Controlled Burn (Blackbridge Security 8)

Urgency to expose myself washes over me when his tongue skates the lower curve of his mouth. Trembling with need, I drop the garment, and his eyes lock on my breasts. I feel his gaze there like a tangible thing, needing his mouth on me more than I’ve ever needed anything.

As if reading my mind, Finn leans forward, brushing his soft lips over my skin but studiously avoiding the place I need him the most. My nipples furl, demanding to be noticed.

“Finn,” I plead, my body aching all over in desperation for him.

He obliges, first with a quick swipe of his tongue, but then he draws the taut tip into his mouth. I feel the sucking right in the center of me, and I whimper for more, more, more.

My fingers curl into the muscle at his shoulders, and the groan he releases reverberates through my entire body.

It’s never been like this for me, and that’s more bad than good because I know I’m going to be left still wanting him. He can bring me all the pleasure in the world, and instead of feeling sated, I’m only going to want it all over again. It’s like uncorking the best bottle of wine and trying to assure myself I’ll only have a single glass. Come morning, I’m left with regret and a headache, the empty bottle beside me.

Finn will be no different, and since I can’t escape the man who sleeps right down the hall from me, I know this won’t be the last time. With his mouth on me, the warmth of his tongue laving my skin, we’ve already gone too far.

I can only hope to survive him at this point because the train wreck is coming.

With his palm flat on my lower back, he urges me deeper into him, my center brushing over his rigid cock.

We groan in unison, both enjoying the contact our bodies are making, but it’s not enough. My eyes flutter closed as I picture him sliding through my arousal to find the center of me. I whimper, needing exactly that as my hips jolt, seeking friction and fullness.

I can’t recall a single time I’ve ever been this hot for a guy, and it doesn’t bode well for my slightly crazy, very addictive personality. I don’t have to sink down on him. He doesn’t have to fill me up for me to know just how good going that far with him will feel.

Instinctively, I know Finn will be a good lover. He’ll be generous, not only with what he’s been blessed with but also in his tentative care to my own pleasure.

He’s not rushing me, trying to get to the finish line. The man is taking his time, savoring, enjoying the build-up just as much as I am, and it’s delicious, decadent, and making me feel things I’ve only read about.

Gooseflesh covers every inch of me, making my nipples draw in even tighter, and he groans against the tip of one breast, his hand coming up to cup the other one in his massive hand as if he just can’t get enough. It’s like he wants to be everywhere at once, and not having every inch of me in his mouth is a point of contention for him.

“Finn,” I whisper. “We’re wearing too many clothes.”

I grin when I feel his smile against my skin.

“Let’s fix that problem,” he says, pulling me right off him as if I weigh less than a feather.

My feet hit the floor, and I’m grateful for the grip he keeps on my hips as his eyes stay locked on my exposed breasts. If he weren’t holding me, I’d likely fall over because my legs literally feel like jelly. I’m weak in the knees, and I never understood the saying until now.

My body screams at the lack of contact after experiencing the brush of him against me in all the right places.

His mouth meets the tip of my deprived breast as his fingers work my leggings down. In an effort to help, I kick my shoes off, letting them land wherever they choose. I don’t hear them crash into anything, so I call it a win.

“You’re riding my cock tonight, Kendall.”

Chapter 20

Finnegan

A slow smile spreads across her flushed face with my words, her teeth digging into the corner of her lower lip.

“Should I let you come?” I ask, my eyes locked on her even with the distracting jiggle of her amazing tits in my face.

“Let me?” she asks, her brow drawing in. “What makes you think you can stop it?”

She’s playful, and as much as I love seeing her like this, the anger from her lying to me is still simmering deep inside my gut.

“You lied about where you work.”

She tries to take a step back, and I realize my words came out harsher than I intended. I have no desire to stop what we’re doing, and I know I’m skating a fine line confronting her before she slides down the length of me.