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I kneel at his feet. “I’m going to suck your cock.”

“Fuck.” He groans as I wrap my hand around the base and swipe the precum off the head. “The picture of your mouth wrapped around me is the sexiest thing ever.”

“Then let me paint that picture for you now.”

I cup his balls in one hand and run my tongue down his shaft. His fingers lace through my hair as I trace the lines of his dick. He trembles as I lick the head in slow, lazy motions with my gaze pinned to his.

Seeing his attraction to me and just how wild I make him is the biggest aphrodisiac of all time.

My pussy begs for him all over again.

“Suck it,” he says. “Take me down your throat.”

I bat my lashes, lift higher on my knees, and without breaking eye contact, I slide my mouth over him. He’s soft yet hard, smooth yet thick with veins. There’s a saltiness already on my tongue, and that turns me on even more.

“Dammit.” He flexes his hips until his cock hits the back of my throat. “You’re fucking incredible, Pop.”

I hum, licking the head, before pulling my lips over him again.

“You’re so sexy,” he says, his muscles tightening. “And don’t you dare stop to deflect that.”

I giggle before taking him into my mouth harder. Deeper. More intentionally.

It takes me a second to find a rhythm but, when I do, he widens his stance and fucks my mouth. He grips my head, urging me to take him deeper and faster. He thrusts on the rebound, meeting me move for move.

To think that I can affect a man like Finn in this way is heady and powerful in its own way.

Carnally. Viscerally. Undeniably.

He tightens, and I think he’s about to come. Instead, he steps away with a wild look in his eyes. I rock back on my heels, surprised and uncertain what’s happening. Before I can process the moment, he hauls me to my feet and deposits me on the chaise lounge facing the wall.

Oh fuck.

My pulse begins to race as I grip the back of the chair and hold on tight. I barely get my grip onto the wooden edge before he’s behind me, arm under my stomach, and slamming into me.

The chair moves with the effort, the legs sliding against the hardwood floor. I let out a yelp and the sound blends with Finn’s guttural groan.

His cock stretches my opening, and he gives me no time to acclimate. He drives into me again, then three times, and on the fourth, the chair hits the wall. He yanks my hips back and holds me in place as he pumps into me with the force of a man who has waited far too long.

That makes two of us.

I can’t think or breathe, and God forbid I try to move.

“Fuck me,” I say through my clenched teeth. “Harder.”

“You want it harder?” He drives so deep into me that I scream. “Then keep.” His cock hits the back of my pussy. “Your.” Again. “Voice.” Again. “Down.”

Shit.

“Show me you missed me,” I say, knowing I’m flirting with danger by taunting him. But it’s such an irreplaceable high to affect him like this. “Prove it.”

The sound of his dick sliding—pounding—through my soaked flesh fills the room. My palms sweat as I try to hold myself steady. My pussy begs to come again.

His hands slide around me, cupping my tits. I moan as he toys with my tight buds.

“I want to come,” I say, each word broken by his movements. “Make me come.”

“How do you want it?” His voice is deep and scratchy as if he’s barely holding himself back. “Tell me what you want.”