Snatched

“I am trouble,” Finn answers plainly, without taking his hands off me.

“Real trouble, I mean.”

“I am real trouble,” Finn says. “I get in fights. I’m from the bad part of town. I can’t pass freshman math to save my life.”

“I know,” I say. “You failed your quiz.”

Finn shrugs. “Look, I know where I’m from and who I am. And I am trouble.”

“Are you trouble for me?” I ask tentatively.

It would have been easy for Finn to brush the question off, or to answer it with a glimmer in his eye. Instead he looks right at me. “I’ll try not to be.”

I nod a little, then lean forward to kiss him, letting my hips rock against his legs. He makes a pleasured sound, then pulls my upper body forward so he can have a clear shot to spank me, a little harder than he did last night. He turns his face to see mine as he does so.

“You like that,” he says, and I nod, chewing my lip. “Good,” he says, then spanks me again, just hard enough that it makes me gasp. “Tell me what you’ve done before.”

“What?” I ask, so distracted by the lingering sting of the spanking that it takes me a moment to get the word out.

“In bed. Tell me what you’ve done.”

“Why?” I ask, astounded.

“Because I told you, Kenley. I’m going to fuck you, hard, and I want to make sure you like it. Now, I’m not especially worried about that, given the way you screamed last night— but I also want to make sure I can give you something new. I was the first one to lick your pussy, you said?”

I pant at the words, at the memory, at how confidently Finn said all this. My reaction seems to give Finn power; he smiles slightly, arrogantly, then reaches down for the hem of my shirt. I lift my arms and he pulls it off my head, tosses it aside.

“Am I the first one to suck you here?” he asks, running his fingertips across my bra, He takes hold of my breasts gently, runs his thumbs across my nipples.

“Yes,” I admit softly.

Finn nods, then reaches around my back and unhooks my bra. I tremble as I feel the elastic release; he guides the straps off my shoulders and throws it on top of my shirt. Finn leans in and takes my left nipple into his mouth, pulling at it lightly with his teeth, and a strained, excited noise rises from my throat. He pinches my other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolls it back and forth until it goes hard.

Finn releases my breasts, then rises, holding me to his waist. He sets my feet down on the floor, making sure I’m balanced before releasing me. He tilts his head, brushes my hair away from my face and then steps back. His hair is tousled, and he’s already sporting a five o’clock shadow even though it’s mid-afternoon. He’s so strong, so big, everything about him so perfect. I start to fold my arms across my stomach, hyper-aware of his gaze—

“No,” he says sternly. “I want to look at you.”

I bite my lip again, but obey. Finn guides me a few steps back from the couch, then walks around behind me. He reaches around my waist and unbuttons, then unzips my jeans. I fist my hands to keep them from visibly trembling as he eases them down my thighs, then drops to his knees behind me.

I can feel his breath on my ass, through my panties. Finn places one hand on the front of my thighs, to steady me, then lets the other wander up my inner thigh, until his fingertips brush against my pussy.

“How had no one licked your clit before?” He muses to himself, then, to me, “Was that the truth? Really, no one has?”

“I never let them,” I gasp as he draws his fingers back and forth, pressing just hard enough onto my panties that I feel the pressure. I desperately want more.

“Why’d you let me?” he asks.

“You didn’t ask,” I say, which is partially a joke, but partially true. He didn’t ask— and I liked that. I liked that he did what he knew would make me come hard, I liked that he did what he wanted to me, and that I trusted him to do it right.

“See? I’m trouble, just like they all say,” he says huskily, then kisses my ass, letting his tongue trail along my panties until I’m dangerously close to a level of wetness that’s bordering on ridiculous.

Finn slips his fingers into the crotch of my panties. I gasp and try to rock against them, but he pulls the fabric away rather than pushing his fingers up into me.

“Patience,” he teases me. I look over my shoulder at him; I can only just see his hair, and it’s clear he’s staring at my ass, at my pussy, at his hand as he toys at me. “Have you ever been fucked before, Kenley?” He presses a finger against my entrance as he asks.