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“That,” he says, voice rough against my skin. “That’s the sound I wanted.”
“Fionn.”
“Again.”
He licks faster and drives two fingers inside me, curling them hard.
“God, Fionn, that feels so good,” I whisper-moan.
When my hips lift, he presses a hand to my pelvis and pushes down.
“I knew you’d taste this fucking good,” he says, pushing deeper, his voice thick now. “But I think you’d taste better tied up.”
I drag in a breath that barely works. “What?”
He adds another finger, slow enough to make me feel every inch, and curls them while his mouth returns to me.
The pressure turns everything white-hot under my skin. My back bows, and my nails claw at his shoulders.
Every lick makes me hotter, every slow thrust of his fingers makes me wetter, and every rough grunt of approval he gives against my pussy travels straight up my spine.
“I want to fuck you like this,” he says, finger fucking me with slow, confident certainty. “Flat on your ass in my father’s house, watching the heat spread through your body when I put my cock inside you.”
His thumb strokes over my thigh, almost gentle, while his fingers curl deeper.
“But I want to see you fall apart for me, little wild thing.”
I can’t even breathe properly to respond.
“And most of all,” he says, lowering his mouth back to me, “I want you so close you can’t tell whether you’re begging me to stop or begging me to let you come.”
He sucks my clit and as I rise, on the edge of a release, my body already starting to take it, he pulls away.
The sudden loss of contact is brutal.
I whimper, reaching for him, but his hand catches my wrist and holds it down.
“No.”
My chest heaves. “Fuck ya, Fionn. I really hate ya for doing this to me.”
“No, you don’t,” he says, and I hear the smile in his voice even though I can’t see it. “You hate that you crave it, and you hate that I stopped.”
He shifts above me, his heat moving higher through the visor until his breath drags over my cheek.
“Tell me you want me.”
I turn my head, and the roughness of his jaw scrapes against my skin. I’m furious, soaked, and aching so badly I could scream.
He’s engaged to my best friend, and I would let him fuck me on this rug in front of a window. Both of those things are true at once, and only one of them is winning.
“Say it,” he demands. “Admit you want my dick again.”
His mouth brushes mine, barely there, and my whole body jerks.
“Because I want you to have it.”
“I want it,” I whisper. “As badly as you want to put it inside me.”
