Chapter 23 #2
“Guess I should turn this into a proper office, now that you’ve offered me a job where I’d actually need one,” I muse, wondering what the best way to pack everything up will be.
“No,” he says it so firmly that I do a double-take, turning toward him.
“If you want an office, then we’ll build one in the workshop; I can get the walls up in a week.
If that’s too close, you can take over the apartment upstairs.
If you need it, I’ll get my parents to agree we can use my childhood bedroom.
I really don’t care. But you’re not giving up your space. ”
“It’s not that important, Finn.”
“It is,” he argues, prowling toward me like I’m a prey animal he’s hunting. I step backward, and he uses his huge arms to box me in against the wall. “I love that you have this space. I always want you to have this for whatever hobbies you feel like doing at any time.”
My breath catches and I look up at him. “The back corner of your workshop works, too,” I say weakly, staring into those dark eyes. The intensity that he looks at me with makes me melt.
“Good. We’ll order you a desk. I’ll talk to my Dad about where would be best, and we’ll throw up some walls so you have privacy.”
“I don’t need walls,” I object. A corner of the workshop is good enough.
“Walls might be for me,” he admits. “Not sure I’ll work well if I’m watching you all day. But please, feel free to interrupt me whenever you want.” He closes his eyes for a second. “Going to love having you close.”
I think I’m going to like it, too, walls or no walls. Although he might be right that they’re good for focus.
“Thank you,” I whisper, leaning up for a kiss.
He takes the hint, bending toward me, but when our lips connect, his wings flare out, knocking into one of my piles of boxes and sending the topmost one toppling to the ground.
“Oh, shit,” he hisses, turning away from me way too soon. I pout, because I’d be more than happy to ignore the mess for a while, but he’s already on his hands and knees, wings tucked in tight, so he can pick up my stuff.
It’s sketchpads, but I feel like there’s something special about this box, but I can’t quite put my finger on it…
“What’s this?” he asks, all the breath sucked out of my lungs when he holds up my rose vibrator, a devilish smile on his face.
Oh, fuck. I tossed it in the sketch book bucket. It had seemed like the best idea at the time; I didn’t want it in my room where he could find it, and bringing it into Georgia’s room felt wrong. This felt out of the way and discrete.
Well. So much for that.
“You know exactly what that is,” I say flatly, because it’s pretty damn obvious, even if his enjoyment wasn’t written all over his face.
“Yeah,” he agrees, looking at it. “I do. And now I’m picturing you using it.”
“Can I put that away?” I ask, still looking at it. It looks so small in his giant hands, and I have the urge to snatch it away and hide it again.
“If you want. Or…” He trails off.
“Or?”
“Or I could use it on you until you come all over me. You’re so fucking pretty when you come, baby.” His eyes are hungry as he latches onto me, trailing over my body.
“You’ve made me come plenty of times,” I return, demurring. “We don’t need my toy.”
He stands upright in one fluid motion, stepping closer to me. His wings barely avoid knocking over another box. “Toys are teammates, wife,” he says, eyes boring into me. “And I want to see how good it makes you feel.”
I glance down at the vibrator. I really like that thing. It can definitely make me come. So can Finn, but this…
“Do you want to watch?” I ask, and his wings flare out again as his eyes get darker.
My husband should be an intimidating man, but not to me. It doesn’t matter how big he is, how those wings make him even bigger, how when he smiles I can see the sharpness of his teeth. All I see is the way he looks at me, like he’s starving for me.
“Of course I fucking want that,” he breathes. He looks around the room, and I can see the gears turning in his head as he makes a plan. “But not here, maybe. Worried I’ll knock your stuff over.”
I’m an inch from telling him that I’m willing to risk it when he scoops me up and carries me out of the room, playfully slinging me over his shoulder.
“Finn!”
“What?” he asks, jostling me lightly. “We weren’t moving fast enough. I’m speeding things along.” He carries me into my—our?—bedroom and deposits me on the bed. “I want to watch, wife. Want to see you make yourself feel good. And then I want to help.”
I raise an eyebrow, propping myself up against the pillows. “You’re going to sit back and watch?”
He settles in the armchair I keep in the corner, mostly for throwing clothes on. He looks ridiculously large on it, and I make a mental note to start figuring out what furniture works for him and what doesn’t. “You offered.”
