Page 7

finn

. . .

I've spent a lifetime dreaming of Hazel Brown's lips, but nothing compares to the reality of her taste against my mouth.

Her fingers tangle in my hair as I carry her to the bed, her weight perfect in my arms. The soft lamplight casts a golden glow across her skin, making her chestnut waves shimmer against the white pillowcase when I lay her down. I hover above her, suddenly struck by the magnitude of this moment.

"Haze," I whisper, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Are we moving too fast? I don't want to rush you into anything."

Her hazel eyes, warm and certain, lock with mine. She reaches up, cupping my cheek with a tenderness that makes my heart stutter.

"Finn Morgan," she says, voice husky with desire, "I've waited for this night for far too long. Don't you dare stop now."

She pulls me down to her, our lips meeting again with renewed urgency.

All my hesitation dissolves into the heat between us.

My hands tremble slightly as I unbutton her blouse, revealing inch by inch of the skin I've only allowed myself to imagine.

I press reverent kisses along her collarbone, down to the swell of her breasts above her lace bra.

"You're beautiful," I murmur against her skin, reaching behind to unhook her bra with fingers that suddenly feel clumsy with anticipation. When the fabric falls away, I pause, taking in the sight of her. My childhood best friend. The woman I've loved since before I understood what love meant.

Her breath catches as I lower my mouth to her breast, tasting her with desperate need. Her back arches off the bed, a soft moan escaping her lips that sends heat coursing through me. My hands slide down her sides to her hips, hooking into the waistband of her panties.

I look up at her face, seeking final confirmation. Her eyes are half-lidded, cheeks flushed, lips parted. She nods, lifting her hips slightly to help me as I slowly pull the delicate fabric down her legs.

"I've loved you my whole life, Hazel Brown," I confess, the words spilling out before I can stop them.

At this moment, with Starlight Bay quiet beyond her bedroom window and nothing between us but truth, I finally feel like I've come home.

I spread her legs gently, my hands trembling with reverence as I settle between her thighs. The scent of her desire fills my senses, and I have to pause, overwhelmed by the intimacy of this moment. This is Hazel— my Hazel —trusting me completely.

"Finn," she breathes, her voice a mixture of need and vulnerability that makes my chest tight.

I press soft kisses along her inner thighs, taking my time, savoring every gasp and shiver I draw from her. When I finally taste her, she cries out, her hips bucking against my mouth. I grip her thighs firmly, holding her steady as I lose myself in pleasuring her.

Her taste is intoxicating and addictive. I work my tongue against her most sensitive spot, feeling her pulse and flutter beneath my touch. When I slide a finger inside her, she arches off the bed, one hand fisting in the sheets while the other tangles in my hair.

"Oh god, Finn," she gasps, her thighs trembling around my head. Don't stop."

I slip in another finger, curling them skillfully as my tongue lavishes her clit with relentless devotion.

Her breathing turns into ragged gasps, desperate little moans slipping from her throat, igniting my desire.

I sense her nearing the edge, her body coiling with tension under my touch, every muscle responding to the escalating pleasure.

"That's it, Haze," I murmur against her heated skin. "Let go for me."

Her climax crashes over her with stunning intensity, her back bowing as she cries out my name. I don't let up, drawing out every last tremor until she's boneless and panting beneath me.

When I finally lift my head, she's looking at me with such raw emotion that it takes my breath away.

"Come here," she whispers, tugging me upward.

I move over her, wiping my mouth against the back of my hand before I kiss her deeply. She moans softly, tasting herself on my lips, her fingers digging into my shoulders.

"I never knew it could be like this," she confesses, her voice fragile with wonder.

I brush my thumb across her flushed cheek, memorizing every detail of her face—pupils dilated, lips swollen from our kisses, hair wild against the pillow. Twenty years of friendship, of longing, of imagining this very scenario, and still reality outshines every fantasy.

"I'm not done with you yet," I promise, my voice rough with desire.

Her hands slide down my chest to the waistband of my jeans. "These need to go."

I stand to undress, suddenly self-conscious under her hungry gaze. But the way she watches me—like I'm something precious and desired—melts away any uncertainty. When I'm finally naked before her, her eyes widen slightly, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

"Come back to me," she says, reaching for me.

"I love you, Hazel Brown," I whisper, needing her to understand that this isn't just physical for me. "Not just tonight. Not just tomorrow. Always."

Her eyes shine with unshed tears as she cups my face. "I love you too, Finn Morgan. I think I always have."

I settle between her thighs again, our bodies aligned perfectly.

The heat of her against me is almost unbearable.

I brace myself on my forearms, looking down at her with a question in my eyes.

When I finally push inside her, the world narrows to just this—her warmth surrounding me, her breath mingling with mine, her heartbeat against my chest. Home, at last.

We move together slowly at first, my body trembling with the effort of holding back. Every slide into Hazel's tight heat threatens to undo me completely. Her eyes never leave mine, creating an intimacy more profound than the physical joining of our bodies.

"You feel incredible," I breathe against her lips. "Better than anything I've ever dreamed."

"Finn," she gasps, her fingers digging into my shoulders as I withdraw almost completely before sinking back in. "I never knew... never imagined..."

I capture her words with my mouth, kissing her deeply as we establish a rhythm that feels both new and familiar—like we've been practicing this dance our entire lives. Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me deeper, changing the angle until she moans into my mouth.

"That's it, Haze," I encourage, bracing one hand beside her head while the other slides beneath her, lifting her hips slightly. "Show me what you need."

Her eyes flutter closed as I hit a spot that makes her gasp. "Right there," she pleads. "Don't stop."

I maintain the angle, watching her face transform with pleasure. The sight of her—flushed and wanting beneath me—pushes me toward the edge, but I'm determined to feel her come apart around me first.

"Look at me," I command softly, and when those hazel eyes lock with mine, something primal stirs within me. "I want to see you fall apart."

My thrusts become more deliberate, more forceful, drawing desperate little sounds from her throat that drive me wild. Her nails rake down my back, marking me as hers.

"Fuck, Hazel," I growl, abandoning the careful control I've maintained. "You're so perfect––so tight around me."

Her breath catches at my words, her eyes widening slightly. I've never spoken to her this way, but the raw desire on her face tells me she likes it.

"Is this what you wanted?" I ask, my voice rough as I snap my hips forward. "To be fucked by your best friend?"

"Yes," she moans, her legs tightening around me. "God, yes, Finn."

My hand finds hers, pinning it above her head as I drive into her with increasing urgency. Our bodies slick with sweat, the headboard knocking rhythmically against the wall. I feel her beginning to tighten around me, her breath coming in short, desperate pants.

"Come for me again," I urge against her ear, nipping at the sensitive skin beneath it. "Let me feel you, baby."

Her release triggers my own, her body clenching around me as she cries out my name. I thrust deeply one final time, burying my face in her neck as pleasure crashes through me in waves. For a moment, the universe contracts to just this bed, just us, just the culmination of years of unspoken longing.

Afterward, I hold her close, our heartbeats gradually slowing in tandem. Her fingers trace lazy patterns on my chest as I press soft kisses to her forehead, her temple, and the corner of her mouth.

"Twenty years," I murmur against her skin. "Twenty years I've waited to tell you I love you."

Her smile—soft and unguarded—is worth every moment of waiting.