Chapter 19 – Finn – The End of the Beginning
The lounge is dim. My blood’s running hot, too fucking hot, as I watch Ariane across the room.
She’s standing there, all curves and fire, her presence like a punch to the gut.
I know this is wrong, considering her fiancé just left her but my cock’s already twitching.
I can’t want to touch her. To claim her.
With Julian out of the way, there’s nothing stopping us.
Shit, she’s got me wound so tight I can barely think straight.
I’m done waiting. I stand, my boots heavy on the hardwood, and stalk toward her, every step deliberate, my eyes locked on her like she’s the only thing in the fucking universe.
She doesn’t move, just watches me, her chest rising and falling too fast, those lips parted just enough to make me want to ruin them.
I grab her wrist, yanking her into me with a force that makes her gasp.
Fuck, that sound, soft and needy, hits me like a shot of whiskey straight to the veins.
My gaze drops to her mouth, and I’m fucking done for.
My dick’s throbbing now, straining against my jeans, and I don’t give a shit if she can tell.
Before she can say a damn word, I crash my mouth into hers, hard and messy, all teeth and tongue and raw fucking hunger.
My hand fists in her hair, tugging just enough to make her moan into my mouth, and holy shit, that sound’s gonna be the death of me.
I shove her back until her ass hits the arm of the sofa, the soft creak of leather barely registering over the pounding in my chest. I’m lost in her, in the way her lips burn against mine, in the way she kisses me back like she’s just as fucking pissed at herself for wanting this as I am.
It’s chaos, it’s greedy, it’s everything I didn’t know I needed until right fucking now.
My tongue dives deeper, claiming her, tasting the sweet heat of her mouth, and she’s unraveling, I can feel it. My hands roam her sides, gripping her curves like I own them, my fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks.
I want her to feel me tomorrow, to remember who fucking wrecked her.
She’s already trembling under my hands, and I’m so goddamn hard it hurts. I pull back just enough to look at her, my chest heaving, my eyes burning as I take her in… flushed cheeks, swollen lips, those eyes wide and wild in the dim light.
“Ariane,” I rasp, her name tearing out of me like a prayer and a curse all at once. “You’re fucking killing me.”
She shivers, her voice raw as she whispers, “Then, show me.” Her fingers clutch my shirt, desperate, yanking me closer. “Show me.”
Fuck, the way she says it, like she’s begging for it, snaps something in me.
I step in, caging her against the sofa, my body towering over hers, my scent mixing with hers. She’s intoxicating, and I’m drunk on it. My eyes rake over her, dark and feral, cataloging every inch of her body like I’m planning exactly how I’m going to tear her apart.
There’s no softness in me right now, just raw, primal need.
I want to break her, and she’s fucking asking for it.
I lift a hand, dragging my knuckles along her neck, slow and torturous, watching her shudder under the touch.
Goosebumps bloom across her skin, and I’m so fucking turned on I can barely breathe.
The lounge feels too small, too hot, the air thick with the scent of her perfume and the faint tang of coffee lingering from earlier.
My thumb traces her jaw, tipping her chin up so she’s forced to meet my eyes.
“You want this, Ariane?” I growl, my voice rough as gravel, my thumb brushing her lower lip until it parts, begging for me. It’s not a question. It’s a fucking demand.
“Yes,” she whispers, her voice cracking with need, her body trembling under my hands. “I want this. I want you… Finn.”
My cock twitches hard at the sound of my name on her lips, but I’m not done.
“I don’t think you need it hard enough.” I fist her hair and a gasp escapes her mouth. I took her by surprise. Good.
I grab palm her ass and drag her closer, a hand still fisting her hair. I know it hurts but I also know she needs this.
She gasps again, “I do.”
“Prove it, then.”
“How?” Her eyes go wide as they meet mine. I sense intrigue, which makes me feel better. She’s enjoying this as much as I am.
“Beg for it. But you’ll be slapped for each word.” I say, eyes pouring into her. Her breathing is coming out faster now. Before she can protest, I shove down her pants and panties until they’re pooling at her ankles.
“I…” she starts and before she can comprehend what’s happening, my hand meets her wet pussy and lands as hard as it can.
She gasps in a mix of horror and surprise. “Finn…”
I slap her again.
My hand is already wet from her dripping cunt, and I haven’t even touched her properly.
I repeat myself. Again. Again. And again.
