19. Olive #2
"I feel like a mess." I let out a frustrated sigh, wiping my nose with the back of my hand.
"You went through tough couple of weeks." Finn runs his hands down my arms. "You lost your job, you moved into a new house, and you survived a presentation heat. Finding out the guy you hated for the last two and a half weeks is actually a decent man adds a lot of emotional whiplash to the pile."
He understands how my brain works. He validates the chaos without making me feel crazy.
"I don't want to think anymore." I rest my head against his shoulder. "I just want to turn my brain off."
"Done." Finn slides one arm under my knees and the other around my back.
He stands up in one fluid motion, lifting me off the sofa like I weigh absolutely nothing. He cradles me against his broad chest. The smell of his crisp ozone scent wraps around me like a protective blanket, drowning out the lingering anxiety in my chest.
"No more thinking tonight." Finn carries me out of the sitting room and heads down the hallway. "Tonight, you just get to be held. We can tackle the Victor situation tomorrow."
Finn carries me through the sprawling mansion. We leave the quiet sanctuary of the east wing.
He pushes the door to his bedroom open with his shoulder.
The room reflects his personality. The space feels warm and lived-in.
A king-sized bed dominates the center, covered in a surprisingly cheerful burnt-orange quilt and a mountain of pillows.
A worn leather armchair sits in the corner next to a stack of hockey magazines.
Framed posters cover the painted drywall, showing off a side of him I haven't seen yet.
Gritty indie rock bands and vintage music festival prints mix with a few classic goalie action shots.
It feels like a twenty-six-year-old guy lives here, offering a contrast to the sterile luxury of the rest of the mansion.
The crisp, intoxicating scent of ozone and citrus fills every inch of the air, sinking deep into my lungs.
Finn walks over to the bed. He sets me down on the edge of the mattress with incredible gentleness.
He steps back. He grabs the hem of his white t-shirt and pulls it over his head, tossing the fabric onto the armchair. His broad, muscular chest is on display. A light dusting of auburn hair trails down his stomach, disappearing into the waistband of his sweatpants.
He doesn't stop there. He shoves his sweatpants and boxer briefs down his long legs and kicks them away. His thick cock springs free, standing at rigid attention. The base of his shaft already looks engorged. The thick knot stretches the skin tight.
"You look beautiful." Finn keeps his voice a low, rumbling murmur.
He steps between my knees. He reaches out and cups my face in his large, calloused hands. His thumbs brush over my cheekbones. His warm brown eyes lock onto mine, holding my gaze with intense, unwavering devotion.
He leans down and presses his lips to my forehead. He moves to my temple, kissing the soft skin. He trails down to my jawline, showering my face in tender, lingering affection. He treats me like something precious and vital.
The emotional rawness of the afternoon cracks wide open. A soft, needy whine escapes my throat.
"I've got you." Finn presses a warm kiss against my neck.
He reaches down and pulls my sweater over my head. He tosses it aside. He unfastens my jeans, his knuckles brushing gently against my stomach. He eases the denim down my legs, taking my underwear with them.
I sit naked on the edge of his bed. I feel incredibly vulnerable, stripped of all my armor.
Finn drops to his knees on the plush carpet.
He wraps his arms around my hips, pulling me to the edge of the mattress. He buries his face against my stomach, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss right above my belly button.
I tangle my fingers in his messy auburn hair. "Finn."
"You are so perfect." He kisses his way down my skin. "Everything about you is perfect."
He settles his face between my thighs.
He uses his tongue to deliver long, devastatingly thorough strokes right over my swollen clit. The hot, wet friction makes my back arch off the mattress.
I gasp, my hands gripping his broad shoulders.
Finn hums against my dripping flesh. He uses his hands to knead my thighs, keeping me anchored to the bed while his mouth consumes me.
He drinks my slick like a starving man. Every stroke of his tongue communicates absolute adoration.
He worships my body, easing the lingering doubts and the exhaustion of the day.
The pleasure builds with a warm, steady intensity, but a fierce urge to reciprocate takes over my brain. I want him, too.
