Bad Boy (Invertary 5)

His head lowered and he bit her nipple through the material.

“Please, Flynn.”

“Kneel up.” He held Abby at the waist, guiding her exactly where he wanted her to be.

Flynn held her tight with one hand as he flicked open the button on his jeans with the other. A second later, he lowered Abby onto his length. Her head fell back and Flynn nuzzled the crook of her neck. Heartbeat by agonisingly slow heartbeat, he joined with her. Their bodies pressed flush against each other, their limbs wrapped tight. They were one body. The rightness of which made Flynn groan.

Using his toes, Flynn rocked the swing. Abby’s little whines sailed into the darkness as her hips began to move in time to the rocking swing.

“Perfect,” he said.

He moved them faster as his lips found hers. He kissed to consume as their bodies swayed together in a rhythm intended to push them higher into the oblivion of ecstasy.

Abby broke from his lips, gasping. “I need, I need...”

Her eyes closed, her mouth open. Her cheeks dark with passion. Her body vibrated with his touch. She moaned and moved erratically against him.

“Shh, I know what you need,” he murmured.

His hand slid down between them to caress her secret spot. Her breath stuttered. With one loud moan he felt her explode in his arms. The beauty of it pushed Flynn over the edge after her. His body clenched, his muscles became unbearably taut and he roared his release.

Abby collapsed into his arms. Flynn held her tight against his racing heart. He kissed her hair. His head fell back against the swing. His fingers traced lazy circles on the small of her back.

For a few moments they swayed gently in place, listening to the stream trickle by in the distance, picking out the gentle hoot of an owl, the snuffling of animals in the undergrowth. The heady scent of night flowers floated over them on a cool breeze, soothing their heated skin. Abby shivered and he wrapped her tighter. Loath to let her go.

“I really need a shower.” Abby paused. “And a snack.”

Flynn tried not to laugh out loud, but she must have felt his chest shake under her cheek.

“What’s so funny?”

She sat back to look at him. The pout was endearing. He trailed a finger down her cheek.

“You.” He grinned. “You’ve got to stop being so romantic after we make love. I can’t cope with it.”

She frowned. “I wasn’t being romantic.”

Flynn laughed. “I know. Last time you offered me tea and cake; this time it’s a shower and a snack. My ego can’t cope with all the praise you heap on me.”

“Idiot.” She smacked his chest.

“Your idiot.” The words were out of his mouth before his brain had a chance to vet them.

They stilled. The silence loomed around them. Abby’s eyes were wide as she stared at him. He couldn’t quite read the expression in them. He was too busy coping with the fact his heart was beating like mad and his palms had started to sweat.

“Are you?” she said at last. “Mine?”

Flynn leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers.

“Would it freak you out if I said I was?” Because, even though it scared the life out of him, he couldn’t get past the resounding rightness of the words. He was Abby’s.

“A little bit,” she whispered, but her hold tightened on him.

“Then forget I said it.” Flynn smiled at the possessiveness of her hold.

“I might be yours too,” Abby whispered.

Flynn froze. “Fuck me,” he breathed.