The Magic of I Do (Faerie 2)

“Finn,” she whispered, her voice too broken to respond. “Finn,” she chanted. “Finn, Finn, Finn,” and then she broke. He leaned close to her face, taking in her breaths as though they were his own. Her inhale was his exhale, and her exhale was his inhale. They shared the same air, the same space, the same body. She squeezed his fingers in a viselike grip as she broke around him. Her breasts bounced in the water as she slowed, and her head came back to rest against the lip of the tub once more. Her body was lax and sated, and she was more relaxed than he’d ever seen her.

“Goodness,” she breathed.

Then she curled into herself, and he wanted to wrap around her. “I missed you,” he said softly. He had. He’d missed her like crazy. Holding her at night was nice, but it wasn’t the same as talking to her. Not the same as sharing his life with her.

***

Claire looked up at him from the bath, not sure what to say to him. “Thank you” seemed inadequate. “I missed you too,” she finally said.

“When you have the wherewithal to stand up, I want to wash up really quickly.” He patted her knee and started to take his clothes off.

He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. Then he tugged his boots off and shucked his trousers, letting them fall to the floor as he stepped out of them.

His manhood was rigid and arched up toward his belly, purple at the tip. She reached out a hand to touch him. But he dodged her. “Do you need some help getting out?” he asked as he offered her a hand. She took it, supported fully by his firm grip and bolstered by the challenge in his eyes. She was naked. And he liked the way she looked naked, if his staff was any indication. She stepped out of the tub and let him wrap her in a towel. He stepped into the tub and took up the sponge. He arched a brow at her when she looked at his manhood. “Something wrong?”

Claire stepped toward him and sat down on the ridge of the tub. She took the sponge from him, and took up where he’d already moved it across his shoulders. She moved across his flat stomach, and he flinched as she dragged a fingernail across the ridges of his abdomen. “Careful there,” he warned. Claire stood up and went around behind him, soaping the sponge as she went. She washed slowly across his back and shoulders, inspecting his shoulders the way he’d inspected the ridges of her spine.

Her hand slipped down his belly, and she dipped into the springy curls that made a path from his navel to his manhood. He groaned aloud when she brushed the sponge across the head of his staff. “Comeuppance is painful,” she whispered, biting back a laugh at the look on his face.

“Don’t play with me, Claire,” he warned.

“Don’t play with me, Claire,” she mocked.

Claire dropped the sponge into the water and soaped her hand, then grabbed his manhood in a fist.

“I promise I won’t just play with it,” she whispered dramatically. He chuckled as he rocked forward on his heels, arching into her hands.

“I can’t take much of that,” he warned.

“Yes, you told me,” she said with a laugh. “I just want to get you as clean as you got me.”

Claire sat on the edge of the tub and looked up at him as she stroked up and down his length. His face was harsh, his teeth pulled back from his lips.

“Claire,” he warned.

“You mentioned the other day that you were going to make me come with nothing but your mouth,” Claire reminded him.

He groaned low in his throat. She dipped her hand in the water and washed off the soap, and then slicked all the soap off him with the sponge. He was gritting his teeth by the time she was done. And she was nearly giddy inside at the way she could make him feel.

“Are these sensitive?” she asked as she hefted the weight of his balls in the palm of her hand. He hissed and jumped back, but she held tight to his manhood and wouldn’t let him move back too far. “Are they?” she asked as she rolled them in her fingertips.

“Just a little,” he breathed.

***

Claire wet her lips and blew gently on the tip of his manhood, and the slit wept with want for her. He forced himself to hold in a groan as she stuck out her pert little tongue and licked across the tip of him, tasting the seed that he’d spilled. She sat back and licked her lips. “Salty,” she said with a smile.

“Aah,” he groaned. Would she do it? Would she take him inside her mouth? He lifted his bent knuckle to his mouth and bit it hard. If he didn’t, he’d spill down the front of her. But then she opened her mouth wide and took the tip of him inside the hot cavern of her mouth and closed her lips around him, sucking gently, testing his flesh with her teeth and tongue.

“Damn, that’s lovely,” he whispered. He threaded his hands through her hair and tugged her lips back a little. She looked up a

t him questioningly, and he motioned her back forward with a tug of her hair.

“Like this?” she asked, talking around the tip of him before she closed her mouth and began to suckle, her head bobbing up and down as she worked him.

“Stop, Claire,” he warned. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to come in your mouth.” She hitched herself higher on the edge of the tub and took him even farther, until he could feel the back of her throat. And then he fell over the edge. He tugged at her hair to pull her back, but she held tightly, refusing to pop free. He had no choice, so with a grunt, he raised up onto his tiptoes and spilled his seed within her mouth. She swallowed, surprised, and looked up at him. “Let go if you don’t want it.” But her throat just worked as she took all of him.

When he was spent, he forced her mouth from around him with a gentle tug, and he reached down to wipe the corner of her mouth.