his and whisper, “I want to erase all traces of him. I need to reject the final claim he has on me—that he’s the only one to have been with me like that.
I hate that of all the ways I can remove him from my life, this is the thing I can’t undo.
If I have any regrets in life, it’s him. Not you.”
Finn’s body tenses, and I ghost my lips over the hard lines of his shoulder.
His physique is overwhelming in its perfection and a testament to his self-discipline and commitment.
He does what needs to be done and works hard for the things he values, and nothing moves Finn unless he wants to be moved.
Nobody could convince him to do a thing he didn’t want to do.
“I want to be free,” I murmur. “Fuck me. Please.”
With a pained moan, Finn lifts me off his lap and sets me on my feet between his open knees. Then he slides his fingers into the band of my yoga pants. He hesitates, eyes falling to Dakota, who watches us with canine disinterest.
“Dakota,” Finn snaps. “Inside and on your bed.”
She pushes to her feet with a yawn and disappears into the house without a backward glance.
With a look to make sure I’m still okay with the placement of his hands and a fast squeeze of his ropey forearms to let him know that I am, Finn drags my pants down my legs.
He steadies me with his palms on my hips as I step out of them and then tucks his thumbs into the fine lace of my panties.
He skims the edge of the fabric around to my inner thighs and curses under his breath when he finds them damp, then peels off my underwear too.
When I’m naked on the porch, warm rays of spring sunshine falling against my back, desire pooling at my core and my inner muscles rhythmically clenching with need, Finn grips my waist and rests his forehead on my stomach, eyes closed as if in prayer.
I weave my fingers into his soft blond hair. “Finn?”
He drops a gentle kiss on my skin, then ducks his head to leave another on my pussy, just above my clit, holding his hot lips against me and inhaling deeply. I close my eyes with a shiver.
I’ve never had a man go down on me, and if that one kiss is a preview of what it would be like to feel Finn’s mouth on me, I might not survive it.
“I’ve fantasized about this a thousand times,” Finn confesses.
“I’ve spent hours—days, weeks, eternity—thinking about how it’d feel to sink inside you.
To feel this tight pussy wrapped around me, my dick filling you up till you couldn’t take any more, then giving you one more inch.
So if this is what you want, I’m too weak a man to say no. ”
His declaration stuns me. Has he really been so distracted by me? My coiling desire twists alongside a growing sense of confidence and control. Finn sees a woman when he looks at me. Not a paycheck. Not a chess piece. Just me. And that’s a powerful aphrodisiac.
“I need this, Finn,” I say breathily. “I need you.”
Too soon he pulls away, and I palm a breast as I watch him unbutton his jeans and push them down his legs. His underwear follows, his cock springing free, and I whimper. Long and thick, rock hard and velvety smooth, strained and throbbing, head tight and slit beaded with precum.
Up close, he’s bigger than I first realized. Much bigger than I’m used to. My heart pounds with want and worry, and the swoop in my belly is ninety percent lust and ten percent apprehension, like a pulsing bass under a soul-changing melody. I want him, but can I handle him?
I lick my lips as Finn gives himself a gentle stroke and rolls his thumb over the hint of moisture. “I have condoms inside.”
I shake my head and widen my legs so that my thighs brace his knees. “I’m on birth control, and when I discovered he was unfaithful, I got tested for everything. If you tell me it’s safe to do this with nothing between us, I believe you.”
Finn groans and kneads his fingers into my hips. “It’s safe,” he says hoarsely. “You’re always safe with me.”
I gasp as he lifts me up and settles my knees on either side of his hips, then leans back and holds me over the head of his cock. The muscles in his abs and thighs cord with the effort of keeping the swing still, and his forearms rope with strength as he balances me over his length.
The first brush of him against my pussy almost tips me over the edge, and I gasp at the zip of arousal that sparks in my clit.
“You like that, Songbird?” Finn’s smirk is smug, his eyes intense on mine, but tiny beads of perspiration on his brow give away how hard it is for him to go slow.
