Page 111 of Like You Want It

He moans.

“God, get this door open,” he pants out as he continues to rub up against me.

I finally manage to get the key into the lock, turn the knob, and then we’re through, practically falling into my kitchen.

Fin kicks the door shut, presses my back to his front, his hands reaching up to grab my breasts, his hands holding them fully.

“Did you wear these little things to tease me?” he asks, his hands dropping down to my tight gray shorts. He lets his fingers slowly stroke along the edge of one leg, then slips one under the fabric so it trails the crease between my thigh and my core. “Because it fucking worked.”

Then he’s slipping that same finger under my panties, and he moans into my ear when he finds me wet, slick, warm and waiting for him to do with me as he pleases.

He says nothing, instead bracing me against his chest with one hand and stroking between my lips with the other, revving me up so that I’m a thrumming, almost violent thing, rubbing myself back against him like a cat desperate for his attention

And I am.

So desperate.

Throbbing at my core for him to be inside of me.

“Please,” I whisper, my head falling back against his chest, my mouth open as I breathe heavily. “Please.”

He slips that finger inside, and it feels so, so good. But then he holds it still. I try to move up and down on it to get the friction I want, but he bands his arm around me, preventing me from moving.

“You have to be quiet again,” he whispers into my ear. “We do haveneighbors,after all.”

We spend another minute like that. Me shamelessly horny and him calling the shots. Stroking me, then staying still. Rubbing against me, then holding me tight so I can’t move.

It’s infuriating.

Until he lets go of me.

I turn and find him taking off his clothing, his shirt already unbuttoned and yanked back over his arms, showcasing the chest that I just want to lick and stroke, the tattoos that I still want him to tell me about.

I follow his lead, pulling my top over my head to reveal braless breasts, and drop my shorts and panties, flinging them into the corner with my right foot.

He stops for a minute with what he’s doing. And even though I want to revel in the way his eyes are soaking me in, that means he’s stopped unbuttoning his pants. I can’t let that happen.

So I step forward and grip his jeans, giving them a firm push downward to keep him moving forward. Because I want him naked. Right now. Naked and plastered against me. Skin to skin.

He snaps out of his daze and helps me, finally divesting himself of his pants and boxers. And then he’s walking me backward to the couch, flipping me around again and then bending me over the arm.

I’ve always wanted to be taken like this. Because that’s how I’ve seen it. Being taken. Ravaged. Ridden hard. Having only a few men in my past, I can’t say I’ve ever had someone light me up the way Fin does. He may not be the first man, but I hope he’ll be a bunch of other firsts.

Including this.

He presses on my lower back, making sure I’m settled, and I hope that he’s about to ram into me.

But then I feel a warmth and wetness that has my toes curling where they’re pressed into the carpet. His tongue parts me, then finds my nub and rubs at it over and over again.

He puts those talented fingers of his inside me again, twists them around, searching for that spot he found last time that had me seeing sta…

Oh shit.

And that’s where he focuses his time. His attention. Stroking that same spot while his tongue continues to rub my clit.

I come in less than a minute. A sharp pinch and flush of heat slinks through my veins, as I hit that peak and then fall.

I don’t even finish before he’s sliding inside of me, his cock feeling so different at this angle as he tunnels in and out. It feels like he’s hitting the end of me, some sort of place that only he can reach with that long, perfect dick.