Chapter Twenty-Three - Michaela
Chapter Twenty-Three
MICHAELA
“SHIT,” FINN PULLS AWAY and takes two large steps back. “Shit, I’m sorry.” He tugs at the ends of his hair before straightening out his shirt.
“Finn—”
“I don’t know what came over me, I—I shouldn’t have done that. You’re… You’re still married and—”
“Finn.” Finally, he meets my stare, fingers clench at his sides before his gaze falls to my lips, and he moistens his own. I can’t remember the last time someone made every nerve feel like it was on fire, definitely not David. My heart beats rapidly at the anticipation. “Shut up.”
That’s all it takes for him to close the gap again. His kiss is rough, contrary to the one we shared moments ago. Fingers thread through my hair giving a soft tug before he nips my lower lip. His mouth is hard and demanding, and his tongue probes deeply taking what he wants. “Strawberry,” he murmurs against me. His lips leave a burning trail from my jaw to my ear, “I always knew there was a reason I called you Shortcake.”
My fingers clench the fabric of his t-shirt when he takes my mouth again, a moan echoing between us. He pushes me against the wall of the hallway, chest flush against mine — he devours me. The way he dominates every part of me is delicious.
His teeth graze my neck before sinking into the skin earning a small gasp that seems to please him. He hums against the skin. A combination of nibbling and sucking is sure to leave a mark, but his tongue follows to soothe the pain.
Finn cups my ass and squeezes lifting me off my feet. I wrap my legs around his torso, where I can feel his erection stiff against me. The aching between my legs intensifies thinking about it. Remembering how he felt when we—
“We can stop,” he whispers, nipping at my ear. I take a shaky breath when his almost black eyes pierce mine, filled with nothing but desire. “Forget this happened. Forget it’s happened before. Go back to the way things have always been.” He flexes his hips, and I bite back a moan at the feeling. “You want that, Shortcake?”
“No,” it’s breathless. No, I most certainly do not want that. The only thing I want is him on top of me. I can feel his pulse beating rapidly under my touch when I bring his lips back to mine. “I need you, Finn.”
That's all the validation he needs to keep going.
His hands tighten their hold and carry me to my bedroom. I swear my heart is going to beat out of my chest. My mind races in a million different directions now — What happens in the morning? Are we going to regret this? Are we supposed to go back to the way things were? They never left , is what he said last time. What about this time?
Finn drops me on the edge of the burnt orange duvet and shrugs his jacket off before pulling his t-shirt over his head in one swift motion. My eyes must have grown ten times their size by the way he laughs. “Damn.” I tentatively reach out toward him, allowing my fingers to dust over his tanned skin, and his body trembles slightly under my touch. “You’ve been hiding this the whole time?”
“You’ve been looking?”
A blush creeps into my cheeks. What am I supposed to say? I can’t admit to checking him out. I mean, no, I have not been checking him out. Definitely not.
He kisses me gently, “Don’t worry, baby, me too.”
Fuck me.
“Don’t worry, I plan to,” he chuckles.
Did I say that out loud? Shit, I’ve got to stop doing that.
Finn slowly drags my oversized T-shirt up my torso, his fingers leaving a burning trail in their wake. They graze the sides of my bare breasts, and his eyes brighten, realizing I’m not wearing a bra. I chew on the corner of my mouth. He lets my shirt fall to the floor and his eyes freely roam every inch of my skin. Without hesitation he bends to capture my lips in another kiss, this one softer than the others. His tongue massages mine in slow, languid movements. It’s the most sensual thing I’ve ever experienced. David was not a sweet lover, he was a hit-it-and-quit-it kind of lover. Finn takes his time — exploring, tasting, and enjoying himself.
