38. Chapter 37
Chapter 37
Finnley
“Get back on your knees.” I almost don’t recognize his voice when he says it—low and rough—but I don’t hesitate when his palm connects with my shoulder, shoving me down. Once I’m there, I turn my eyes to him and wait, anticipation ricocheting through my entire body.
His gaze is dark, his chest rising and falling quickly. His body is wound tight, every muscle looks poised to take what he wants, but he hesitates. I’m not sure whether he’s questioning himself or debating stopping, but I am so turned on that I swear if he does stop, I will punch him right in the junk.
My core is throbbing, and I don’t think I have ever been this wet; this turned on. I don’t know where the fumbling, awkward man from a few minutes ago went, but he can stay the fuck gone because in his place is someone commanding, possessive, and sexier than ever. He’s still Hudson, but something in his gaze and the set of his jaw is different, and I am fucking here for it.
His voice is all gravel and need when he finally speaks. “Such a good fucking girl waiting on your knees for my cock, aren’t you? ”
Oh fuck.
I squeeze my thighs together and pull in a labored breath, nodding. “Yes.”
His fingers thread roughly into my hair, and he grips the base of his cock in the other hand. My pulse takes off at a gallop and my stomach flips. I try to push closer, desperate for everything he’s offering with a need that is completely consuming. I sigh when he barely touches the tip to my lips. He runs the head over them, using it to pull down my bottom lip. He taps his cock against it with an appreciative hum.
His eyes are hooded and dark, and his grip is tight in my hair, just this side of painful. “How’s your gag reflex, Finnley?”
“Oh, my God,” I moan, every nerve ending in my body sparking to life.
“Stick out your tongue.” I do, and when he rests the tip of his cock on it, a low, primal sound vibrates from his throat. Then, he lifts his chin at me, dark hair falling over his forehead. “Use that tongue, pretty girl. Show me how bad you want it.”
I love him from this angle—towering over me, dominant and commanding. It’s nothing like the sweet and easygoing man I’ve known half my life.
With my eyes locked on his, I tease the underside of the head of his cock with the tip of my tongue, licking and then sucking lightly. Then, I run it up the slit, before circling the swollen crown and pulling it into my mouth. I swirl my tongue around it twice, then suck him deeper.
He lets out a rough breath. “I knew your mouth would be fucking heaven.” He pants. “Fuck.”
I moan, loving how full my mouth is; how wide I have to open just to fit half of him inside. I want to reach for my clit so badly, but I want this to be about him. I pull off him a bit, focusing on his head, and tease the underside of it again. Judging by the change in his breathing, I can tell it’s a particularly sensitive spot .
He grunts softly when I take him back into my mouth. “You sure about this?”
I slide him out of my mouth just long enough to nod and say, “I’m sure,” before pulling him back in.
He groans, his eyes fluttering closed, and then opening again as he watches me. He drags in a breath and his jaw ticks before he speaks again. “Then I’m gonna fuck this pretty mouth now, Finnley,” he says through gritted teeth. “I don’t think I have it in me to be gentle.” He runs his thumb over my jaw, concern and barely restrained need painted over his features. “Tap my thigh if it’s too much, yeah?”
Keeping my eyes on his, I nod, with his cock stuffed in my mouth. He pushes in a bit deeper, then gives me a couple of seconds to adjust to his size in my mouth before his hips snap forward. He hits the back of my throat, and I gag. Hard.
“Fuck, yes.” He pants, hand tightening in my hair, with dark eyes, jaw set, and hips snapping forward again. “Gag on it.”
The salty tang of his precum explodes in my mouth and my eyes tear up. He thrusts again and I gag a second time. Clamping my thighs together, I’m writhing on the floor, searching for friction on my aching clit as I take him in further.