I did, dammit. And even faced with the reality of it, I don’t want to stop. The look in his eyes makes me drip down my thighs, and I want my toy.
Speaking of, he’s still holding it. I push myself up so I can stand. When he opens his mouth, no doubt to protest, I remind him, “I need the toy to get started,” and then pluck it out of his lax fingers.
I deposit it on the bedside table, then start tugging my clothes off. “Fuck, baby, look at you,” he croons, eyes rapt as more and more of my skin is revealed.
That toy is waterproof, and using it in the shower is the only time I’ve masturbated fully naked in memory. Everything else was always quick, furtive—a stolen moment I felt bad about taking. Lying down completely naked on the sheets feels disgustingly decadent, and I want more.
“That toy has a tongue,” Finn says. “And I know you like my tongue between your thighs. Is it going to make you come as hard as I did, baby?”
I shiver. I do love his tongue between my thighs. “You said toys are teammates, Finn. That sounds to me like you’re setting up a competition.”
“Just want to know all the tools at my disposal,” he shoots back. “I like making my wife come. I want to make sure I do it often.”
This man. How does someone go from barely talking to me to practically making me come with words alone?
I spread my thighs and reach for the toy, palming it to find the power switch. It buzzes to life, the little tongue moving, and I make sure I watch Finn as I bring it to my cunt.
He’s staring like he’s never seen anything like this before, and I bite my lip as I adjust the angle. There. It’s licking my clit, teasing me, sending me spiraling higher, and my eyes slip closed.
“No.”
My eyes shoot back open to see that Finn has leaned forward. He hasn’t left the chair, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he sprung up any second. “Watch me, wife. Let that pretty toy make you come, and watch me.”
“Maybe I’d watch you if you did something interesting,” I shoot back, impressed that I managed to put that sentence together with the way I feel.
He leans back. “Oh? I’m not interesting enough for you?”
“Take your cock out, Finn,” I tell him, feeling irrepressibly bold.
“This was supposed to be about you.”
“Watching you stroke your cock will make me very happy. That is for me.”
“Well, if it’ll make my wife happy,” he muses, already unbuttoning his pants. He pulls his cock out, and I salivate looking at it. Fuck. He’s so big. It’s obvious he would be, looking at the size of the rest of him, but he genuinely is huge.
I like how he feels when he’s inside me.
I like it a lot. Apparently there’s something about being stuffed fuller than I ever thought possible that does it for me.
At first I worried I wouldn’t be able to take it, but now I’m thirsty for more, practically panting after him as he fists that cock.
I want him to split me open on that thing again.
I want to feel like I’m going to fucking die and the only cure is him stuffing me full.
He strokes himself and I bite my lip, moving the rose toy off of my clit for a moment. I’m so close, but I don’t want this to be over so soon. I want to be able to watch him. I want him to come with me.
Only, when I put the vibrator back on my clit, the cliff I was about to fall over feels a million miles away. I was so close, but now as I watch Finn stroke himself while he watches me, I can’t get there again. Fuck.
Is he close? Is he waiting for me? He seems like the kind of guy who would, and I’m here holding him up. And it’s basically dinner time, so he probably wants to come and get some food, considering he worked all day, and—
“Baby? Tell me what’s in that pretty head of yours,” Finn murmurs, cutting right through my thoughts.
“My brain, Finn,” I retort, frowning as I try to get where I need to be.
“And what’s going on in that brain, hm?” He stands up this time, walking right over to the edge of the bed.
This gives me an even better look at his cock.
It’s the same stony-gray as the rest of him, darker at the tip, and he’s leaking pre-come like a faucet right now.
He thumbs the head, swiping a bead of pre-come down the shaft. He’s close. He’s so damn close.
And I’m… not.
I must make a noise of frustration, because Finn bends down to kneel beside the bed, cooing, “Need some help, baby?”
I turn partly away from him. “You don’t have to wait for me. Just… get yourself off, I guess.”
Finn’s huge hand lands on my hip, turning me back toward him. And then he’s gently taking the toy from me, holding it to my pussy with one hand while he strokes my stomach with the other. “Finn…” I don’t know if I want more or if I want him to look away.