Page 39 of Hands off his Dudette

Chapter 18

She didn't know what had come over her. Could she claim temporary insanity? Something like that. But instead of moving her ass, like Finn had suggested, what she moved was her hand. It might just be an optical effect because of the pants, or the light, or whatever, but his cock did look so very big and hard, and next thing she knew, she was touching it through the jeans.

Finn sucked in through his teeth, as if her light touch had been a shock.

It also felt very big, as her hand followed the length from tip to base. And thick, too.

"Anna..."

"Hm?" she replied, eyes still fixed on his crotch.

"Do you know what you're doing?"

Did she? She wasn't sure, but she wasn't stopping. "Answering a question, I suppose."

Her fingers worked on the metallic top button of his jeans, and then pulled his zipper down.

Finn grabbed her wrist and said, "Look at me."

She glanced up, finding his brown eyes fixed on her.

"How much did you have to drink?"

She rolled her eyes. "A glass of wine at dinner, and half a brandy now. I'm not drunk."

"You're something."

She bit her lip. Yes, that she was. "Maybe a little horny. Maybe a little curious, too."

Finn fixed her under his penetrating gaze for another moment, before letting go of her hand.

"All right. Not here."

The next instant, he was on his feet, pulling her with him effortlessly; he was carrying her like a child, an arm behind her knees. She held on to his neck.

"The weight lifting is definitely working out, I see."

"I'd be considerably more concerned about my cardio if I were you. I do have great stamina."

"Words. I find that men rarely follow them up."

"Do you, now..."

Finn had reached the door of his room. He stopped in front of it. "Anna, this is not worth it if it's going to ruin our friendship. We can't afford to regret this. We can't be awkward, or distant. We can't destroy us."

She nodded. "Yes."

"So, are you sure you want to play with me tonight?"

"I'm sure."

So very fucking sure she was practically trembling, her insides on fire.

He walked in.

Finn's room was a familiar domain—she knew it well. He had a king-size four poster bed, dark wood, with a simple frame. His sheets were always white. He had no apparent furniture in the rom except for a bedside table either side of the bed, but the far side wall on the left, covered with mirrors, concealed a large wardrobe. He dropped her to her feet gently, and stood in front of her, unmoving. Anna self-consciously stepped forward, and returned to the task she'd started: undoing his zipper. Once she was done, she slid it down his thick thighs. She gasped. Finn wasn't wearing any boxers; his cock flew straight up, so close to her face she couldn't help herself--she closed her mouth around its tip.

"Fucking hell, Anna," he swore, half-laughing. "Give a man a—" now he groaned, as she took him further in her mouth, and sucked. "Warning. Or don't. You can just...yeah. Do whatever you want."

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