Counterfeit Love

Part of that future was going to include sex.

And it felt like there was no reason for denying myself this now.

Everything felt right, starting the moment I laid eyes on him once again.

Coming back to the room to find him mostly naked had been the one final assurance that I hadn't realized I'd been seeking.

Finch's hands rose, slowly, tentatively, reaching outward, framing my face as he moved forward, watching my gaze for a moment before sealing his lips over mine.

I wasn't sure I could feel any more need as his body shifted forward, pressed against mine.

My hands moved upward--over his sides, his chest, shoulders, curling around the back of his neck, pressing my breasts to his firm chest, feeling his hard length against my stomach.

I expected to panic at that, to pull away, to flash back to my only experiences with men. Pain and misery. Humiliation.

But there was none of that.

I was here, with him.

No past existed.

Finch's lips pressed deeper, his tongue moving inside to toy with mine, making my belly turn liquid, making my clothes feel oddly hot and itchy.

Finch's lips left mine, tracing down my neck, sending a shiver through my body.

His fingers touched my hips, moved upward to slip just under the hem of my shirt, fingers pressing to bare skin.

Pausing, waiting, then slipping higher, moving over my ribs, then touching the underside of my bra. There was another pause before his hand closed over my breast, squeezing, then slipping up and into the cup, covering my bare skin, thumb brushing over my quickly hardening nipple.

"We can stop here," he told me, sounding pained at the very idea.

If I ever needed reassurance, that was it right there, given to me. A man willing to give me an out, something I had never known before.

I pulled backward slightly, slowly raising my hands over my head, inviting him to remove my shirt from me.

His eyes were soft as he gathered the material, pulling it up, off, tossing it to the side, then reaching behind me to unfasten my bra.

When his body pressed to mine again, the contact sizzled across my nerve endings, moved inward, coursed through every inch of me, then pooled in my core.

My hands roamed over his arms as his lips moved to claim mine again, both hands covering my breasts, thumbs and forefingers rolling my nipples into painfully tightened buds.

A low grumble escaped me when his hands moved away, but died on my lips when his fingers found the button and zipper of my pants, working them free, then carefully grabbing the material, shimmying it down my hips, letting it drop.

I stepped out, anticipation making everything feel slow as I stumbled a bit to kick out of my socks and shoes, then pants, leaving me there in nothing but a pair of very practical tan panties, making me wish I had thought of this possibility when I'd dressed for the day.

Finch's fingers glided down my back, leaving goosebumps in their wake, before sinking into my ass, pulling me forward with him as he backed up into the bed, dropping down, pulling me with him to straddle his hips.

My hips dropped, making his cock press against my barely-there panties, a gasp exploding from between my lips, my gaze meeting his, finding his eyes hooded but gaze intense, watching me, gauging my reaction.

My inner thigh muscles tightened instinctively as my hips shimmied slightly, repositioning, making his cock press me where I needed most. His hiss was drowned out by my whimper, my hands digging into his shoulders as my gaze sought his.

Finding it, his hands gripped my ass tighter, dragging me against him again, driving me up.

My lips sealed to his as my hips worked with his hands, pushing me to an edge I found myself wanting to crash over.

My lips ripped from his, eyes fluttering open as he dragged me against him one last time, making my breath get caught in my lungs as everything inside seemed to splinter apart, sending me crashing down, gasping for air as an almost pained noise escaped me.

Finch's hands left my ass, sifting softly through my hair as I came back down.

"That can be it," he offered, even as his cock seemed to get harder and harder by the second.

"No," I said, shaking my head, pressing my lips quickly to his. "I want more," I added, watching as a slow smile spread across his face as he lowered himself backward, scooting us both up the bed, reaching for the material of my panties, urging me up so he could slide them off one thigh, then the other.

He just lay there for a long moment, one hand planted on my thigh, the other on my hip, looking up at me, gaze roaming over every inch of exposed flesh, breathing going more shallow.

Then his hand slid up my thigh, slipped between, stroked up my cleft, working unhurried circles over my clit for a long moment before inching downward, stopping at the opening to my body, slowly tapping his fingers there in a way that didn't seem like it should feel good, but did. In the end, it had been me to shift ever so slightly, allowing his fingers to press in little by little until they were fully inside.