Chapter 24 #2
Finn slipped out from under her skirt, moving up behind her.
One arm went around her lower stomach, the other slid between her thighs, teasing her desire from embers to flames once again.
“There is no other woman.” His breath was warm in her ear, the fierceness in his voice making her heart squeeze.
“You are the only one I see.” His thumb moved over her clit.
“The only one I want.” Two fingers slid inside her.
“Yours is the only body I want to touch.” His fingers began to thrust, dragging a moan from her.
“The only voice I want to hear when my fingers are in you, like this.” His teeth nipped her earlobe.
“And when I’m buried deep inside you, feeling you writhe and whimper and clench around me … ”
His dirty mouth had her pushed to the edge, then sent her soaring through another orgasm.
Finn’s hands moved, grabbing her, pushing her forward until her forearms were leaned on the counter—the coolness against her hot skin making her shiver.
He hiked up her skirt and pulled down her panties.
Then he freed himself, fisting his length as he pinned her gaze in the mirror.
“See what you do to me?” he rasped. Iris pressed her thighs together to ease the ache growing again. “Only you,” he said, stepping closer to rub his hardness against her heat, “do this to me.”
He rocked against her as he found and opened a condom.
He quickly slid it on, then rocked against her again.
“And you’re the only one I want to feel,” he said, sur-ging deep inside her, “like this.”
Her moan and his groan mingled, filling the room.
“Look at me,” he demanded, watching her face in the mirror. “This is all for you,” he told her, rocking his hips. “Only you.” He rocked again. “Got that?”
“Yes,” she whimpered, her body moving with him as he found the rhythm they both needed.
“And this,” Finn went on, pressing deep, “is all for me.” A needy little whimper escaped her. “Say it.”
“It’s all for you.”
Nothing had ever been truer than that right then.
She was his.
All his.
There was no more talking then. Just movement. Just pleasure. Just ragged breaths and pounding hearts.
Then, with muffled cries, they came together.
He reached for her afterward, pulling her against his chest.
“I am not, and never have been, interested in Marsha. And any potential interest on her end doesn’t change the fact that I’m not interested, okay?”
“Okay,” she agreed, feeling that strange flushing sensation move through her insides again. “I don’t like how she acts around you.”
“I get that,” he agreed, turning to tuck himself away. “Next time,” he said, “if there is a next time, stake your claim.”
“My claim?” she asked.
Finn leaned down, pulling her panties back into place, then dropping her skirt.
“If you think someone is being inappropriate, come over.”
“I was there the last time,” she said, dredging up the unresolved past. “You dismissed me. After barely introducing me.”
Finn reached for her, turning her, then reaching for her chin, tipping her head up.
“You’re right. I didn’t see it that way at the time, but you’re right. I’ll do better.” He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the outside of her lips. “I’m not used to having anyone with me,” he went on, kissing the other corner of her mouth. “But I will do better.”
With one final quick kiss to her lips, he straightened her dress and wiped a small smudge of her lipstick while she adjusted his shirt and tie.
Then they walked out of the bathroom, hand in hand, and joined the crowd as they moved toward the dining room.
True to his word, he kept her close all evening. His hand held hers, wrapped around her, or squeezed her knee under the table.
He introduced her to everyone with her full title and her connection to him.
This is Princess Iris Marivelle, my fiancée.
Each time he said it, she felt that warm gush move through her.
It was a lovely evening. Even if she had been overwhelmed by the formal table setting that included no fewer than five forks, five drink glasses, four knives, and three spoons.
But Finn sensed her confusion and squeezed her leg under the table before very slowly reaching for the correct utensil with each course of the meal.
As Finn explained, there had been a very charming panther shifter with sleek black hair and lively yellow eyes who served as the evening’s emcee.
A few speakers got up to talk about the cause: the Paranormal Preservation Fund, which was dedicated to preserving historical landmarks tied to old magic, fae architecture, vampire crypts, and so on.
The only real surprise of the night was when the emcee moved off stage to allow someone else to introduce the surprise celebrity guest.
And Monty walked out on the stage, decked out in a custom-made little suit, complete with a snappy bow tie.
“He always said he was destined for greatness,” Iris murmured as he charmed the crowd with a few jokes before introducing a siren who was one of the most sought-after and highly paid movie stars in the world.
She had a story about losing some of her own family history due to the lack of preservation efforts for most paranormal communities.
Before she felt like she could soak up everything, the event was over.
Finn was stopped another eight or ten times on their way back to their car.
But finally, they were sitting in the back of the car, her heels on the ground, her legs up on Finn’s lap, and his hands massaging her aching soles.
Her cheeks ached from smiling; her feet throbbed from standing. But her heart? That was somehow lighter.
“You were wonderful tonight,” he told her. The praise moved through her like velvet, soft and indulgent.
“I had fun,” she admitted.
“You sound surprised.”
“I guess I am. I think I was determined to hate all these events on principle. But it was fun. Even if you wouldn’t dance.”
“We can’t have the public learning I have two left feet,” he said, wincing.
“We can work on that.”
“You know how to dance?”
“Not really. But we can figure it out together. But first, we have a lot to do around the apartment.”
“Like what?”
“Like get rid of all those disgusting creepy-crawlers lining the hallway.”
“Wait … what? You collected those.”
“To try to gross you out so you would send me away,” Iris admitted, smiling at the shock on his face.
“And the teeth?”
“Another attempt to be unappealing. The vintage medical equipment too.”
“For the record, you could never be unappealing. But also, I’m kind of relieved. And impressed. I had resigned myself to a future of dead bugs and old teeth because you seemed so passionate about them.”
“Nope. Those ideas were all Selene. She was working with me on my plans to sabotage this engagement.”
Finn was silent for a moment, his eyes far away. “I didn’t realize that you weren’t a willing participant from the beginning. I’d like to believe I would have handled this whole situation differently had I known how much you didn’t want to be here.”
“I guess I’m kind of glad you didn’t know. Because if you’d broken the engagement right at the beginning, I might never have learned how much I really love about the surface.”
“Like hot pretzels?”
“And all the books. Taco Tuesdays. TV shows. Memory foam beds.”
“And me?” Finn asked, eyes warm.
“I was getting to you. You fall somewhere below fuzzy socks but above next-day delivery.”
“An honored position,” he teased as they pulled up outside the apartment building. “Here, you hold your shoes. I’ll carry you up.”
Before she could object, he was sweeping her into his arms. Her belly flipped, dragging a laugh out of her as he spun her in a circle.
Neither had any idea someone had caught the moment on their phones.
But they were all over social media within an hour, and the news cycle by the following morning.
The Tides of Love: Political Golden Boy Meets Actual Feelings—Finally!
They’d been too busy wrapped up in each other to notice.
But somewhere in the city, Henry was over the moon.