His thrusts are steady and deep, his hand in my hair keeping me pinned where he wants me. I relax my jaw and let him move freely in and out of my mouth, adding just a bit of suction on the out-stroke. It should feel shameful, the way he’s using my mouth like it’s just a hole for his pleasure alone, but I’ve never felt so powerful. He’s fucking into me with abandon, and yet, I feel completely in control of this sexy, beautiful man.
“You like sucking my cock like a good, little slut, pretty girl?” He tilts his head and bites down on his lip, hips snapping forward again with a low grunt. “Hmm?”
I hum in affirmation and his grip on my hair tightens .
His eyes are hooded and filled with so much lust, it makes my skin tingle. “Can you take me deeper?”
I nod my head in his grasp, eager to please him. He’s not being gentle, but I love it. It’s animalistic and filthy and makes me feel so sexy. Another thrust snaps his hips forward. My body is on fire when I gag around him again. His words are like a match, igniting something raw and primal in my veins.
I can’t get him deep enough. So, I swallow, trying to relax my throat so he can thrust deeper. I have never considered myself an expert on blow jobs, but the sexy sounds he makes have me wanting to give him the best head of his life.
“This tight, little throat was made for me,” he grinds out, and I whimper around his length again when he thrusts deeper still.
Saliva tracks down my chin. It’s filthy and I wish I could see us, him towering over me, my mouth full of him.
He pushes forward, using his hand in my hair for leverage. It causes me to gag again and a tear runs down my cheek, while he holds me still. His breathing is rough and fast when he says, “I love the sound of you choking on my cock. Such a good girl, letting me use your pretty mouth. Fuck. ”
I moan at his praise and almost whimper when he lets up on my hair. I hum around him, bringing the length of him back out. Saliva connects my lips to the tip of his cock. I love the way it looks, and the way he looks as he watches it drip onto my thigh.
But he doesn’t give me more than a second or two before he’s pushing back in. His thrusts becoming jerky, sloppy. I can feel him hardening further in my mouth and I know if he doesn’t stop, he’ll be coming down my throat in seconds. I want to be the one who makes him fall apart. I’m desperate for it.
“Get up, pretty girl.” He pulls me off his cock and up by my arm .
My legs tingle from kneeling for so long. So, I brace a hand on his chest and wipe my mouth with the back of the other as I stare up at him, waiting for his next move. My breathing is shallow and my pussy throbs as his eyes search mine. I lick my lips, which feel swollen and stretched out, and his eyes track the movement.
Strong hands yank me forward, until I’m flush against him. I have a split second to process how fucking delicious the hard planes of his body feel against me before he slams his lips against mine. A long groan rips from his chest, and his hands bunch in my hair. Both of my hands fist in his shirt and he kisses me so deeply, I can’t tell where my mouth ends and his begins. He tastes incredible. He feels even better.
My mind screams at me that this is Hudson—my best friend—and that this can only end badly. But nothing has ever felt so right. Seeing him, someone usually so sweet and soft with me, lose control—giving in, taking what he wants, using me for what he wants—is one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced.
Needing to feel his skin, I grab his shirt and yank it up. He lifts his arm, helping me pull it off over his head, before his mouth is back on mine. I’ve never wanted anyone more, and even though I’ve seen him shirtless dozens of times over the years, being this close—this wrapped up in him—is a new experience altogether. He sighs when my hands find the bare skin of his chest, then I’m grasping, nails scraping over his pecs.
God, he feels so damn good.
I pinch one of his nipples, and he moans, threading his fingers back into my hair. And when my other hand finds the base of his cock, he tugs on my hair with one hand, hissing out a breath.
“You’re incredible, Finnley. Fuck, babe.” His other hand palms my ass and he squeezes as I rock my hips into him.
“Touch me, Hudson. ”
He grips my panties with one hand, forcing them to the side, and slides a finger through my slick heat. My legs almost give out and I cry out hoarsely, wrapping an arm around his neck when he pushes two fingers inside me.
“Ohhh, my God. Hudson, yes,” I breathe out against his jaw and rock my hips in time with the thrusts of his fingers. He tweaks a nipple through my shirt and my hips buck, my fingers tightening on his cock.
