40. Finn #3
I grin. "Wasn't planning on it." I kiss down her neck.
Slow. Tasting. Salt and something sweet.
She arches into me, just slightly. Fingers tightening in my hair.
Tugging. I take my time. Learning what makes her gasp.
What makes her moan. What makes her pull me closer.
What makes her squirm. My hand slides under her shirt. Warm skin. Soft. Perfect.
"Can I take this off?"
She nods. Breathless. Eager. I sit up and help her pull the shirt over her head. Her hair falls messily around her face. She's wearing a simple bra. Nothing fancy. Nothing lacy. Just plain cotton.
Perfect.
I lean down. Press a kiss to her collarbone. Then lower. The hollow of her throat. The swell of her breast above her bra.
She shivers. Full-body.
"Cold?"
"No," she whispers. "Just...sensitive."
I grin against her skin. "Good. I like sensitive." I kiss lower. Along the curve of her breast. Down her stomach. Her muscles jump under my lips. She's trembling now. Not from fear. From anticipation. From want.
I hook my fingers into the waistband of her jeans. Pause. Look up at her. Meet her eyes. "Yes?"
"Yes. Fuck, yes."
I chuckle slightly, not having heard her cuss before. I slide the denim down slowly. Taking my time. Revealing her inch by inch.
She lifts her hips to help.
She's beautiful. All soft curves and smooth skin.
I toss the jeans aside. Then settle between her legs, my breath warming the skin just below her ribs. Hands on her thighs.
She tenses slightly. Just slightly.
"Hey," I say softly, rubbing my thumbs in small circles. "We don't have to…"
"I want to," she says quickly, propping herself up on her elbows. "I just...I've never..."
"I know."
"Lachlan was my first. My only."
"I know," I say again, gently. "And this is different. That's okay. Different isn't bad."
She searches my face. Then nods. Lies back down. "Okay."
I shift lower, and lean down to press a kiss to her inner thigh.
She gasps.
I grin. Kiss higher.
"Relax."
"I'm trying."
"Try harder."
She huffs out a laugh. And just like that, the tension breaks. Dissolves. I kiss higher. Slowly. Teasingly. Taking my time. Building anticipation. She squirms. Hips shifting.
"Finn…"
"Patience."
"I don't have patience."
I laugh against her skin. "Yeah, I'm learning that about you."
I hook my fingers into the waistband of her underwear and pull them down slowly, tossing them aside.
I kiss higher still. Until I'm exactly where I want to be.
Then I taste her. Finally. She cries out.
Hands flying to my hair. Gripping. Pulling.
I take my time. Learning her. What she likes.
What makes her shake. She's responsive. So responsive.
Every touch. Every kiss. Every flick of my tongue.
She reacts. Gasps. Moans. Pulls at my hair.
And I love it. I love making her feel this way.
I slide one finger inside her. Slow. Careful.
She tenses. Then relaxes. Opens.
"Okay?"
"Yes," she gasps. "Fuck, yes."
I add a second finger. Curling slightly. Finding that spot. She arches off the bed. Full-body arch. "Finn…"
"I've got you. Just let go. Let me make you feel good."
I work her slowly. Steadily. Building the pressure. Building the heat. She's close. I can feel it. She tightens around my fingers and her breathing changes into short, sharp gasps. She pulls at my hair as her thighs tremble.
"Let go," I murmur against her. "Come for me."
And she does. She comes apart beautifully. Crying out. Shaking. Back arching. Fingers pulling my hair so hard it almost hurts. I work her through it. Gentle. Steady. Until she's boneless. Breathless. Trembling.
I press one last kiss to her inner thigh. Then crawl back up beside her.
She's staring at the ceiling. Eyes wide. Chest heaving. Skin flushed. Beautiful.
"You okay?"
She turns her head to look at me, slowly, like she's not quite back in her body yet—and smiles. Bright. Genuine. Satisfied. "Yeah," she breathes. "I'm really okay. That was...wow."
I grin. "Good. That was the goal."
She reaches for me. Pulls me down into a kiss. Soft. Grateful. Sweet. Perfect. When she pulls back, she's still smiling. "Your turn?"
I shake my head. "Not tonight."
"But…"
"Tonight was about you," I say softly, brushing her hair back from her face. "That's enough. More than enough. This made me happy."
She studies my face. Searching. Then nods. "Okay. But next time…"
"Next time," I agree, grinning. "Definitely next time."
I pull her close. Tucking her against my chest. She fits perfectly, like she was made to be here. Her head on my shoulder. Her arm across my stomach. Her leg tangled with mine.
"Finn?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For today. For...all of it. For making me feel normal. Special. Safe."
I press a kiss to the top of her head. Breathe in her scent.
The wildflowers are so clear now—not just a hint, but a full, intoxicating bloom that clings to her skin, her hair, everything about her.
It's uniquely hers, this floral note that I've come to crave.
I breathe her in again, letting it settle into me.
"Anytime. Always."
She sighs. Content. Safe. Satisfied. And I—I just hold her. Feeling the weight of what just happened. The significance of it. The certainty of it.