His warm hand reaches to cup my breast, and his fingers knead the doughy flesh before he pinches my nipple. My core throbs in need. I tug for the waistband of his jeans, fingers fumbling with his belt. Why is this thing so difficult to undo? He chuckles under his breath and he gently removes my hands. He undoes the belt himself. My cheeks burn waiting for some smartass remark, but it never comes. Instead, he lifts my chin to meet his gaze and the only thing in his eyes is want and need.
“Aren’t you going to finish what you started?” The words send a shiver down my spine and my fingers make quick work of the rest of his jeans.
A soft intake of breath falls from his lips when I softly cup him over his briefs watching as his eyes darken. Fuck, he’s hard. So hard. I can feel his pulse under my touch. It sends a jolt of electricity straight to my core. My mouth ghosts over his matching the light graze of my fingers across the fabric covering his cock.
“Stop teasing,” Finn warns.
“Who’s teasing?” I smirk, unsure where the sudden confidence comes from as I push my sweats down my legs, stepping out of the heap on the floor. There’s no going back as I stand completely bare to him.
“Fuck, Michaela.” His eyes practically roll in the back of his head before they drink in every inch of me. “Look at you,” he murmurs, and I’ve never felt like this before. Under his ravenous stare, I feel pretty and powerful. He reaches out to trace my curves, “God, you’re beautiful.” Finn pushes me back and I reach for him as he climbs on the bed. He cups my entrance, his fingers gently teasing me. His lips ghost across my jaw to my ear, a soft purr in his tone, “You’re already so wet for me, Shortcake.”
He slides one finger inside me, and his lips capture mine. His tongue flicks against mine – claiming, stroking in a desperate embrace. I gasp when he pushes another finger inside me. My back arches from the bed when his thumb finds my swollen clit beginning a relentless assault. I begin to grind against his fingers in time with his movements. “I need you," I whimper.
“Not yet,” he mumbles. “I want to taste you when you come. I didn’t have the pleasure last time.” His words raise goosebumps across my skin. One more kiss, hard and deep, before he stares deep into my eyes. And in this moment, I don't need anything else but him – for tonight, this man is mine. “Would you like that, Shortcake?”
”Yes,” I gasp when his fingers curl inside me. “Fuck yes.”
Soft nips down my neck and collarbone send a shudder down my spine before capturing my left nipple in his mouth. His tongue moves in time with his thumb against my clit, sucking and nibbling on my hardened bud. I can feel the fire building deep inside my belly as he moves to my right breast, doing the same.
”Finn." His name is barely above a whisper as my fingers tug his hair.
“Not yet, Michaela.” His tone is unmistakably dominant pulling his fingers from me. I gasp at the sudden loss. Fuck, I was right there. I squeeze my thighs together, trying to find some kind of relief, but it’s not enough. His lips ghost over my left thigh, his tongue traces the outline of my tattoo on my left thigh. “I knew I saw a tattoo last time,” his voice is cocky, and I swear I can hear the smirk in his words. Like he’s been thinking about the last time we were intimate. A soft whine resounds in my throat needing more of him. “Trust me, baby,” Finn spreads my legs, “you’ll like this much better.”
I cry out when he puts his face between my legs, his tongue licking a long stripe up my entrance to my clit. A guttural groan sounds deep in his throat when he delves deeper into me. “You taste delicious,” he mumbles against my core slipping a finger inside me. The tiny bundle of nerves between my legs throbs under his assault and I’m losing myself in him. Willing to give myself over to him without a promise of tomorrow because all that matters is right now.
“Oh my God,” I gasp when he reaches up with his right hand to pinch my nipple. He smiles, slipping another finger inside me. I can feel that coil deep in my belly begging for release. I lift my right leg over his shoulder, desperate for more friction, and I find myself bucking against his tongue. Long, lazy licks turn to quick, teasing ones, and back; he knows exactly what he's doing. “Don’t stop,” it’s a low whimper, but I know he hears me when his lips capture my clit. He suckles on the small bud, and that familiar fire ignites.