It earns gasps, and tears, and silent scream from her.
Without permission, I rip her shirt off, tossing it to the floor. But I make her unhook her bra herself, letting it fall, while I stand there, fucking mesmerized by the sight of her, bare and shaking, standing there like she’s daring me to take her.
The silence between us is electric, pulsing with the promise of what’s coming. I slide a hand up her thigh, my fingers brushing her slick folds, swollen from her arousal and my relentless assault. She lets out a soft, broken whine that makes my cock throb painfully.
“So fucking wet for me already,” I mutter, almost to myself, my thumb circling her clit in slow, torturous strokes.
Her knees buckle, but I grip the back of her neck, holding her up, keeping her right where I want her. I watch her face, every gasp, every moan, as I tease her, my fingers sliding through her heat. “You’re dripping, Ariane. So fucking ready.”
She whimpers, rocking her hips into my hand, chasing the friction, and I can’t help the wicked smirk that curls my lips.
“Not yet,” I growl, my voice pure sin. “You’re gonna take everything I give you first.”
Before she can argue, I spin her around, bending her over the arm of the sofa. Her palms splay against the leather, her body flushed and trembling. I drop to my knees behind her, my hands gripping her hips, spreading her wider.
Her pussy’s exposed, swollen, and so fucking perfect I can barely think.
“You’re gonna let me do whatever I want, aren’t you?” I ask, my voice low and rough, my hands sliding up the backs of her thighs, strong and sure.
“Yes,” she whispers, her voice barely audible, her body taut with anticipation.
“Good,” I murmur, leaning in, my breath hot against her inner thigh.
I tease her with slow, featherlight kisses, my stubble scraping her sensitive skin, working higher, closer, but not giving her what she wants.
Not yet. I build the tension until she’s shaking, her body begging for my mouth.
Then, finally, I give in, my tongue sliding over her pussy with a slow, deliberate pressure that makes her gasp.
Her hands fist against the sofa, and I’m fucking addicted to the way she responds, her hips jerking back to meet me, needing more.
“Oh, God,” she cries out, and I’m relentless, my tongue and fingers moving in perfect sync, building her higher, tighter, until she’s a trembling mess.
“You like that, don’t you?” I murmur against her, the vibration of my voice making her clench.
I slide a finger inside her, slow and deliberate, feeling her tighten around me.
My eyes flick up, watching her body shake, catching every desperate cry that slips from her lips.
“I want to feel you come on my tongue, Ariane,” I growl, my voice thick with hunger. “Show me how much you love this.”
Her cries get louder, her hips grinding against me as I work her, my tongue relentless against her clit, my fingers stroking in and out with a rhythm that’s got her teetering on the edge.
The pleasure’s building fast, wild and out of control, and I can feel her getting closer, her body tensing, her breaths coming in short, desperate gasps.
I’m fucking lost in her, in the taste of her, the sound of her, the way she’s falling apart under me.
And then, finally, she shatters, her body convulsing as she comes undone, and I’m right there, drinking in every fucking second of it.
Her body’s shaking under me, her pussy clenching so fucking tight around my fingers it’s a goddamn miracle I don’t lose it right there.
Ariane’s coming hard, her orgasm hitting like a fucking tsunami, her ragged cries echoing in the lounge, bouncing off the walls like a symphony of pure, raw need.
Her hands claw at the leather sofa and the surface makes a protesting sound, desperate for something to hold onto, and I can feel her soaking my mouth, her thighs trembling so bad I’m the only thing keeping her upright.
Fuck, she’s a mess, and I’m the one who made her this way. She is my mess now, to do with whatever I fucking want. My beautiful little whore.
I stand, my hands gripping her waist, fingers digging into her soft skin as I pull her up against me.
Her bare back presses into my chest, and I can feel every shudder, every hitch of her breath as I hold her there, my arms like steel around her.
She’s so fucking small against me, so fragile, but I know she can take everything I’m about to give her.
“Lie the fuck down,” I growl, pushing her forward until her chest hits the sofa again, her ass up and begging for me. She should be shy, should be fucking blushing, but the way she arches into it, the way she’s trembling with thrill instead of shame, makes my blood roar.
The sound of my belt unbuckling cuts through the air, the swift zip of my jeans following, and I free my cock, heavy and aching, pressing it against the slick heat between her thighs. She gasps, a needy little sound that makes my dick twitch, and I can feel how fucking wet she is, how ready.