Page 50 of Rake

He releases my swollen bud from his mouth and gently squeezes one, then the other as he stares at me wolfishly. “What is it? What do you want?”

All coherent thought is lost to me. I finger the buttons of his shirt, and finally manage to get one undone.

“I see,” he says, stroking the back of his knuckle over my breasts. “You’re going to have to get the rest.”

He lets me undo his shirt. I pull it out from his waistband. It takes longer than I want, my fingers shaking with desire, but when I have all the buttons undone, I slide off his jacket and pull at the tie until he leans down to kiss me.

“Careful,” he says, undoing the tie and sliding the silk over the damp, pebbled peaks of my breasts. “Or I’ll have to use this to tie you up.”

I shouldn’t find that as enticing as I do, given what I’ve been through, but the thought of associating something like that with pleasure instead of pain is more than appealing.

He smirks. “Or maybe you’d like that.”

I undo his belt and he steps out of his shoes, and once I get his pants off, he’s only in his boxers. I trace the tattoo that runs over his arm, shoulder, and chest before slowly dipping my hand lower.

I look up shyly at him. I’ve never touched a man like this before.

His eyes have an intensity that makes me feel that mix of incredible desire and fear. He takes my hand and uses it to stroke himself through his boxers, showing me what he likes. I imagine it wouldn’t feel good to touch him with a dry hand, but luckily I’m wet enough for both of us, and I stroke in between my legs before reaching into his boxers.

“Fuck,” he snarls, bucking against my hand. I move up and down his shaft in the twisting motion he showed me, running my thumb over the tip of his cock. It feels like steel encased in velvet.

“How is this going to fit inside me?” I muse out loud, stroking him faster. He grabs my hand.

Did I do something wrong? “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“No.” His voice is even deeper than usual. “You’re perfect. But I need to fuck you. Now.”

Oh. Was he about to come? Could I have done that to a man like Finn with just my hand? The thought of it makes me a little delirious.

But I don’t have time to bask in it, as he’s picked me up and placed me on the bed. I notice he’s left my stockings on and feel pleased about my choices in lingerie for once. He fishes around his suit pocket and pulls out a condom, which he slides over his impressive length.

My question was a serious one. He’s very big.

He climbs over me and moves between my legs. He fingers my nipples a few more times before dipping his hand into my pussy.

“You feel incredible.” He leans down to kiss me, caressing my tongue with his. “We’re going to take it slow, Sasha. If it hurts, let me know.”

There’s a gentleness to his voice which surprises me.

“Okay.”

He plays with my pussy for a little while longer until I’m dizzy with my desire for him. He positions himself at my entrance and slowly slides the tip of his cock in. His eyes are closed, and I wrap my legs around him as he slowly, inch by delicious inch, moves all the way inside me. It hurts a little, but not in a bad way. Not like I’ve read about.

I whimper his name, stroking his back with the silk of my stockings as I move my legs tighter around him. He’s holding there, my pussy throbbing around him, and then he slowly eases out of me, though not all the way. He does this slow movement a few more times, and it seems like he’s about to snap with the effort of it.

“It’s okay, Finn,” I murmur, my hands gripping the hard muscle of his shoulders. “I’m ready. I want you to fuck me.”

His eyes flash open.

He presses his face into my neck, sucking and licking as he lifts my hips and begins to thrust into me. He builds his pace slowly, and by the time he’s thrusting hard and fast I’m screaming and clawing at his back. I hear myself beg him to make me come, and he curses as he changes the angle of his thrusting, hitting some spot inside me that takes my breath away. He repeats the motion over and over and I feel an orgasm building that’s even more powerful than the ones I had before.

My inner walls start to vibrate, and he senses I’m close to the edge, thrusting up and twisting his hips slightly while one finger dips between our bodies to stroke my clit. It’s too much. I scream out my orgasm, the intensity of it causing my body to jerk and spasm around his cock. He seems to like it, picks up his pace, and soon he’s growling against my shoulder, holding my hips tight against his, so deep inside me, coming in a series of powerful thrusts. He stays inside me for a few moments, his body covering mine.

When he does pull out, I miss the feeling of him. He goes to the bathroom to dispose of the condom, and I’m not sure what’s going to happen next. He comes back twenty minutes later, showered and wrapped in a robe.

He tips up my chin and kisses me, before running a hand down my breasts. “There’s another one in the bathroom.”

I want to cuddle up next to him, which is foolish, I know. It’s not like we’re lovers of any sort, but it was my first time.

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