Snatched

“Hey!” I squirm, surprised, as Finn smacks my ass with his free hand.

I startle—no one’s ever done that before, and I find my skin tingling, wanting him to spank me again. Instead, he takes me back toward the bed and eases me down onto the mattress.

I try to back up and make room for him, but he captures one of my nipples in his mouth, and I’m useless. I moan as he flicks it with his tongue, as he circles and sucks lets his teeth graze me. He moves to my other breast, and I tangle my fingers in his hair, wanting to pull him in even closer, wanting him on me. Wanting him in me, in a way I’ve never wanted anyone before. When he pulls away, I'm panting.

“Don’t stop,” I plead.

“I’m far from stopping,” he says huskily, then slides a hand between my legs. I whimper as he inches closer and closer to my pussy. I’m wet, almost embarrassingly so, but I can’t do anything but groan when he lets his thumb graze the length of my slit, pausing at the top. “Kenley,” he says with faux admonishment. “You’re so wet, baby. Way too excited for someone who was about to storm out of my house.”

I nod, at a loss for words, and try to grind my hips downward toward his hand. He smiles, then pivots his wrist, positioning his thumb right over my entrance. His fingers slide underneath my ass cheek as he slides his thumb into me.

I cry out, long and desperate. No one’s ever gone so slowly with me before, no one’s ever inched me along to this level of arousal. No one’s ever made me want him so badly I feel I might shatter from it. I grind down on his hand and then, when I’m already feeling lightheaded and blissful, he moves his body down and lowers his mouth to my pussy.

I jump backward and try to scramble to sitting, but he tightens his grip on my ass, holding me still.

“Finn—no one has ever—“ I start. Finn doesn’t say anything; he puts his head just under my belly button and kisses me, then moves down, dragging his tongue along my skin, stopping to kiss me every few inches. My fingers and toes curl up in anticipation; I can feel Finn’s breath on me, a promise as to where his mouth will be next. He moves lower, lower; I whimper when he removes his fingers from me and pushes my legs farther apart.

There’s a moment where I regain my sense a bit, a moment where I realize how insane this is— not just because he’s a client, but because he’s Finn Thorne. He’s a famous football player, he’s an athlete, he’s a million feet tall, and I’m a math kid. I’m suppose to be with other charming nerdy hipsters, not guys like this—

But then Finn’s tongue finds my clit, and I’m gone.

No one’s ever gone down on me before— no one’s ever made me wet like this before. My back arches involuntarily, and I wrap my knees around Finn’s back. I feel so exposed to him, and it scares me in the best way. He slides his hands up my body, to my breasts, then massages them as he delicately sucks on my clit. I feel the orgasm rising in my chest, I lift my hips toward his mouth and put my hands on the back of his head, pulling him closer to me. He releases my clit the moment before the orgasm crashed into me, leaving me restless and sweating and whining in long, deep gasps.

“We’re not in a rush,” he mumbles against my thigh, then kisses me and darts his tongue into my pussy. I’m entirely sure I agree with his words, but I like the feeling of his mouth moving down my legs so much I have little to say in response. I realize that he’s still dressed. I grab for the top of his shirt and pull, though my grasp is weak and my breath short. Finn laughs, then rises and pulls his shirt over his head.

My eyes widen, lips part hungrily. I’d seen him in that towel, sure, but to have him right here, straddling my knees while shirtless, is something else entirely. He’s ripped, muscles on muscles, curves and hardness in places I’d never expect. I lift my fingers and shamelessly let them drag along his abdomen, wishing I could reach up to his chest. Finn watches me; I meet his eyes and I let my fingers travel down to the top of his boxers. I push my fingertips under the elastic, run them along the line of fabric to his hip bones.

“You want me inside you, baby?” Finn asks dangerously.

“Yes,” I say shyly, nodding feverishly.

Finn swallows and closes his eyes; a pained expression flashes over his face. “I don’t have any condoms, Kenley. I didn’t know—”