Chapter Twenty-Three
Roark
Finn didn’t expect me to agree, but once he understands, he’s on me with a hunger that steals my breath. I tug at the hem of his shirt and he draws it up, his mouth never leaving mine. I follow the climbing fabric, splaying my fingers over his stomach, his ribs, his pecs. Finn is thick with functional muscle. It shifts and plays under my touch and I force myself to stop kissing him so I can look at him again.
He seems to understand. He relaxes under my perusal, content to drag his gaze over my body while he waits for me to make a decision. He asked me to stay; my agreement doesn’t change the fact that he expects a reversal.
Like hell. This is my last night with him and I’ll steal every moment of it I can. Sláine’s argument lurks in the back of my mind and I’m sure tomorrow, when I’m faced with Mother’s disappointment, I’ll try to dissect how he impacted my rebellion. But I’ll have time to mull that over. I only have Finn for tonight.
He reaches for me, hooking me by the belt, and drags me closer until we’re flush. Cooler without the ley line, but still so warm against my skin. Hard everywhere. He kisses me, lips tracing the line of my jaw, my neck. He licks and nibbles his way down my chest and what little air is left in my lungs whooshes out when he falls into a graceful kneel in front of me. He undoes the belt buckle, the slacks, and when they gap open, he looks up at me with so much tenderness that something inside me breaks.
“This okay?” he asks.
I nod, afraid to speak. He smiles and slides my slacks and boxers down. We both laugh when he has to pause to take off my shoes and socks before he finishes freeing me from the rest of my clothes. I hold out a hand, ready to help him to his feet, but he kisses my hip and glances up at me with a grin before he wraps his lips around my cock.
I moan at the wet heat, the familiar, insistent mouth that destroyed my world time and again during those first short nights we spent together. He wraps an arm around the backs of my legs while his other hand moves to stroke in time with the bob of his head. I hesitate before brushing his hair back. Finn manages to bring out a tenderness in me that’s never existed with anyone else. He hums in approval at my touch and arches up greedily. It changes the angle and slides me deeper into his mouth. A lick of fire uncurls in my belly and my hips jut forward on instinct.
“Stop,” I beg, trying to pull back. By the time he relents, he’s pushed me far enough that even the air makes me shiver, precome welling at my tip.
“But you’re close,” he argues. He hasn’t moved off the floor. His erection juts up proudly against the fly of his jeans, and I want so badly to taste him.
There’s something I want more, though.
I skirt around him and lie down on my back on the bed. He doesn’t stand, but his shoulders and arms flex as he watches, as if he’s holding himself back from joining me. “Finn, are you going to stay there all night?” I jerk my head in invitation.
I swear to the Goddess, his pupils dilate until there’s no blue left. He hisses out a breath and he’s off the floor, skinning off his clothes with remarkable speed. A moment later, I’m covered with his body, pressed deeper into the mattress when he rests his weight forward on his hands, which dig in right above my shoulders. This kiss is wild, teeth scraping my lip, and he trembles against me.
His words are little more than a rough growl in my ear. “I’ve never done this before.”
I grin and run a hand through his hair, mesmerized by the way it falls back in place and how easily he allows me this intimacy. “It’s not difficult to figure out. But if you’d prefer my back—”
“No, Roark, I mean, I’ve never done this.” He pauses and his next words ring with an anxious vulnerability. “With anyone.”
How many times can he possibly remake the world? How many times can I survive the impact of the blast before I finally accept this is what he does? That Finn breaks me down to my barest parts and uses the best of those to put me back together. I’m in awe of him. I’m humbled that this good man considers me worthy of his attention.
“I love you, Finn.”
He pulls back and I pray I haven’t said the wrong thing. The worry vanishes the moment he caresses my face. It’s not disgust or fear or confusion in his eyes. I don’t know what it is, but it makes my heart start beating again. I wonder if he’s going to say those same words. He can’t say them back to me, not now, not when I’m so close to giving him the freedom he deserves.
He tilts his head, inspecting me. Then he grins back, an easy expression, but the line of it is different somehow. “This might be a disaster.”
“Everything we do is a disaster. Yet here we are.”
“Here we are,” he repeats, brushing my lips with a teasing kiss. “Give me a sec.”
He crushes me a little when he reaches for the drawer near his bed. I don’t mind. I crave the physical contact. It’s reassuring to know he wants this as badly as I do. He doesn’t view this as winning a political advantage or having a ribald story to share.
“Now what?” he asks when he returns to me, lube and condom in hand.
After settling a pillow beneath my hips, I snag the bottle from his hand and pop the cap. His eyes burn brightly when I finger myself, taking care to smear extra lube around my rim. I never imagined doing this to myself could make me harder, but Finn’s growing flush and slightly parted lips and the ragged breaths he takes make everything else disappear. It’s only sensation and want and a desire to please him.
He steals the lube back. His slick fingers fumble against mine, while his tongue slides into my mouth, his erection heavy as it bumps into my stomach. We rub and strain and with every touch, my carefully built wall
s crumble.
“Now, Finn. Please, please, now—”
He rolls on the condom and I coax him to thrust into my slick hand before guiding him lower. His hand shakes when he takes his dick from me. He stares down, so focused on what he’s doing that he doesn’t realize he’s gripping my leg tighter and tighter. I’ll bruise. I don’t mind. Any reminder of this time with him is precious.