The Cleaner (Professionals 9)

He drove me up to that edge then pushed me over before I could even suck in a full breath, leaving my body shaky, trembling as Finn continued to explore my body.

"It's my turn," I insisted, sealing my lips to his as I walked him backward toward the sofa, only breaking away from him to push him back onto the cushions.

"Poppy," he said, shaking his head.

"Is that a 'Poppy, you don't have to'?" I asked, pressing my palms to his knees, leaning over him. "Or is it a 'Poppy, I don't want you to'? They're very different things," I told him, fascinated by the way the desire and the uncertainty flashed across his light eyes.

Finn sucked in a deep breath that made his shirt stretch across his solid chest before it rushed out of him.

"You don't have to," he said, reaching out to put his hand over mine.

"Well, in that case," I said, flashing him a devilish smile as my hands pressed his legs wider, allowing me to slide between, then slowly lower myself down.

Finn's intense gaze was on me with every move I made.

My hands slipped upward from his knees, gliding up his thighs, across his hips, then upward to work his button and zipper free, then reaching inside his pants and boxers.

His breath shuddered out of him as my hand closed around his hard length, stroking him to the hilt for a moment before the pad of my thumb stroked across the head of him, making an almost pained sound escape him.

Emboldened by his open response, I leaned forward and down, keeping my gaze on him as my tongue moved around him for a long moment before slipping my lips around him, and slowly sucking him into my mouth.

There was that sound again, low, deep, nearly tortured sounding. Nothing I'd ever heard in my life was as sexy as that sound.

I wanted more.

Finn's hand slipped behind my neck, landing there with a soft pressure, but as I started to work him slowly, his fingers curled, his nails biting into my skin as I worked him more quickly, driving him up and over.

His orgasm slammed through his system with an intensity that made his whole body jerk, made a savage curse explode from his lips as his hand forced his cock deep into my throat as his hips bucked through it.

"Poppy," he said, his voice a hushed whisper as he slid from my mouth, as I moved to straddle his lap again, looking down at him.

"Been thinking about doing that since you left," I admitted, pressing my lips to his again, softer, slower, less demanding. Even if the need was clawing at my greedy system again. I might have gotten an orgasm, but I hadn't gotten what I truly wanted. Him inside of me.

But it was okay.

There was time.

To come back down fully before we drove each other back up.

I didn't anticipate, though, the way Finn's hands moved over me, sinking into my ass, massaging it as his tongue claimed mine.

His hands slipped up, grabbing the hem of my shirt, lifting it up, waiting for my hands to raise over my head to remove it completely, tossing it to the side, leaving me naked from the waist up.

"Beautiful," Finn said, watching his fingers as they moved down my side, under the curve of my breast, then up between. A small smile pulled at his lips as he traced over the tiny print of a tattoo beneath my clavicle.

No body, no crime.

"Personal motto," I told him, watching his fingers move down, slipping across my breast.

"And a little bit of a threat," he said.

"Exactly," I agreed, leaning forward to claim his lips again, only to have him duck away at the last second.

"Nope," he said, hands sinking into my hips, lifting up, then tossing me back on the sectional, leaving me to gasp and bounce as I landed. "It's my turn now," he said, making my sex clench as he towered over me.

His gaze roamed over me as his hands grabbed the waistbands of my pants and panties, drawing them down my legs, then tossing them to the side.

Anticipation sizzled across my nerve endings as Finn's fingertips teased up the instep of my foot, my ankle, my calf, the inside of my knee, where they sank in, and pulled my thighs apart, spreading them wide.

He watched as his fingertips grazed my inner thigh, the triangle above my sex, then, finally, slipping between, tracing up my slick cleft, circling my clit, then moving back down, and thrusting slowly inside me.

A low, groaning noise escaped Finn as my walls clenched around him, drawing him in, demanding friction.

My hips wiggled impatiently as he continued to finger me infuriatingly slowly.

"Finn, please," I begged.

As I watched, his eyes burned for just a moment before he was suddenly down between my thighs, running his tongue around my clit.