Page 82 of Savage Blooms
Nicola and Adam lay together for a moment, their bodies pressed together, their skin tacky with drying sweat. Then Adam lifted his head, his eyes as bright as she had ever seen them. He was just Adam, the same goofy, kind, frustratingly headstrong young man she had always called her dearest friend. But he was also something else now,something Nicola didn’t quite have the words to define but was incredibly grateful for.
“That was amazing,” he breathed. “You’re amazing.”
“Same to you,” she said, blushing through her afterglow.
She looked over to Finley, her heart pounding in his chest. Would he be pleased with her? Would he be jealous, or disappointed?
Finley was still curled up in the chair, sitting perfectly still as though moving any muscle might cause the dreamy atmosphere in the room to dissipate. His dark curls shaded his eyes, making parsing his expression difficult.
“How was that?” Adam asked, and if Nicola wasn’t mistaken, she detected a note of challenge in his voice.
Finley cleared his throat.
“I think everyone had a very good time,” he said tightly.
“I’ll take it,” Adam murmured with a smile, to Nicola, not Finley. Then he stood and said, a little sheepishly, “I should probably go get cleaned up.”
Finley nodded, waving him off. Nicola felt Adam lean down and kiss her forehead, and she heard him wander off to the bathroom, but she didn’t see any of it, because she couldn’t stop staring at Finley. He was taking quick, shallow breaths, and the outline of his cock was still clearly evident through his jeans. How he had resisted getting himself off surreptitiously in the corner, Nicola couldn’t fathom.
Then again, maybe he understood denial better than any of them.
“Nicola,” he said, with such raw adoration that it made her heart seize.
Nicola tugged her skirt back down over her thighs, then she carefully slid off the couch and onto the floor. Onto her knees.
Never breaking eye contact, Nicola slowly crawled across the room to Finley. She tried to be present with the act, to focus on the pressure of the hardwood under her knees, the stretch in her back. There was a pleasant ache in her sex, a tingle of aftershock still running up her spine.
She didn’t stop until she was right in front of him, and then she sat back on her heels and placed her hands on his thighs.
Finley took an uneven breath and uncrossed his legs. Nicola knelt between his knees, her nimble fingers finding the zipper on his jeans. He was hard as a rock when she took him in hand.
“You don’t have to,” he said, smoothing her curls away from her face and sliding his fingers through her hair.
“What if I want to thank my teacher for such a good lesson?” she asked, then wrapped her lips around his cock.
Nicola had done this many times before, but it felt different somehow, kneeling at the feet of someone she had entrusted her own pleasure to moments before. She bobbed her head up and down, taking as much of him as she could, and used her free hand to cup his balls.
“I’m going to hurt you,” Finley said, and it was impossible to tell if he was warning her about what he wasgoing to do next, or if he was prophesying that things would end badly between them. Either way, Nicola welcomed it. She made a humming sound of assent, then dragged her tongue along his length.
Finley hissed, and the grip in her hair grew more forceful, more directive.
Nicola moaned in satisfaction and let him fuck her mouth, losing herself in the experience.
When he came, it was with a jerk of his hips and a strangled cry, softer than she would have expected. Nicola swallowed every drop of him, savoring the taste. She even licked him clean afterwards.
Finley leaned down and pressed his knuckle beneath Nicola’s chin, tipping her face up towards his for a kiss. Nicola kissed him deeply, sharing that taste with him, and then she drew away and beamed up at him.
Finley’s eyes fell on something over her shoulder. When she looked behind her, she saw Adam standing in the doorway with a dish towel in his hands, probably to offer to Nicola. He wore the strangest expression. It didn’t look like betrayal, or jealousy even.
It was more like longing.
“How long have you been standing there?” she asked. This should be fine, strictly speaking. Adam had told her she could do as she liked with Finley, and Finley had responded in kind. But high-minded notions about civility and sharing often flew out the window when the heart got involved.
To Nicola’s great relief, Adam didn’t seem angry.
“Long enough for a show,” he said, and then walked over and held his hand out for Nicola. He pulled her to her feet as Finley tucked himself away in his jeans. “Does anyone want something warm to drink? I can boil water.”
“I think Eileen may still have some drinking chocolate in the cupboard,” Finley said, standing up. “I’ll help you find it. Unless you two want some time to yourselves?”
