“See. You belong here.”
He sits in an Adirondack chair, long legs spread. “Come here.” I move in front of him. “Show me where it hurts.”
I point to my bicep and he leans in, soothing the tender muscle with his lips. This turns into a sensual game where he nurtures every spot I direct him—inner thigh, hip, stomach, shoulder.
When I press a fingertip to my breast, he rubs the pad of his thumb against the stiff peak. “Are you going to be my dirty little slut tonight?”
Weirdly, I’m not offended by his words. Who am I? It’s funny how you have no inkling what you like sexually until it’s presented to you by a gorgeous man who follows it up with, “Only mine, though. No one else gets the dirty slut.”
I nod, mesmerized by the shadow of flames dancing across his chiseled face. “I want you to do what I say, and then I’ll make you come.”
Oh, dear. What has been going on in the bedrooms of America while I was making pottery? I feel so cheated by the beta males of my past.
“What do you want me to do?” Seems a fair question to ask. I’m learning to expect the unexpected with Finn.
“Take your clothes off,” he says. “Let me see your body.”
With lava—not real lava—coursing in my veins from his commanding tone, I tantalize him with an unhurried striptease. I’ve never stripped for a man before, but the roaring fire is making me hedonistic. Swaying to the imaginary music in my head, I inch my shirt up, exposing the skin beneath at a slow-moving pace. Once it’s off, I let it flutter to the ground, and memorize every detail of Finn’s reaction. The half grunt, the swipe of his tongue on his full lips, the rise of his chest.
My shoes are toed off, and I slip my fingertips in the waistband of my joggers and shimmy them off. Joggers aren’t particularly sexy, but I feel sexy as I use them like a feather boa to finish my performance. When I’m done, I drop them with a wink.
His hooded gaze flickers to the pile by my feet, then burns a path over my white bra and panties. “You look like an angel.”
Sparks fly from the crackle of fire, casting him in a devilish light. “You look very wicked.”
“I’m going to spank you for not putting your clothes on the table. You like being spanked?”
It seems best to be truthful regarding something that involves pain. “I don’t know. I’ve never been spanked, but I liked Fifty Shades of Grey.” The, uh, movie. I didn’t quite get around to the book.
“Turn around and bend over.”
My pulse races. It’s like all my constraints have disappeared without the confines of walls. Outdoors, I’m free as the rustle of wind in the trees. It’s liberating.
With hands braced on my knees, I wiggle my bottom, eager to experience some light BDSM. For science.
I glance at him over my shoulder. “Ready when you are, Sir.”
“Such a bad girl, showing off your thong.” He smacks my ass. Not hard enough to hurt, but not a gentle tap either.
“Do you like that?” he asks, palming and massaging my cheek.
“I’ll need another one to decide.”
He gives me three more, each one stronger than the last. “You like it?”
The spanking itself isn’t what’s turning me on, it’s the thrill of being naughty. “I like that you like it.”
“You want to please me?”
“Yes.” And I do. The unabashed desire he exudes for me is an aphrodisiac.
His finger slips inside my panties. “You’re wet. Turn around.”
My mouth waters as he lowers his zipper and eases his jeans and boxers past his hips. “Suck me, Chloe.”
He wins bonus points for stealing the cushion from the chair next to him so I have a soft place to kneel. For the first time, I’m not intimidated about the prospect of giving a blowjob. I settle between his thighs ready to suck him like a porn star. He rubs the head of his cock against my lips, and I lick the tip, then swirl around the plump head. Once again, I focus on his balls, gently squeezing while I slide him into my mouth.
“Mmm.” His fingers comb through my hair, until the loose strands are fisted in his hand. “I want to see you take all of me in your pretty mouth.”
This is a daunting task, but a challenge I accept.
“Fuck, your mouth is so hot.”
I’m enjoying his aural as much as he’s enjoying my oral. I squeeze my thighs together and squirm from his raspy tone. There was a pro-tip I read in a magazine that said if you want to give an amazing blowjob he’ll never forget, to suck and swirl. Emboldened by his responses, I test it out. It works. His guttural groan spurs me to take him deeper.
“Keep sucking,” he says. “You’re making me lose my mind.”
His hips rock with urgency as my mouth and hand work in tandem, gliding up and down his velvet thickness. Even though I’m the one on my knees, I feel powerful. Like a goddess beneath the moonlight, worshipping Finn’s dick.
“I’m going to come if you don’t stop,” he husks, leaving my mouth with a pop.
“Do it. Come in my mouth,” I urge, because out here, under a blanket of dark, I’m a brave temptress.
“I want to come inside you.”
Well, I can’t deny him that. “I want that too.”
He rises and sheds his clothes. My skills must’ve been phenomenal, because he doesn’t bother to fold them before sheathing himself with a condom.
I’m scooped up and carried onto the cool lawn. It’s prickly and hard, but Finn is harder. On hands and knees, I brace against the earth and wait for him to tilt my world off its axis. My panties are discarded and he bites each cheek, then trails his tongue up my spine. My eyes fall shut as he enters me on a rough stroke. I moan, loving the way he fills me, the way he grips my hips as he retreats, then pumps back in with a groan. My masquerade outfit is abandoned and I don’t hold back. I’m finding out who I am. This is me, unashamed, begging him to go faster. Harder.
The sounds of our bodies slapping fill the night as we mate like wild animals. I can’t call it lovemaking. Lovemaking doesn’t really fit this raw urgency taking place. It’s not tender or slow. He hits that special spot deep inside, and my orgasm builds, needing to be released.
“Ride me,” he says, flipping us over, and pulling me on top of him. “Work your cunt all over me.”
My rolling hips falter a moment at the word he used, but I’ll decide later if I like it.
With apparent night-vision skills, Finn unhooks my bra and tosses it. “You have perfect tits.” He cups my breasts. “I love the way they bounce.”
As I circle and grind, seeking euphoria, he sits up, changing our position, and takes a nipple between his teeth. He’s so bendy. And good with his mouth.
“Finn,” I murmur. “That feels so good.”
He rocks up into me, sucking and biting the sensitive peaks. I’m so close. Every cell tingles like a live current. And then I’m on my back, legs over his shoulders. I claw at the grass.
“Say my name again,” he says, slamming into me.
“Finn.”
“Louder.”
“Finn.”
“Scream my name.”
“Finn,” I yell. Hopefully, no wild animals are now curious what’s going on in their territory. My orgasm fades, because now I feel silly. And I am not bendy. I drop a leg from his shoulder.