Page 64 of Madness Becomes Her
“Not friends, right? More?” I ask.
His eyes find mine once more. “More.”
I chew the inside of my cheek, worried this will change everything, but I also need it to.
Angling the tip of him toward my entrance, I scoot down a bit, pressing against him in a way that leaves no room for error with his first thrust.
“More,” I breathe, giving a slight nod of permission.
Finlo freezes, and I worry I’ve pushed him too far. But when he leans all his weight onto his left arm beside my face, using his other to fist his cock against my entrance, I know he’s on the same page with me.
I know that we’re about to bemore.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
LOST GIRLS AND THE LOVE THEY FIND
As if knowing just what his teasing is doing to me, Finlo guides the tip of his cock through my wetness, teasing it back and forth. I’m so turned on, stars pepper my vision.
There’s a greedy hunger gnawing at me, begging me to eat, but I’m trying hard to ignore it to give Finlo control. I want this time, his first time, to be something he remembers as being his choice. I don’t want to walk away from this wondering if he wanted it. I want to know.
I want to feel it.
“You get so wet when I touch you.” His statement renders me breathless.
Lips pressing firmly to mine, his kiss breathes life back into me. Tongues tangle as I wrap my legs around him, hoping it tips him over the edge, or inside.
He holds steady, teasing back and forth through my folds, but in all my wiggling, he’s lost hold of his length.
Now, it’s laying inside my lips, pressing against my clit as he rocks back and forth.
Breaking our kiss, he breathes raggedly, one hand cupping my face, the other fisting into my hair for leverage on sanity he’s never had.
I could come like this, I realize as a prickle crawls through my spine, culminating at the base.
A cry wriggles out of me as Finlo increases his pace.
If he comes, it’ll be all over, and my determination to feel him thrust inside me will be for naught, but I can’t stop moving with him, furiously chasing the burn that begs me to end it, begs me for one more stroke against the flames of him.
“Surely, this is madness,” he manages against my lips, his sweat-beaded forehead pressing against mine.
“No. It’s more,” I cry out in haste, wrapping my arms around his neck and hanging on for dear life when I realize my orgasm is right around the corner.
“Fin, don’t stop!”
He doubles down, reaching between us to press against his cock to give me more friction, to provide us with both more friction, instead, the force on his backward stroke only serves to tip him inside me in one swift thrust, causing us both to cry out in ecstasy at the surprise intrusion.
“Oh god, I’m sorry,” he breathes, but doesn’t miss a stroke, pulling out and gliding back inside me, his face pinched in confused bliss. “Oh god, I’m sorry,” he repeats.
The next stroke takes me closer to the edge, and the look of pure euphoria on his face only calls my orgasm closer and closer, until I’m battling to keep it at bay because I’m not ready for this to end.
“Oh god, I’m?—”
If he says sorry one more time…
“Coming!” he finishes, taking me over the edge with him as I lose control of myself, arching off the bed and screaming his name.
Finlo doesn’t stop, continuing to thrust inside me until he’s fully hard again, and I’m beyond grateful.
