Page 32 of Lords of Misrule
“What was that for?” She raises a brow.
“I want to look at it when you’re sauntering around the house in those little pajama shorts you wear and remember what it feels like when I’m this deep inside.” I grin at her.
Her lashes flutter with amusement. I slide out of her and back in slowly again, giving her just enough to torment her.
“Fuck… Seriously just, fucking fuck…” She smiles and then her eyes close again, a soft moan coming before she catches my eyes again. “Fuck. Me. Hard.”
I laugh but take her mouth with mine, kissing her as I start to move my hips, sliding out and back in again. I pick up the pace with a steady rhythm, loving how wet she is and how we sound when our bodies collide. Her breathing picks up the harder I take her.
“I’m almost—” Her warning is cut off when she starts to gasp as I grab one of her legs and change my position. “Oh my god. Finn. My god…” She turns into a mess of curses underneath me and the way her body shivers and clenches around my cock, I can’t hold out anymore. She takes me with her, and I see fucking black from how hard I come, leaning forward, and bowing my head as I try to catch my breath. Kissing the side of her temple, cheek, and throat as I start to come down from it.
We stay like that for several minutes, letting our breathing even out before I slip out of her and collapse beside her on the bed.
“That was so good.Youare so good.” She looks over at me, and I grin.
“Yeah. You too.”
Her lips quirk up at the side as she looks me over before she moves closer and kisses my cheek.
“You’re kind of a softie, aren’t you?”
“Under the right circumstances.”
Her green eyes are so bright and her violet hair a tangled mess from the way we fucked. She looks so perfect like this—no makeup on, her tee pulled up at an awkward angle from the way I was touching her before. She might be the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever fucking seen and that thought makes me realize how fucked up I already am over her.
“I like these circumstances.” She grins and then starts to sit up. “I’m gonna go get cleaned up. Really though… Do you mind if I sleep here? I don’t have to. I can check and see if the couch is available or sleep in his bed.”
“I’m pretty much going to demand it. That and cuddles.” I kiss her elbow and she smiles at me again.
“All right. Cuddles it is.”
Eighteen
Charlotte
I sneak out to the kitchen to get a glass of water and a snack a couple of hours later when I wake up and can’t go back to sleep. I’m honestly craving some more of the fruit Rowan had earlier and wondering if there’s any still in the fridge. I doubt it though when I see the mayhem from the party left behind. Luckily Rowan’s at least managed to kick everyone out, and I don’t have to step over bodies or walk out to people fucking on my couch.
I do a double-take when I look over at it though because Rowan’s there. His feet crossed and up on the coffee table, a bottle of Jack in his hand.
“You and Finn get your snuggles in and talk about how much you love each other?” He smirks, taking a long swig from the bottle.
“We fucked and fell asleep in his bed.” I eye him warily.
“Fucked? You sure you didn’t make love to him?” Rowan laughs to himself.
I ignore the bait and grab two bottles of water out of the fridge. I definitely don’t expect the same sort of care that Finn takes with me from someone like Rowan, but him digging into me like this only a few hours afterwefucked is a bit like salt in the wound.
“Why are you out here drinking alone and not in bed?” I ask, wrapping my fingers around the bottle of Jack, which he thankfully relinquishes without a fight, and replacing it with the water I’ve just uncapped for him.
“Alone’s alone. Doesn’t matter where it is.” He takes a sip of the water.
My heart falters a little at the way he says it. I’m starting to wonder if maybe Rowan needed aftercare tonight.
“You need water and sleep. Not more Jack.” I cap the bottle and put it back on the shelf before I sit down next to him.
“I need peace,” he mutters, taking another swig of the water.
My lips twitch with amusement. “Are we at the drunk-enough-to-be-philosophical stage then? Maybe we should get you to bed.” I reach for his hand, but he pulls it back.