I drive my fingertips into his shoulder and give him an assenting nod, and he eases me down farther.
I maintain eye contact, needing to read what this does to him as much as I want him to know how this moment is changing me, and I hiss at the feel of him finally inside me.
Finn grunts as my pussy stretches for him, pupils dilating and the line between his brows growing deeper.
He moves one hand off my hip so he can set the pad of his thumb on my clit, massaging it with slow circles that make me breathe deep and lean into him.
“That’s it. Good girl.” Finn slips his fingers through my slickness, swirling the wetness all over me and then down the shaft of his erection. “You’ve only got the tip, beautiful, so if you want more, you’re going to have to relax.”
Only the tip? Oh, God. Finn’s dick is going to end me, but I’m ready for my rebirth.
“I want it all,” I say as I ease down, moaning at the fullness. Saying what I want out loud turns me on even more, and my core relaxes enough to accept another inch. “Give it to me, Finn.”
“Fuck, yeah.” His fingers work between my legs while his other hand digs almost painfully into my hip and his voice drops to a growl of restraint. “Deep breath, Songbird. The deeper you breathe, the deeper I get.”
I sigh out a little more tension and slide again, already sensing the first hints of my orgasm coiling behind my navel and fluttering around Finn’s impressive girth.
He breathes heavily as he clenches his jaw.
“Fuck,” he grunts. “Fuck. We’re going slow this time, beautiful, because I want you to remember every second of the first time my cock sank inside you, but I’m never going to manage this again.
Remember that. Next time I’m fucking this pretty cunt, you’ll be doing some of that begging we talked about earlier. ”
His words trigger a flood between my thighs because yes, yes, I want him to ruin me. I fold myself over him with a shaky moan, my pussy stretching to accommodate more, and I can’t stop the way my hips roll.
“Such a greedy pussy,” Finn murmurs, turning his head to nip at the curve of my neck, answering the rhythm of my pelvis with a thrust of his own.
His hands travel up my body, one to cup a breast and tweak the nipple, the other to tangle in my hair and pull back my head to expose my throat to his hot tongue.
“Already taking more than she thought she could handle, and you want to know why?”
I grind against him, closing in on the base of his dick, and the revelation that I’m about to be fully seated on Finn’s magnificent cock infuses every cell of my being with uncontrollable lust.
“Why?” I demand.
The undulation of the porch swing, rocking with our movements, amplifies the friction between our bodies, and Finn groans, wrapping a large, hard arm around my waist as he anchors me to the last inch of heaven.
I cry out as my clit hits his pubic bone, then gyrate like an unhinged person.
My climax is so close, his words driving me higher and wilder.
“Because she was waiting for me. Waiting for a cock that would fill her up.” Finn grunts, arm tightening around me, our damp bodies sliding against each other, his hips rocking to meet mine.
“Waiting for a man that would stretch her the way she needs to be stretched. Waiting for the moment she was treated the way she deserved to be treated. The day she’d be fucked”—he pumps upside me, hard and feral, and I respond with a wordless cry—“by a man”—another thrust, and I’m almost there—“who knows”—Finn’s cock throbs and twitches inside me, and I can feel his orgasm bearing down alongside mine—“what the fuck”—another pump of his hips, hard and nearly violent, that pushes me over the edge—“he’s doing. ”
Finn’s final words are delivered with a primal moan.
My inner muscles clench around his cock and I’m racked with an orgasm so intense I don’t know if my eyes are closed or if I’ve slipped into semi-consciousness.
I tremble through it, waves of pleasure dragging me under, Finn’s cock pulsing inside me.
He softens as we cling to each other, catching our breaths and our thoughts.
Finn’s mouth finds mine first, but I’m waiting for it, and our kiss is deeper and more connected than ever.
I wrap my arms around his neck and open my mouth, inviting him in again.
How can a kiss feel this intimate after what we just did?
Maybe because Finn and I made more than music together this afternoon. We made magic.