Page 50 of Spark
He nods and leans in and kisses me. "I need you, too."
We peel our shirts off and spend several minutes kissing while our hands roam over chests and thighs and backs. Now that I know what’s coming, that we’ll both get some relief, I want to take my time savoring the way he sighs when my fingers glide from his collarbone to his waistband, the way his hands stroke along my back, and the way we kiss as if it’s our favorite thing to do in the world.
Finally, when my lips are buzzing and my pulse is thudding in anticipation, Finlay stands, sheds his jeans and boxers, then kneels in front of me and helps me work my sweats and boxers down until they are freed from my good leg. He doesn’t remove the immobilizer, so my clothes are hanging over it, but I don’t care. I just want him. Eyes gleaming, he starts jacking me.
The touch, the warmth, the firmness of his grip… Moaning, I rest my head on the top of the couch cushion and thrust into his hand. "Come closer, so I can touch you too."
“Lay down first, so I won’t worry about your leg.” He waits for me to comply, and I scramble to shift my bad leg against the back cushions and slip a pillow under my head and neck. Smiling, he opens one of the coffee table’s drawers then retrieves a condom and a tiny bottle of clear liquid. "This is one of the sustainable condoms we’re testing at work."
Branching into sustainable condoms and working toward a carbon-neutral lab and facility is a new territory for his company, and I love how innovative they are. "How long have you had condoms and lube stashed here?"
"Since the night of our first date." His smile becomes a grin and he waggles his eyebrows. "I wanted to be prepared."
I pour lube onto both our hands. The smooth glide of the slippery liquid makes our cocks glisten in the flickering light coming from the TV. Concentrating on making Finlay feel good is difficult when he’s distracting me with his talented hands. He bends down and kisses me and I swear I could come just from the feeling of his lips pressed to mine.
As I edge closer to release, I pull back. "I want to be inside you."
Heat flares in his eyes. He swings a leg over me and, hand planted by my shoulder, kisses me once more. "I might have had a fantasy about this a time or two."
I skate my freshly lubed fingers along his ass, circling closer and closer to his hole. "Just one or two?"
"Dozens." He gasps as my fingers breach him. "Damn, that’s good. Oh, rightthere."
Smiling, I rub against his gland. "Like that, do you?"
His eyes roll back. "Yes."
"Good." I alternate between steady strokes and teasing touches, determined to swamp him in as much pleasure as possible.
"I’m ready." Fixing his gaze on mine, he grasps my cock and rolls on a condom. Then he slowly lowers himself down.
He’s so tight, gripping me like a vise. We both groan, and watch each other until he’s fully seated. The pleasure on his face matches the exquisite sensations running from my cock to the rest of my body. The ridges on the condom add to my pleasure.
As he rocks back and forth, I band my hands around his waist, urging him on. He has one hand on the back of the couch and one hand on his cock. With his head tossed back, he’s gorgeous, like some hedonistic Celtic god. I almost can’t believe he’s mine.
I thrust my hips up, trying to take him deeper, to push him over the edge. A stab of pain flashes from my knee. I can’t hide my wince, and my fingers dig into his hips in reflex. I’m relieved that Finlay’s eyes are closed and he didn’t witness my expression.
Shifting my good leg so my foot is on the floor gives me stability, and I replace thrusting with dragging him against me. Damn, he feels so good. My orgasm is barreling down, and I want to make sure he comes first. I hold tighter to his waist, rocking harder and faster, increasing the friction, whispering how glorious he looks riding my cock, how badly I want him, and what I plan to do to him later in bed.
With a cry, he comes, spurting his release over his stomach and my chest. The clench of his muscles around my cock drags me over with him. Pleasure arrows through me, zinging like electricity up my spine and combusting to envelop my body in a shower of sensations.
I float on a cloud of satisfaction, slowly coming down to earth at the feel of a warm, wet washcloth on my skin. Smiling sleepily at Finlay, I draw him close.
His body covers the length of mine and he kisses my chin. "Feeling okay?"
"Better than okay. Amazing." I press a kiss to his temple.
"Me too." He kisses my throat, then nestles his head into the crook of my neck and shoulder, sharing my pillow.
Our arms are wrapped around each other, and the warm blanket of Finlay’s body is a welcome weight.
As Finlay drifts off to sleep, I continue stroking his back. In the darkness, my worries return.
I need Friday’s doctor appointment to go well so I can return to work. And I need the florist or the bakery to be hiring, or for everyone I know to suddenly need furniture. Closing my eyes, I focus all of my will into this wish. Both these things need to happen so I can find a way to stay afloat and be free of the sensation that I’m drowning without a life preserver.
Chapter Thirteen
Finlay