I tug on his auburn hair, pulling his mouth away from my center.
Finn looks up, his brown eyes dark with confusion and lust.
"I want to give you pleasure, too." I drag my thumb across his lower lip.
A wicked, thrilled grin transforms his face. "Yes, ma'am."
He stands up and crawls onto the center of the mattress, lying flat on his back. I crawl up the quilts right after him. Turning around, I straddle his chest, facing his feet. I lower my thighs right over his face while positioning myself directly above his aching cock.
Finn's hands grip my hips. He pulls me down, burying his nose in my wetness. His tongue dives right back into my slick canal, picking up the devastating rhythm from before.
I lean forward and wrap my fingers around his thick shaft. The swollen knot at the base pulses hot against my palm. I lower my head and take the blunt tip of his cock into my mouth.
Finn groans against my dripping folds. His hips jerk upward off the bedding.
I swirl my tongue around the head of his cock, taking him deeper.
We fall into a desperate rhythm. My mouth works over his hot, rigid shaft while his tongue relentlessly attacks my clit.
He uses his hands to squeeze my ass, pulling me tighter against his mouth.
The dual sensation of giving and receiving pleasure fries my nervous system.
My thighs tremble around his ears. The quiet room fills with the wet, obscene sounds of our mouths and the harsh rasp of our breathing.
"Fuck, Olive." Finn pulls his mouth away just enough to curse
I suck harder, swirling my tongue around the sensitive ridge of his length.
Finn taps my hip, signaling to stop. "I need to be inside you. Right now."
I release him from my mouth and sit up. Shifting my weight, I turn around on the mattress to face him. I straddle his narrow hips, my knees sinking into the soft quilts on either side of his torso.
Finn looks up at me, his chest heaving. He grips my waist, guiding my hips down.
I lower myself onto his rigid length. He fills me completely. The friction steals the breath from my lungs. I sink all the way down, but the thick, swollen knot at the base of his cock stays on the outside. He keeps the engorged flesh pressed right against my sensitive entrance.
I set the pace, rising on my knees and sink back down. With every downward thrust, his swollen knot nudges and stretches my opening, teasing the tight ring of muscle without pushing past it.
"You feel incredible." Finn guides my hips, his large hands resting on my waist to help support my movements. "So tight."
I ride him, chasing the friction. The pressure of his knot bumping against my entrance stretches me a fraction wider each time, preparing my body for when we lock.
I lean forward, planting my hands on his broad chest for balance.
He reaches up and cups my breasts, rolling my tight nipples between his thumbs.
The emotional connection fuels the fire. I feel cherished and seen.
The pace turns frantic. My thighs tremble from the exertion of riding him.
"Hold on." He grips my hips tightly. In one fluid, powerful motion, he rolls us over. The sudden flip steals a gasp from my lips. My spine hits the pillows, and Finn pins me beneath his broad chest, trapping me in the soft bedding.
He props his weight on his forearms, keeping his eyes locked onto mine. He resumes the relentless pace, driving his hips forward with smooth, deep strokes.
The swollen knot continues to bump against my entrance, refusing to push past the threshold.
"Finn, please." I whine, my inner walls clamping down around his shaft. "I need it. Push it in."
"I've got you." Finn leans down and captures my lips in a desperate, bruising kiss.
He drives his hips forward. He shoves the swollen knot past my entrance, burying the thick bulb deep inside me.
The intense pressure of the knot seating inside me triggers my orgasm. I cry out against his mouth, my inner walls milking his shaft.
Finn roars. His hips stutter against mine. He pumps a hot, pulsing load of seed deep into me.
We stay locked together in the center of his bed. Finn wraps his arms around me and rolls us onto our sides, pulling the thick burnt-orange quilt over our bodies. He keeps me tucked against his chest, his nose buried in my hair.
I listen to the steady, comforting beat of his heart. The exhaustion finally claims me. I fall asleep wrapped in his arms, feeling content and knowing what I have to do. I have talk to Victor.