“This is probably a really bad fucking idea,” he says, with his lips on my forehead, his breath further warming my already scorching skin.
“Probably,” I mumble breathlessly, but I can’t find it in me to care.
“I don’t know how I can be such good friends with someone who has such shit judgment.” He half laughs, dropping his eyes to watch as his fingers pump in and out of me.
“Your hand between my legs helps.” I cry out when he hits that perfect spot deep inside me.
“Fuck, Finn,” he breathes out. “Fuck. Your pussy is drenched and so fucking tight.” His thumb makes one tortuously slow circle over my clit, and I moan against his stubbled chin. “Tell me to stop,” he rasps.
“I can’t.” I pant, my eyes squeezed shut, head falling back. “I don’t want to.”
I force my eyes back open when he doesn’t say anything. Time seems to stand still, while he grits his teeth, his fingers still working in and out of me, building me up to the crescendo I know is coming. I need to feel his cock. I want to feel him from the inside out.
I look up into his eyes, his fingers still moving inside me. “Please, Hudson. I need more.”
Seconds tick by as he continues fucking me with his fingers. His eyes search mine, and the only sound in the room are the wet, sloppy sound of my arousal around his fingers. I’m panting and his pupils are blown wide with desire.
“Fuck it,” he grits out. “Turn around. ”
I whimper when his fingers slide from me to turn me by the shoulders, so I’m facing the pantry door. He sucks in a breath when he sees my ass in the tiny, cheeky purple lace panties I’m wearing. Then, his hands are on me, yanking the lace down my hips, before roughly nudging my legs open wider with his knee.
“I’m gonna ruin this perfect, little cunt too,” he grunts, spreading me even wider to get a good look at my pussy from behind.
Anticipation heightening every sense, I moan out a reply, “Yes. Oh, God, yes. Fuck me, please .”
He lines up and thrusts into me in one stroke, his chest dragging along my back.
“Fuck!” I cry out, my hands hitting the pantry door in front of me. So much for being quiet. The feeling of him inside me is immaculate. It’s like too much oxygen; it makes my head spin and my legs shake.
He pounds up into me, his cock creating a delicious burn and stretch that quickly fades into sheer, euphoric pleasure. He thrusts again, fingers digging into my hips. With my hands braced on the door, I turn my head to the side, cheek flush with the wood, and give over to the sensations of this man driving my body higher.
There are no words. Just grunts, pants, whimpers, and groans from both of us as he relentlessly fucks me against the door. He presses his mouth to mine—teeth clashing, and lips and hands roaming—as our eyes meet over my shoulder.
“I wanna feel you come all over my cock. Can you do that for me?” His fingers find my clit, and his other hand tweaks a nipple as he drives into me over and over.
My breath is ragged in my chest. “Yes,” I pant. “God, don’t stop. Harder.” This is what I’ve been waiting for. This is how I always want to feel—this fierce passion, no-holds-barred, just two people taking what they need from one another. Hudson and I might not be a couple, but we are magic together.
“Fucking come for me, Finnley,” he grunts in response. He thrusts inside me so hard that my hips collide with the door in front of me and my toes come up off the floor. “Fuuuck,” he moans, and it goes straight to my clit. “Feels so good. Fuck, pretty girl. This cunt was made to take my cock.”
The echo of his words exploding in my brain shoves me full force into the most powerful orgasm of my life. My mouth opens on a silent scream, and my bottom lip drags across the wood door.
“That’s it. Come for me,” he grinds out. “I can feel you; how are you so tight?” His voice is strained and filled with need, all panted breaths and groans.
My head is light, my vision blurred. It’s like he’s fucked the sense right out of me. Through it all, I can feel he’s close. I moan, riding wave after wave of my climax, unable to think, speak, or move.
A moment later, he comes on a guttural roar. I can feel him pulsing inside me, and I know without a doubt, I am absolutely ruined for Hudson’s cock. It’s never been like this before—this explosive, this wild.
