Still kissing me, his clever hands followed the trail they’d taken with my skirt, though this time it was skin on skin. Up, then down, each time moving a little further from my hips around to my inner thighs.
We broke the kiss, gasping for air, but I couldn’t stay away for long. I kissed down to his jaw, then along the strong column of his neck. Before this, kissing him had involved rules—the first time with the no touching below the neck rule, but even after that, there had been unspoken rules about where it was okay to touch, or how turned on we were allowed to make the other when we weren’t going to follow through. But it seemed all rules were now null and void. I could touch him where I wanted. And I wanted to touch him everywhere.
My tongue traced a path along the lightly stubbled edge of his jaw, then I found the soft skin below it and I bit gently. A shudder racked his body, so I did it again, this time holding the bite and sucking a little. His fingers dug into my ass, grinding me against him, and he hissed my name out between his teeth.
Then one hand found the edge of my underpants, flirting with the elastic until a finger dove inside, feeling the naked skin of my hip, then winding around the front until…pay dirt. His fingers slid against me and I almost came.
A whimper escaped my throat, and at first I didn’t recognize it was me making the sound. His fingers moved deeper, further, moving inside me then out in a rhythm that held me captive, and I was saying things without thought, saying his name, asking him not to stop, and he was talking back to me, but I barely understood his words.
Not even sure I hadn’t ripped any, I fumbled with the buttons on his shirt until it was open. I pushed it over his shoulders so I could kiss his bare skin, smell his scent, as he drove me out of my mind with only a hand. His movements became faster, and he whispered, “Need you like crazy,” in my ear. I bit down hard on his shoulder when everything inside me drew in deliciously tight then exploded out, taking every last drop of energy in my body, leaving me limp and clinging to Finn for support.
He tilted my chin up and kissed me with smiling lips. “That was sexy as hell.”
He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a little square packet, then shucked the jeans down to his ankles. I wanted to help but my fingers still felt too thick and slow. Once his underwear was gone, however, I stayed his hands. He wanted to roll the condom on. I wanted to feel him first.
He’d been filling my fantasies and dreams since the very first night we’d kissed, and I had to know the shape of him, feel the weight of him. Know everything about him. I encircled his erection, my palm rubbing the softness of the skin that surrounded the hardness, wishing I could see better in the dim light.
Moving my hand away, he sheathed himself, toed off his shoes, and stepped out of the jeans that had pooled at his feet. He brought my leg up to wrap around his waist again, then the other one, and held my hips in his hands. I met his gaze and we both paused, breathing heavily.
There was something shimmering in this moment—it was the point of no return. No way were we stopping, but it was as if we each needed to acknowledge the line in the sand we were crossing. A slow smile spread across his face, and we began to move. I arched my back against the wall, giving myself purchase as he lowered my hips a couple of inches then sank into me.
I felt myself stretching to accommodate him. The sublime sensation of the empty places inside me being filled, and that it was Finn—Finn—doing this, made the rest of my body sing as well.
Finn’s gaze landed on a short bookcase to my left. It was higher than his desk, in fact, it was the perfect height. I nodded. Sweeping one arm out, he cleared the top of magazines and photocopied pages, then, even as those papers still fluttered to the floor, he moved me across to sit on the perch.
With my arms and legs now freed of the job of holding on, I returned to exploring the expanse of skin available to me. My ankles moved over the taut muscles at the back of his thighs, my hands roamed his shoulders and arms, all while the rhythm of our bodies joining, thrusting together, continued, taking me higher, higher, to impossible heights.
I’d never imagined sex with Finn would be like this. I’d thought about it a lot recently, and it was always good, but…sweet, contained. This, however, was raw and hungry, wild and glorious.
With the soft thump, thump of the bookcase hitting the wall as the soundtrack, he changed the angle and hit something amazing, and I dug my fingernails into his back. Being a quick study, he did it again, and this time all my internal muscles clenched tight. He stopped, his eyes closing, his breath coming in pants.
“Something wrong?” I asked, after swallowing to get my voice to work.
First one of his eyes opened, then the other, and the heat in them was bordering on combustible. “Never been more right in my life.” He started to move again, slowly, building to the same pace as before. “So right, it’s almost too much.”
“Know what you mean.” I’d thought I might die earlier, but now I was seriously at risk of dissolving into him, of losing myself, of being overwhelmed by off-the-scale sex.
His eyes didn’t close again, they stayed locked on mine. It was as if we were in his office, but not there, instead floating together in a place where time and space didn’t exist, where there was only feeling what he was doing to my body, what I was doing to his.
I was on the edge, needing more, unable to take more, desperate for more. His hand snaked down to where we were joined, gliding over already sensitive skin, and pushed me right off the precipice into a dizzying freefall. Stars burst to life behind my eyelids. My body was weightless, and I never wanted to land.
Finn tucked his face into the spot where my neck met my shoulder and let out a muffled roar. Shudders racked his body, before his weight slumped against me, pinning me against the wall. The best place in the world to be.
There was a crack, and the bookshelf below me gave a little, then another crack and it gave way completely. As we fell, Finn managed to pull me tight to him and roll backward, so I landed on him in the middle of the floor, instead of in the shards of cheap shelving.
We sat up, surrounded by the magazines and papers he’d flung to the floor earlier, staring at the mess of books and plywood, then looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“You know,” he said when he found his breath, “no one’s ever rocked my world enough to break furniture before.”
I grinned. “What can I say? I’m explosive in bed. Or,” I glanced around, “in an office.”
The amusement left his gaze, and he leaned in to lightly kiss my lips. “Abso-fucking-lutely you are.”
“If we hadn’t just had sex, I’d totally do you for saying that.”
He lay back on the wooden floor, pulling me to him with one arm and throwing the other out to the side. “Whatever happens, we’ll always have bookshelf-splosion night.”
My smile faded as I realized how true that was—we’d always have this night. But whatever more we had, or didn’t have, was much less certain.
I drew in a breath, pushed the thought away, and snuggled into Finn’s side, determined not to lose a moment of the now to worry. Instead I’d make the most of what I had in front of me. Or more precisely, beside me.
Chapter Eleven
Scarlett
The next day I was sitting on the living room floor with Amelia, painting Harvey’s nails. It had been Amelia’s suggestion, and Harvey seemed to have no problem with it. I suspected he’d put up with pretty much anything if it meant he was allowed inside.
My parents were on the sofa, reading the paper, and Finn had been gone for almost two hours, so was probably due back soon. Most Sundays he liked to go for a long bike ride—he said it worked out the kinks from being hunched over his desk all week—and he’d missed a couple since Amelia had come home. Today, however, he’d been up early and out the door. Of course, it had occurred to me that perhaps he was feeling awkward about seeing me…