Page 63 of Songbird
“Oh, God,” she cries, voice climbing with the sharpening motion of her hips. Her pussy is soaked and my face is drenched, and I find myself silently begging for the flood of her climax to take me down. “I’m going—to—come!Finn.”
I grab her ass, shoulders and arms burning as I hold her while she comes hard on my face. She tastes different after her orgasm, better if that’s possible, and when her body moves from tension to release and she shimmies down my body, watching me with a look of wonder mixed with a little bashfulness, I slip a hand around the nape of her neck.
“You’re a fast learner,” I tell her, and when she drops her eyes shyly, her cheeks flushed and blonde curls sticking to the frame of her face, I grin. “Or maybe I’m a fucking good teacher.”
She laughs lightly, and I swipe my face clean with a fistful of the sheets as she collapses onto the mattress, naked and spent.
“Definitely option B,” she says, her voice low and sleepy. “Maybe a little of the other too.”
I chuckle and get to my knees, covering her sticky body with kisses, following her curves with my tongue and owning every inch of her from her neck to her ankles.
“You’ve got one more in you,” I tell her.
Her smile is radiant as she tosses her head on the pillow. “There is absolutely no way.”
I rise to my knees, take her wrist, and wrap her hand around my straining cock. She groans and flexes her fingers, making me moan in return.
“Just one more,” I say as I stretch out above her and line up the tip of my dick with her soaked, swollen entrance. “You can do it.”
She lifts her knees, then her hips, in invitation, and I slip in the tip. My head drops and I breathe through the resistance, then push a little more. “You’re so fucking tight,” I grunt with another rock of my hips. “So—fucking—tight.”
“I can take it,” Rosie says as she claws at my ass.
“I know you can, baby.” I give her another inch, a fresh line of sweat popping up on my brow. “You’re doing so good, but let me play a little, okay? Let me… fucking… play.”
I thrust a little deeper, relishing the exquisite torture of sinking in so slowly, but it’s not going to last. I can feel the urgency building in the base of my spine, and I almost lose it instantly when I glance down at the place our bodies are connected, the sight of my dick sinking into her.
“You’ve got no idea how pretty you look stretched around my cock,” I tell her, dropping to my elbows so I can whisper in her ear, sweat dripping from my face onto her skin and the sheets. Her fingers claw at my shoulders and sexy little sounds escape her throat. “But you should know that I’m hanging on to control by the tips of my fingers. I can wait till you’re soft and ready to take everything I’m going to give you, but as soon as that happens, I’m going to fuck you the way I need to.”
She loops her legs around my waist and arches her back, tits flattening against my chest. “And how is that?”
“Messy and wild and desperate, because that’s what you do to me, Songbird. You make me all those things. Messy. Wild. And so fucking desperate.”
Rosie whimpers as she tucks her face into my neck, and I sink deeper inside her. Deeper and deeper, the slide made easier thanks to her two earlier orgasms, her pussy slippery and supple, and soon I’m buried to the hilt.
“Ready?” I murmur, slipping a hand between us and teasing her sensitive clit, opening her lower lips so I feel the place where she ends and I begin. But there’s nothing—no space, no air, no breath—between us.
“I’m ready,” she says, and then, “Fuck me, Finn. Please.”
I kiss her—hard—and then I fuck her.
I slide out and then in again with a single, almost brutal thrust, and Rosie cries out in reply. She turns her mouth, seeking mine again, and I give it to her, our tongues tangling messily as I piston in and out of her throbbing core. Our bodies slip againsteach other, sweat and arousal coating our skin, as Rosie meets my frantic thrusts with urgent jerks of her hips.
When the shallow fit of her pussy is no longer enough, I throw her legs over my shoulders. The angle shifts and I hit something deep inside her, and Rosie responds with staccato cries that drive me wild. I grind against her, filling her pussy and stimulating her clit, holding off my own climax until I feel the telltale contractions of her muscles around my dick.
I lean in, bottoming out, and circle my hips. Rosie clamps down on me, her orgasm shuddering through her body, gasping and moaning with her head thrown back in ecstasy. With a few final pumps, I unload inside her, my release pulsing in waves of cum and burning in bright sparks in every cell of my being. I drop my mouth to Rosie’s, needing that connection between us as we come together. I keep kissing her until the final throes of our climaxes have receded.
Eventually, our kiss slows and softens just like our muscles, until I’m peppering her mouth and cheekbones, her eyelids and jaw, the tip of her nose and the length of her throat, with adoration and gratitude. Rosie loops her arms around my neck and presses me against her, and I collapse alongside her, scooping her against me, unable to tolerate for even a second the distance between us now that I’m not inside her. Messy and wild and desperate is right. That’s exactly the way I feel. How am I supposed to live now that anything short of constant contact feels like too much distance to stand?
“Finn?” Rosie’s voice is soft, her back hot and slippery against my chest, and I tuck her in tighter between my heavy arm and my body.
“Yeah, Songbird?”
“I had a really great time tonight,” she says.
I kiss her head and curl myself around her body. “Me too.”
“I mean all of it. Every moment from the very start. Meeting your family. Sharing a meal. Singing with your sisters.” Her voice drops lower. “Singing with you. Making love to you.”
