CHAPTER 59
What is it about you that makes your partner crave your time and attention? These are things you should know and wield with care.
I’m rinsing the conditioner from my hair in the shower when a breeze wafts over me.
I spin around to see Finn standing there at the shower door naked.
A flutter of excitement builds in my stomach at the sight of him in all his glory.
His cock is hardening as his eyes trail over my body.
He palms his base and runs his hand up and down its length.
“You’re letting the cold air in.”
“I just wanna look my fill first. You’re quite somethin’ to see, Lil’ bird.”
“Yeah?” I run the soap over my breasts and lather them under his heated gaze.
Finn doesn’t have the ability to tell me no, and I often use his weaknesses for my body against him. In the end, I use this power to please the fuck out of him, and give him all the pleasure he’s missed out on, so it’s not necessarily a bad thing. It’s just my part in the power play in our dynamic.
“Yeah, woman. I mean, look at you. It’s a sight I could wake up to every day, and it would never be enough.”
I grin and reach forward to grab his hand.
“Shut up and get in here with me.” The words are soft and sultry.
He enters and closes the door behind him.
His hands immediately go to my hips, but they quickly travel up my torso until he’s caressing my breasts and teasing my nipple.
The slight pinch as he rolls them tightly between his fingers sends a straight shot of heat to my pussy.
“Did you already wash yourself clean, or do you want me to do that for you. Because I’m all for doing this act of service to show my gratitude for last night?
” His hand skates down my body slowly, and when his fingers find my wet folds, they slide smoothly through the wetness there.
He doesn’t wait or ask for permission; he merely slides two fingers slowly inside of me.
Curling them, he so easily finds the spot that makes my breath hitch, and once he does, he hits it on repeat with insane accuracy.
I clutch his shoulders and go up on tippy toes as I let out a reactionary moan from the pleasure.
He latches his other hand around my neck and guides my face to his so he can take my mouth.
He walks me back and we make out under the spray until he picks me up and forces my back against the tiled wall. I wrap my legs around him as his cock breaches my entrance and drives home.
In between our consuming kisses, he tries to speak. “Fuck, I can’t… can’t get enough. Best kind of drug there is, baby… you and the feel of you riding my cock like a fiend. Always willin’ to take it. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes.”
“Doesn’t matter when or where, does it?”
“Fuck no.”
“Because you love it, don’t you?”
“Finn.”
“Don’t you?”
“Yes.”
I do. I love the smell of it. Love the high it gives me.
I love the scent of him. His body, his cum.
I love feeling it on my fingers, and I especially love what the sight of it dripping out of me does to him.
To tell the truth, he’s created a sex craved monster.
I can’t get enough of him either, and we often disappear from the world to get lost in each other like two nymphomaniacs drunk on love and ecstasy.
He’s my drug of choice, and I’m his. When we’re together, time holds little meaning, maybe because we have so much of it to make up for, so we revel in the time we’ve been given.
The water raining down, accompanied by steam and music playing in the background, forms a soundtrack that mixes with our inhales and exhales, our gasps and moans. A song all of its own, and one I’ll never get tired of hearing.
He reaches around and grabs my ass. His fingers dig into the skin as he uses his grip to pound into me. I swivel my hips and meet him thrust for thrust. My cries rise higher and higher. I cling to him as it gets to be too much.
“That’s it. Take it, baby. Take what you need, like my very own little sex craved demon. My little nympho. That’s what you are, isn’t it?”
He grips my hips tightly and slams inside with three powerful thrusts.
“Oh, fuck. There. Yes. Jesus! Yes. I’m gonna… fuck, I’m gonna come!” I agree to it all and drag my nails down the muscles of his back as my orgasm hits with such a crippling intensity that my back bows, and I kick my head back to suck air into my lungs as I fall apart.
The heat in the shower water pales in comparison to the amount of heat radiating between us. Even as he continues to fuck me through it, my pussy clenching around him. His release comes fast and hard, and as his cum coats my inner walls, he lets out a long groan against my lips.
It’s chaos and madness when we come together. Our kisses are a spark to a match that sets off a chain reaction of events, and what follows is an explosion of passion neither of us can contain. Shower. Floor. Bed. Countertop. Where and what we end up fucking on is anyone’s guess.
He gently sets me back on my feet. I hold on to him until my knees aren’t as weak anymore, which he gets a kick out of. Then we proceed to wash each other and every so often share a kiss that threatens to spin us into another fevered state.
“Still can’t believe this is real sometimes.” He says as he runs his hand over my hair.
“Believe it, baby,” I say with a smirk. He wraps his arms full around me and holds me.
Then he rocks me back and forth. I can’t tell him what that does to me because then I’d be revealing my own weakness.
The way he holds me. The comfort I find in his arms is the absolute best fucking thing I’ve felt in my life.
It is my Holy Grail, and I never want a day to go by where I’m not exactly right here, where I want to be most.
When I finally pull back, I palm his scruffy cheek and ask, “You ready for this, the surgery, I mean?”
He shakes his head and his mouth pinches into a frown.
“Not really, but I want to get it over with.”
“What worries you the most?”
He places his forehead on mine and closes his eyes. “I don’t want to lose this, Lil’. I don’t want them to fuck with my head and make it worse. Because, fuck. What if they make it worse?”
I’m terrified too. So fucking terrified that I haven’t been sleeping as well. Goose bought me a dreamcatcher to hang above our bed, and coincidentally or not, the night terrors have lessened.
“Hey,” I whisper, and he opens his eyes and pulls back to stare down at me.
“You’re forgetting something.” His lips twitch as if to smile, but he keeps his frown in place.
“You’re forgetting about hope, baby. We have to hope for the best, and living in pain every day is no way to live.
We just need to pray our damndest and have hope that everything will work out.
Because we fucking deserve this break, don’t we? ”
He places a peck on my lips. “Yeah, we sure the fuck do.”
“Then, good thoughts, okay. Don’t fear the worst. Pray for the best. And no matter what, you have to promise to come back to me.”
He pulls me in tight again and vows, “I promise. I fucking promise.”
“I’ll be waiting for you.”
It’s later, as he’s getting dressed, that I voice my own fears. “What if you forget who I am?”
He comes to stand in front of where I’m sitting on the edge of the bed. He studies my face for a while and then hooks my hair behind my ear. “You gonna be right here by my side, no matter what?”
“Of course.”
“Then make me remember, Lil’. Show me the journals.
We’ll both keep track of our days every day, and if I ever lose time, we’ll backtrack or rewind or whatever.
I’ll relearn about those special moments we’ve had.
Because I can’t promise they won’t happen.
But I can promise that I’ll never get enough of learning about our story and how each of those pieces fits together. ”
He brings me up to standing and wraps his arms around me.
I cry a few silent tears into his shirt.
I dread the day that happens. I know it will, and I cry for the future me that we will face that day, and how hard it will be for that version of me to show him through my point of view what he’s missing from his.
It’s sad and it hurts, but it’s the only path left for us.
It’s our story, and it’s riddled with holes, but it’s also a perfectly pieced-together puzzle of beautiful feathers and breadcrumbs, full of dreams, music, and memories.
The story of us, and I’ll forever be its storyteller for as long as we both shall live and maybe beyond that.