Page 15 of Unsteady: How to Fail at Flirting
I press my lips lightly against the dip between his collarbones. “Too hot to get back to work?”
With a growl, Finn braces the back of my neck, fisting my hair. He doesn’t kiss me again, not yet. He just stares at me, jaw clenching. I can’t tell if he’s angry or horny or both. Both is good. Both is wonderful.
“It’s the maypole dance. It does something to people. It makes them crazy,” I inform him, teasing him with a coquettish smile. “Lot of people around here with birthdays exactly nine months from May Day.”
“That is exactly my kind of crazy,” he says.
“Mine, too.”
He scrambles to help me tug off the oversized long-sleeve T-shirt I’m wearing. He smiles at the sports bra I wear underneath.
“So sexy. I know. But before you say anything, I thought I was preparing for strictly work today.”
“Oh, I’m gonna make you work,” Finn says.
I gasp, unable to respond to that as he angles his face down and runs his lips over the tender skin at the top of one of my breasts. The light touch and the rasp of his slight whiskers is too delicious. I want more, I want it all right now, but I let him do what he wants.
I recall thinking, when we first met three weeks ago, that Finn gives off the energy of a man who knows what he wants and he’ll take control when it comes to sex. I have desperately wanted to explore that these last three weeks.
I simply let my head loll back as he drags his slack mouth over my skin, one breast then the other, while his thumb breaches the bottom edge of my sports bra.
My nipples are so fucking hard I want to scream for him to be licking them already.
Finally, he hooks one finger into the pull at the front of my bra and tugs. The zipper of my sports bra opens, and both breasts spill out.
He groans something unintelligible as he looks at them for a long, lingering moment, his brows knit together as if studying an enigma.
My breath is ragged. My breasts heave, waiting.
Finn mumbles, “fucking beautiful,” as he cups one and tastes the other. Pleasure skitters through my veins. He purses his lips over one nipple and sucks softly, pulling an embarrassing, mewling sound out of my throat.
Finn switches then, feeding my other nipple into his mouth, and caressing the opposite with one persistent thumb. My already-hard buds go tight and achy at his teasing fingers and worshiping mouth. His tongue licks, his teeth softly scrape, and my head empties of all thought.
Except one: someone could walk in here at any minute. Curious shoppers. Nosy townsfolk. City inspectors demanding to see building permits. Who knows?
And if they did? It would be their own fault.
Finn makes me forget all that as he licks and sucks to the point of making the ache reach its breaking point. How…how is it that I can feel it in my pussy when he licks just like that?
Seemingly acting on its own, my thigh tries and fails to hook around his leg. I don’t have balance, but my body just wants to grind on him if he’s going to keep it up with the titty action.
The next thing I know, he’s got me around a corner, backed against one of the gutted walls, in a nook between the barestuds. Perfect. Out of view of the door to the street. And I’ve got leverage now as I lean against the wall. But my shock, he pushes my leg back down and says,
“Arms up.”
I do as he says.
Finn’s caress is everything. I’m far from a speechless girl. I’m not a girl who swoons at the slightest touch of a man. I pride myself on being able to keep my armor up. But he’s working me up into a frenzy, and he knows it.
I don’t want to beg, but he’s making me nuts.
I can’t keep going like this.
“Finn…”
He told me to keep my arms up, but this need…it’s too much. I reach down and unbutton my jeans. Slipping one hand inside the waistband of my panties, I anticipate my release coming quickly. A small orgasm, that’s all I need.
Finn pulls away, his look severe.