The only sounds in the kitchen are our ragged breaths as he slips out of me. I feel the loss immediately and squeeze my legs together. He grips my hip and squeezes, blowing out a long breath.
I stay where I am for a minute, pressed against the door. I’m still feeling the aftershocks of my orgasm and what is arguably the most erotic experience of my life.
“Holy shit. That was intense.” I let out a shaky breath when I’m finally able to open my eyes and glance over my shoulder.
He’s leaned back against the counter, gripping the edge with one hand, and runs the other through his hair. His eyes roam over my half-naked body. His expression is hard to read… Nervous, maybe?
I turn around fully and pull up my panties, which were still around my knees. He’s already tucked himself back into his boxers, but his jeans are still open.
I step closer to him, pressing a hand to his bare chest. “Huddy, you ok?”
He looks around, then drags a hand over his mouth.
“Say something.” A nervous chuckle breaks free from my lips, and I bite the inside of my cheek. Hudson is never at a loss for words.
He blows out another breath, shaking his head. “I’m sorry.”
Oh, shit. Oh, fuck.
“You’re sorry,” I whisper. It isn’t a question. He’s freaking out. He regrets it. Oh, God.
“No…shit.” He shakes his head as if to clear it. “That’s not what I meant.”
I force my voice to come out steady. “Ok. What did you mean?”
He spaces out again, before his eyes focus on me a couple of seconds later. “Shit, sorry.”
“Will you stop apologizing? Just talk to me,” I say.
He huffs a breath out from his nose and runs a hand through his hair. His eyes finally meet mine. He looks guilty as hell. “I didn’t even take you to bed.”
Relief floods me and a grin creeps across my face. “I really didn’t want to wait. And that was…”
“Incredible,” we both say at once.
We stare at each other for a couple beats of silence, then crack matching smiles like lunatics.
Then, I grimace. “Can you…?” I point at the paper towels behind him. “I kind of have cum dripping down my leg.”
“Oh, shit. Yeah.” He nods quickly, pushing off the counter to turn. “Let me just—" He fumbles around, knocks the dish soap over, rights it, and then finally grabs some paper towels. Turning back, he hands them to me. “Here you go.”
I make a quick swipe at my inner thigh, but I’m not about to wad these bitches up and jam them into my underwear. So, I crumple them in my fist and hope the flimsy fabric of my panties holds back the rest until I can get to the bathroom.
When I look back up at him, he seems all at once to realize something as his face goes white. “Y–you’re on something, right?”
I nod and watch him. He’s spiraling. A small part of me is sad that the possibility of me getting pregnant seems to terrify him. No, that’s stupid. It would be horrible. A disaster. I can’t have my best friend's baby. What the fuck am I thinking?
“Yes. Relax, Hudson.”
He swallows hard. “Yeah. No, I’m relaxed.” He gulps in air, tugging on his hair with a fist, before raising his eyes to mine. “I just… This is kind of...”
“What?” I’m trying like hell to keep my face impassive, but I can’t help the crushing weight that has seemed to settle on my chest.
Please, don’t say awkward.
“Weird.”
Oh, God. Weird is worse than awkward. Put on a brave face, Finnley.
It takes a beat to force my shoulders up and down, but I shrug with nonchalance that I absolutely do not feel. I’ve just fucked my best friend—his cum is literally leaking out of me as we speak—and he thinks it’s weird . But even as I think about it, I’m surprised to find the words feel true.
“It is a little weird, isn’t it?”
He pulls on the back of his neck, then glances up at me. “So, what now?”
What do you say when you just had the best sex of your life with someone you’ve known half your life and are married to, but aren’t actually in a relationship with? Do we high-five? Say thanks? Say, I liked your cock and your dirty mouth. Nice job, champ !
“Go again?” I answer lightly, hoping it will help with whatever he’s feeling and will calm the nerves taking flight in my stomach.