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He’s fumbling with his keys before we’ve reached the top of the stairs.
The door opens and slams shut behind us. His coat hits the floor, and mine follows.
His hands are in my hair, my hands are under his shirt, and we’re reaching for anything we can grab. I don’t know where this urgency has come from, but clearly, we’re both feeling it.
Finn pushes me onto the bed and stands at the foot of it, just staring at me for a second, breathing hard, his eyes dark.
“Fuck,” he mutters.
“Come here.”
“Fox.”
“Griffin, come here.”
He crawls up my body slowly, kisses my mouth, my throat, the hollow between my collarbones. His hand slides between us and inside my jeans, and I make a sound I’m not proud of.
“Fox.”
“Yeah?”
He’s above me, his hair falling into his eyes, his lips swollen. He looks at me with such focus it feels like I’ve been pinned to the mattress by something bigger than his weight.
“I want you to fuck me.”
“Fuck. Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Finn.”
“Foster, if you ask me one more time—”
He kisses me. Hard. And then gets the rest of my clothes off with the same impatience he had while driving us home. After that, it’s anyone’s guess as to who opens the bedside drawer and gets the lube. All I know is that, at some point, the cap of the lube clicks open and then Finn is knuckles-deep inside himself.
“Turn around,” I ask. He does, and the sight of Griffin Hall finger-fucking himself to get ready for me makes me forget my own name.
“Fox, I need you.” His voice is almost pained.
“How do you want me?”
He turns around again and straddles my legs. “I want to ride you.”
I have to close my eyes and take a steady breath because I rarely get to top Finn. It’s not his preference, and I love to bottom, but he occasionally reaches a point when the only thing that’ll work for him is to be fucked.
I didn’t think tonight would be one of those times, and I hate that we’re having to rush this when I want to take my time with him.
He lathers my cock with lube and places himself in position.
When he bears down on me, my body practically convulses with pleasure.
He drops his head back, and I put my hands on his trembling thighs, giving him time to adjust.
“Are you okay?” I manage.
He flips his head back up and stares at me. “Am I okay?”
“Yeah.”
