Page 73 of Flag On The Play
“My girl wants to be alone, so I’m giving her what she wants.” He steps in front of me and roughly sinks his fingers into my hair as his eyes bounce between mine. “What we both want.”
His lips crash to mine, and I moan, unable to control how he makes me feel.
He breaks the kiss and spins me around, facing the mirror, and our eyes collide. My body is burning with need, and he doesn’t waste a second giving me what I need.
He reaches under my dress and roughly pulls off my panties, shoving them in his pocket.
“Lean over and grab the edge of the sink, Nova,” he growls, unbuckling his jeans.
I do as he asks, and by the time I look at him through the mirror, I see him rolling on a condom. Before I can even process it, he slams into me, causing me to scream out in both pleasure and relief.
This isn’t slow and romantic.
It’s hard, rough, and erotic.
He’s driving into me so hard that I quickly understand why he told me to hold on. My eyes drift closed as my body is overcome with fire.
“Open your eyes, Nova. I want to see you when you come undone, and I want you to watch me as I get you there.”
His deep, rough voice in his demanding tone nearly sends me over the edge. I moan as my grip tightens on the sink while he slams into me over and over. His fingers are digging into my hips, surely leaving me bruised. His solid chest pressed against my back. His warm breath is blowing against my neck. His dark eyes locked with mine through the mirror.
I’ve never felt like this before. Never had this connection. Never wanted someone so badly that it physically hurts. Never allowed my heart to be involved.
And it’s so much more than I ever imagined.
Finlay bites down on my neck as he reaches between us and rubs my clit.
“Fuck!”
I see stars as my body begins to fall. It crashes over me like an unexpected tidal wave.
“Finlay, oh God,” I moan as wave after wave washes over me, never once looking away from his eyes in the mirror.
“Fuck, Nova. Your tight pussy is squeezing me hard. I’m not going to last,” he groans, holding my hips tighter.
I’m still floating from my orgasm as I lick my lips and my eyes bounce between his. “Let go, Finlay.”
He explodes as he moans my name, and it echoes around the empty bathroom.
He spins me around and crashes his lips to mine.
“Damn, that was incredible, baby,” he says, resting his forehead to mine.
“Hot bathroom sex. Who would’ve thought?”
The cold night air bites at my skin as I walk out of Heaven’s Edge, muscles sore and makeup smudged from the long shift. My feet ache from dancing two sets, and the private VIP request had drained the last of my energy. I’m beyond done. All I want is to get home, take a long, hot shower, and hear Finlay’s voice before he leaves for Texas in the morning.
The streets are quiet this late, my car a comforting sight under the streetlamp. By the time I reach my apartment, I’m already tugging off my jacket, craving comfort. The moment the front door closes behind me, I head straight to the bathroom. The shower is hot, a welcome relief washing away glitter, sweat, and the weight of the night.
I slip into my favorite gray sweats and Finlay’s hoodie that’s much too big. It still smells like his cologne and skin and comfort. I curl up on the couch with my damp hair twisted in a messy bun, phone in hand, ready to call him.
But the second the screen lights up, my breath catches.
Six missed calls. Nine unread messages.
All from Roxy and Delaney.
My stomach flips, a low hum of anxiety crawling up my spine.
