Page 53 of Forever Finn

“Please tell me you have lube.” Wyatt pulls back to stare at me, and my eyes drop to his kiss swollen lips.

“Wyatt”—I frown—“Why is a chunk of your beard missing?”

“Duct tape.”

“What?” I blink.

“Don’t ask.” He shakes his head with a chuckle. “Lube?”

“Er…” I glance around desperately until my gaze lands on the gift basket. “Um, complimentary hand lotion?”

He stares at me for a second and shrugs. “I can work with that.”

He turns and tosses me onto the bed. He’s the only man I’ve ever known who can fling me around like a rag doll and it’s fucking hot.

He quickly strips off the rest of my clothes and his before climbing on top of me. I automatically spread my legs, and he settles between my thighs. The hot skin of his steel rod grinds along my dick, and my eyes practically roll back in my head.

“Fuck, Finn,” he growls.

“Yes, please.” I pull him down and devour his mouth as we rut against each other.

I feel him blindly reaching for the lotion in the basket on the nightstand, but I’m too lost in the taste of him, the feel of his hard heavy body pressing me into the soft mattress. I let out a long-serrated groan as I feel two of his fingers press inside me. He knows my body so well now; knows I like the stretch and the tiny bite of pain.

“Wyatt, please,” I pant against his swollen mouth. “I need you.”

I feel his fingers slide out, then him guiding the head of his cock to my slick opening. My breath catches. I stare into his intensely blue eyes as his cock stretches me wide, sinking deeply into me.

“I love you, Finn,” he whispers against my mouth, and my eyes burn as the words register.

I’ve never felt so full, not just with his cock splitting me open, but with his words filling all those empty, yearning spaces inside me.

“Say it again,” I breath shakily.

“I love you,” he repeats, punctuating it with a deep thrust of his hips and tearing a cry from my mouth.

“Wyatt…” I can’t, the words are lost to sensation as he begins to move. Fucking deeply and powerfully into my body. The thick, blunt head of his cock drags over my prostate repeatedly as I wrap my legs around his hips holding him to me tightly. I wrap my arms around him, never wanting to let go. I can barely breathe as I kiss him desperately.

He pounds into me, and my dick aches painfully. My balls draw up with the need to come, knowing that the man I love—the man who loves me in return—is going to come deep inside me, marking me as his in the most intimate and primal way.

“Finn,” he growls as I feel his fingers wrap around my throat, not enough to hurt but enough to send me hurtling into the most intense orgasm I think I’ve ever had in my life. Ropes of cum spurt between us, slicking the hard muscles of his stomach and creating a wet slide as he thrusts wildly. My hole clenches and tightens around him, milking his dick as he cries out and empties himself inside me.

He collapses on top of me, and I love the feel of his weight against me. It makes me feel safe.

“I love you too,” I murmur into his ear as my fingers tangle in his long blonde hair. “I love you too.”

EPILOGUE

“Is he going to be joining us for every date from now on?” Wyatt asks in amusement, his merry blue eyes tracking across to the small golden statue sitting on the edge of the picnic blanket.

“Sssh, you’ll hurt his feelings,” I whisper. “Don’t listen to him, Oz.” I stroke his little gold head and croon. My gaze drifts to the small plaque at the base, and I still get a little thrill every time I read those words.

Finn Gallagher. Best Actor. The Playbook.

I’m not really that egotistical. I don’t sleep with it in bed with us or anything, but my attachment to it has become a bit of a running joke between Wyatt and I, so I thought he’d get a kick out of me dragging it along on our date. After all, it’s a special day today.

Today is exactly one year since mine and Wyatt’s first date, and we’re right back where we started, sitting on the dusty stage of the old, abandoned theatre Molly is still desperately trying to save, with a picnic Nat whipped up for us.

It’s been a crazy year. If you’d told me my life was going to be like this thirteen months ago, I wouldn’t have believed it. I barely recognise that sad, lonely man. My life is so different now and a large part of that is down to the gorgeous man sat opposite me unwrapping a taco.