Chapter 18 #3
“Always so fucking wet for me.” His finger circled her entrance, making her tremble, her fingers knotting in his shirt.
“Or is some of this still me?” He let out a chuckle that was low and throaty and a little dark, that throb inside her growing unbearable.
“Sitting there telling that son of a bitch who didn’t even have the goddamn decency to put an actual ring on your finger that I’m going to renounce my vows while I’m still dripping out of you?
” He clicked his tongue against his teeth, his lips brushing her hairline. “Baby.”
She whimpered and arched against him, tilting her hips, chasing his touch.
“Look at you. Trying to fuck yourself on my fingers. That’s how bad you want me inside you.
You’re desperate for it, aren’t you?” He dipped a finger inside her, and her walls clenched around it without her meaning to.
Finn chuckled again. “But that’s not enough for you, is it?
Because you’re my greedy girl, aren’t you?
” She made a strangled noise as he curled his finger, grazing a spot that made her buck against him. “My greedy wife.”
She melted, his voice low and warm, tinged with affection and something else, something sharper and darker, something she hadn’t realized she’d craved until he gave it to her.
Hearing him praise her for the very thing she’d spent the better part of five hundred years feeling nothing but shame about, the very thing she’d damned herself for, cracked her wide open.
With one hand fisted in the front of his shirt, the other wrapped around the back of his neck, she dragged his face down to hers, crushing her lips against his.
He kissed her just as fiercely, desperate, hungry, biting at her bottom lip, soothing the sting with a swipe of his tongue.
Knees weak, useless, she clung to him, arms around his shoulders, her fingers in his hair, the soft curves of her body pressed against the planes of his.
The hand between her thighs retreated, his arm banding around her middle, jerking her up against him, lifting her off the floor. She wrapped her legs around his waist and squeezed, clinging to him as he carried her a few paces and set her down on the dresser.
“Off.”
It was clumsy, their hands bumping as she tugged on his sweats, and together they shoved them down just enough to free his cock.
Finn dragged her panties to the side, lace biting into the crease of her thigh, baring her cunt to the cool air of the room.
He shuffled closer, pressing her legs farther apart, and took himself in hand, running the blunt head of his cock through her folds, teasing her clit and coating himself in her arousal.
Her fingers curled around the edge of the dresser as she stared down at the space between them, panting in anticipation.
They both watched as he lined himself up and sank inside her, slow and deep, inch by inch, the stretch making her eyes flutter.
“Look at that, baby,” he murmured, drawing out halfway only to give a shallow, teasing thrust. “See how perfect we fit? How perfect it feels?” Finn took her hand and placed her palm flat against his chest, holding it there.
His heart thundered beneath her fingertips. “Feels like coming home, doesn’t it?”
He sank in a few more inches before pulling out until just the head of his cock was inside her.
He wrapped a hand around her knee, lifting her leg until her right heel rested on the dresser, and then, with a flex of his hips, slid all the way in with a deep thrust that tore a whimper from her throat.
“You feel that?” He did it again, punching the air from her lungs.
“That’s what being mine feels like, in case you needed a reminder. ”
Finn didn’t hold back, driving into her with a relentless rhythm, his thrusts deep and powerful, his cock stroking over her front wall each time he withdrew and bumping against something deep inside her each time his pelvis met hers, a spot that made her eyes roll shut.
She was going to come faster than she could remember ever coming before, each thrust of his cock causing the pressure inside her to swell.
“You’re getting so close, aren’t you? Squeezing me so tight. Don’t even need me to touch you, do you? Just need my cock inside you, and you’re ready to come all over it.”
She could feel herself getting wetter, everything between her thighs slick.
“Tell me, baby. Whose cock are you about to come on, huh?” Finn grunted, slamming into her. “Your fiancé’s?”
She shook her head.
“No, that’s right,” he panted. “Because I’m not your fiancé, am I? Who am I?”
The mirror behind her rattled against the wall. “Finn.”
“Uh-uh. I didn’t ask you my name.” He sank a hand into her hair and gave it a sharp tug, tearing a gasp from her lips as he tilted her head back, baring her throat. His eyes were burning into her, his teeth clenched behind parted lips. “Who am I?”
“My—my husband.” She whimpered, the tension inside her coiling tighter with every perfect stroke.
“That’s right, a leannan.” He snapped his hips, lips curving when she keened. “Now show me what a good wife you are and let me feel you make a mess on my cock.”
It was more than she could bear. Her lids slammed shut, mouth falling open on a silent scream as she fractured, her whole body freezing save for the way she clenched around Finn as if she could keep him inside of her forever.
“That’s— Fuck, that’s it. Look at you, mo chridhe,” he gritted the words out like they hurt, his pace faltering. “Oh, fuck.”
Finn bucked into her with a few short, hard snaps before letting himself go, burying himself deep inside her, more curses tumbling off his tongue, words she couldn’t hear over the sound of her labored breathing, her heart beating in her ears.
Her brain was still pleasantly floating somewhere in the stratosphere when he pulled out. She could feel the wet slide of him leaking out of her before he pressed his softening cock back in with a hiss, giving a few shallow thrusts that made her whimper, oversensitive.
“Sorry, baby.” He looked up at her through his lashes and pulled out for real this time.
She breathed a long sigh of contentment and rested her head against his shoulder, making herself at home in the space between his collar and his jaw, where his skin was warm against the tip of her nose and he smelled earthy and sweet.
Baby. She’d definitely protested a bit too much that very first day in Silver Springs, privately loving the little terms of endearment he used. Baby. Honey. Sweetheart—
She lifted her head and frowned. “What did you call me?”
Finn tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “What did I call you when?”
“Before. When we were…” She lifted her brows.
“What? My wife?” He fixed her with a challenging look, daring her to disagree. “That’s what you are.”
“That’s not what I…” She licked her suddenly dry lips, her heart beating hard inside her chest. “You called me something else.”
His eyes narrowed in confusion. “Baby?”
“No. You called me sweetheart.”
He cradled her face in his hands, staring at her like she wasn’t making any sense. “I’ve called you that before.”
A leannan. Mo chridhe.
Her chest went tight. “Since when do you speak Gaelic?”