Page 31 of The Reckless Rookie

“Slower.”

His jaw works once, and then he tries again. Better.

My eyes close. “Like that.”

His forehead drops against my shoulder. “You saying that is making slow significantly more difficult.”

“Sounds personal.”

“It is absolutely your problem.”

His fingers move again, and I lose interest in winning the argument. Pleasure gathers slowly; every stroke makes me want the next one before it comes. My thighs tighten around him. My breathing turns uneven.

Finn loses the rhythm once, and I catch his wrist. “Back.”

“Right.” He adjusts, finds it.

And that matters. He doesn’t have to know. He has to listen.

His mouth closes over my breast again, and my hips lift. His name leaves me before I decide to give it to him, and he groans.

“Again.”

“No.”

“Catalina.”

“Work for it.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.”

I laugh, and then he does exactly what worked before, and the laugh breaks apart. My fingers twist into the sheet. Pressure coils tighter.

“Finn.” He looks up. “Stay there.”

“I’m not moving.” His hand moves again, and I come hard enough to lose the room for a few seconds. My back lifts from the mattress, my thighs tighten around him, and I grab his shoulder and hold on while everything inside me contracts and releases.

Finn stays exactly where I told him. When I finally open my eyes, he is staring at me.

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Your face did.”

“My face is having a difficult night.”

I laugh, still trying to breathe, and then I notice the tension running through him.

“You’re miserable.”

“I’m twenty-three and naked in your bed. I would not choose miserable.”

I reach toward the nightstand. The condom has been in the drawer for months because I am an adult woman with a sex life, even if lately it has been mostly theoretical.

Finn watches the packet land between us, then looks at me. “Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything.”