Page 59 of Twisted Trails (Rogue Riders Duet #2)
One of his hands slips beneath the hem of my shirt to touch the bare skin at my back, and I jerk before a shiver wracks my body. “I love you, too, baby girl,” he whispers, then lines himself up and thrusts softly against my center again.
My toes curl as I gasp into his mouth, and he swallows the sound, groaning low in his throat as I find my rhythm again, the pain forgotten as I rock harder against him, again and again, and fuck, I want the sounds he makes carved into my bones .
“Alaina.” His voice is tight, like he’s holding on by a thread. “What are you doing to me?”
“Same thing you’re doing to me.”
A curse drags from his lips as I roll my hips to meet him, chasing more heat. Every movement sparks my nerves, my thighs and ass clenching tighter while my nipples harden beneath my shirt.
Finn’s hands slide down my back before he grips my ass in both hands, punching his hips forward into me, guiding us in a faster rhythm. “ Jesus, you feel way too good .” His breath is hot against my neck as he praises me, rutting into me with renewed vigor.
I burrow my head into the spot between his head and shoulder, and he changes his angle slightly, finding one that hits me just right, impossibly making it even better.
I cry out as his hard cock slams against my clit over and over.
If we keep doing this, I’m going to come.
His hands roam, stroking up my sides, calloused fingers tracing the edge of my ribs. “I wanna make you feel good too.”
“You are,” I breathe out, eyes fluttering shut.
He flips us with something like a growl, rolling me onto my back and following me down, settling himself above me, between my thighs. The second his hard cock presses into me again, I arch with a sharp gasp, clutching at his shirt, my nails digging in.
I’m throbbing all over as we move together, hips caught in a rhythm that’s more instinct than thought as pressure blooms between my thighs.
My hands slide under his shirt, fingertips chasing the lines of his back, the warmth of his skin.
He shudders under my touch and groans into my mouth, kissing me in a sloppy way that’s all tongue and teeth.
His biceps flex as he braces himself on either side of my head and rolls his hips again, the thick press of him grinding exactly where I need it.
A cry tears from my throat. “Finn?—”
“I’ve got you,” he rasps, lips brushing mine.
I’m unable to speak because the heat, friction, and unbearable sweetness of being held this way is already too much.
He finds my good hand and threads our fingers together, holding it above my head. “Alaina,” he rasps, cupping my cheek and stroking softly across my cheekbone before he slows his pace, rolling his hips into me in precise, languid strokes.
Again. And again. And again.
His eyes never leave mine, and I surrender to it, chasing every delicious rub of his cock against my clit through the soaked fabric between us.
Surging forward, he kisses me again, then trails open-mouthed kisses down my throat. “You feel that?” he murmurs into my neck. “The way we fit?”
I whimper at the words, at the feel of his body that is everywhere. With every thrust, he rubs the fabric of his shirt over my hard nipples, and when I squirm, chasing the feeling, he finally looks away, taking in the way it pulls against my breasts.
Then he moves . Faster than I can track, he ducks down and sucks my aching nipples through the fabric.
Moaning, I throw my head back and arch my spine, offering him more, and he takes it.
All I can smell is his sweet scent, while he devours me, kissing, biting, and licking my nipples, whispering my name like a hymn whenever he comes up for air.
“I love you, Alaina.”
“I love you. I love you.”
Again and again, with every breath.
I start to tremble beneath him, and he releases the fabric and kisses me. My body jerks as the wet spots left by his mouth tease my aching nipples, pressure coiling low as my hips roll frantically now, chasing that edge with everything I have.
“Don’t stop,” I beg. “Please, don’t?—”
He presses his forehead to mine, rocking into me harder.
It crashes over me in waves, my whole body pulling tight around the pleasure before breaking apart in his arms. I cry out against his mouth, and he holds me through my orgasm, kissing my cheeks, my temple, my lips, whispering soft things I can’t even understand.
Even as I fall apart, body trembling and pulsing, I keep moving, keep rocking against him.
Only a few breaths later, his breath stutters before a broken sound tears from his throat.
His hips push into me once, twice, before he gives one last desperate thrust. Finn’s body seizes above me, muscles drawn tight, but his eyes stay locked on mine as he comes on a moan that softens into almost a whimper, and punches through my chest like a second climax.
It’s not just pleasure written across his face.
It’s love. It’s awe.
It’s home .
We pant together for several long moments before Finn hangs his head. “You just made me come in my pants like a fucking teenager.”
I laugh softly, cupping the side of his face and brushing my thumb over his flushed cheek. “You’re welcome.”
He stays hovering above me, our fingers still tangled above my head and breaths mingling as his nose brushes mine.
When he finally rolls to the side, he takes me with him, keeping hold of me .
Then he wraps his arms around me so tight I know—I know —he’s never letting go again.
Not unless I ask him to.
And I won’t.
Because he was right.
This will be the last time I love Finn Greer because I never stopped.
And never will.