Finn moans and tightens his grip on my legs pulling me further into him. “Go ahead, baby. You don’t have to wait. You don’t have to wait, okay, Shortcake?” He’s not going to torture me with waiting, not this time. When his lips find my clit again, a wave of pleasure crashes through me again and again.
When I come down from my high, Finn stares at me with the sweetest smile that sends a different wave of emotion through me. I do my best to suppress it because there’s a big chance this is a one-and-done thing. I mean, there’s no way we’re going to do this again… Right? He pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. “You look so sexy when you come, y’know that?” He kisses me. It’s soft and sweet and I taste myself on him when he deepens it.
I slip my thumb into the waistband of his boxers, but he stops me. “One sec,” he kisses me and steps off the bed. Reaching for his slacks, he pulls his wallet from the front pocket retrieving a condom.
“You want one of those now ?” I laugh.
“Don’t you?” He asks with a raised brow.
“Didn’t seem to bother you last time.”
Finn chuckles but rips the foil with his teeth anyway and shoves his underwear down his legs. I know I’ve seen him before, but I can’t help but stare. “Shortcake,” his voice brings my gaze back to his face. I rise to my knees and meet him at the edge of the bed. I thread my fingers in his sandy-brown hair pulling his lips to mine, but he pulls away. “Are you sure, Michaela?”
A little late for that, I think.
I nod, my words soft. “I want you.”
“Good, because I need you.” Finn lays me back against the bed and pushes inside me. “Fuck,” Finn hisses pressing his forehead against mine. I don’t respond as I adjust to the sweet stretch of him, my nails digging into his shoulders. This feels so much better than last time. “You okay?” I finally open my eyes to meet his sweet brown orbs and melt at the concern in them.
“I’m great.” The final word drags out as he thrusts into me. So great. Subtle pulses before he pulls out and slams back in again. He finds a rhythm that sends me spiraling. I thank God we’re alone because I can’t contain the sounds I make.
He smothers my moans with a deep kiss and wraps my right leg around his waist lifting my hips slightly to dive deeper. This new angle sends currents of electricity to my aching core, and I writhe beneath him. “You take me so good, baby girl.”
My skin feels like it’s on fire. And it’s almost like he knows it as his thrusts become agonizingly slower than before. Like he’s savoring each one. I rock my hips against his trying to find that release, but he refuses to give it to me.
“Please,” I beg.
“You want to come?”
“Please, Finn, yes. Please, let me come.”
Stubble scrapes across my skin as he hums against my neck before he bottoms out inside me. He doesn't give me time to adjust before pulling out and slamming in again. He does it repeatedly; each time, it’s quicker than before, his movements wild and unruly. And it’s there, that coil begging for release tightening more and more. His thrusts grow more staggered before he finds his release. He captures my lips in a brutal kiss, his fingers reach between us to capture my sensitive bundle of nerves. “Let go, baby girl,” he demands, and I do. That blinding white heat rips through me, and he holds me as the final waves of release subside.
Sunshine filters through cream curtains casting a warm glow on my face, but I won’t let the sun win. My alarm hasn’t gone off which means it’s not time to get up, but I know it’s morning from the birds chirping outside my window. My head rests on something much softer than how I remember Finn’s chest feels. Lazily, I reach across the bed searching for him, but my hand meets cold sheets instead of a warm body. Okay, so Finn isn’t a morning cuddler because I’m clutching a pillow instead of him. I peel open my eyes to look around the room, but any sign of him is gone. His clothes have been picked up from the floor and my pajamas have been folded neatly on the dresser. The only real evidence I have of the night before is the ache between my thighs.
You've got to be kidding me.
Of course, he would be gone before I woke up. Why would I expect anything else?
Pulling a Rosecliffe sweater over my head, I trudge to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Maybe it’s good I’m up this early. I was going to stay home. Try and sleep, but maybe I’ll go into the office anyway. I don’t think I want to be home right now, I might go insane.