Shifting slightly onto his side, Finn put one large, warm hand on her waist, making her jump and shudder, and then slid it behind her back to unclip her bra. After slipping it off her and throwing it aside he cupped her breast, and with a soft moan she instinctively arched her back to press herself further into his hand. He bent his head and caught one tight nipple between his lips and she whimpered as sparks shot through her. Her hands tightened in his hair, although whether to hold him still or push him lower she couldn’t tell. She didn’t want the exquisite torment he was subjecting her to to stop but on the other hand she wanted that clever mouth of his all over her. It was the most delicious of dilemmas.
Abandoning her breast, he slid his hand lower, easing beneath the waistband of her shorts and knickers, and she lifted her hips to help him push them down.
‘Beautiful,’ he muttered gruffly, his gaze singeing her skin as he moved his hand back up her calf, her knee, her thigh, taking his time and lingering in places that had her quivering. When he reached the juncture of her thighs and covered her where she was so hot and needy she cried out. He parted her with his fingers and stroked, and jolts of excitement streaked through her. Her breath caught and her heart thundered and when she reached down to touch him through his jeans his breath shot out in one long hiss.
Unable to lie there impassively while Finn was still partly clothed and doing everything, and desperately wanting to feel him without denim between them, she nudged him to encourage him to roll over, but he stopped her.
‘No,’ he said roughly, his entire body vibrating with tension. ‘You’re first.’
Noble, she thought with a shudder at the thought of the pleasure to come. But no. That wasn’t happening. Not when she owed him for the whipping-her-top-off moment. ‘Who said we have to take turns?’
He went still for a moment and then his eyes darkened and his mouth curved into a slow, smouldering smile. ‘Good point.’
He flipped onto his back, taking her with him, and she wriggled down his body. Her hands were trembling as she unbuckled his belt, so much so that she couldn’t actually undo the buttons of his fly. He batted her aside to do it himself and the sight of his capable hands with their strong fingers that could cause so much devastation within her liquefied her stomach.
He kicked off his jeans and shorts and then planted his hands on her waist to manoeuvre her into a position in which she was facing his feet and he was gripping her hips and lifting her to where he wanted her and where she wanted to be. Supporting herself on her elbows, she wrapped her fingers around his long, thick, hard length and heard him groan, and then gave a reciprocal one of her own when his tongue touched her sensitive flesh and sent sensation coursing through her.
As she moved her hand up and down the velvety steel of him, and he found her clitoris and licked, her eyelids fluttered shut, her entire body filling with molten heat. She was shaking all over, but not nearly as much as he was when she took him into her mouth. When she started moving her head he moaned against her, and the vibrations sent tiny shock waves shooting through her.
His response stoked hers, making her move faster, which drove him to increase the pressure and the intensity of what he was doing to her and she was fast spiralling out of control. She could feel the tension building inside her, the heat and pleasure winding tight and scrambling her senses, and she seemed to be in synch with him because he was now shifting his hips and thrusting into her mouth as she moved, and his breathing was hot and ragged against her.
Desire soared within her, igniting a desperate ache, and she was just about to reach a hand down to where his tongue was buried to hurry him along, when, as if able to read her mind, he held her still and thrust two fingers inside her and curled them so that they hit that exact spot, and that was it. She flew apart, her orgasm crashing into her, a white-hot burst of pleasure spinning through her like a Catherine wheel. And as stars whirled round her head she took him deep, and with a harsh groan he grabbed her head, tensed and then pulsated hard, spilling into her mouth until neither of them had anything left.
Feeling utterly drained, Georgie eased herself off him and flopped back, lying top to tail against him while waiting for her heartbeat to regulate.
‘God, we’re good at this,’ she said when she had enough breath to speak.
Finn rolled onto his side, and regarded her, his gaze dark and glittering and his face flushed. ‘Just think how much better we could be with a bit of practice.’
A sharp shiver raced through her, electrifying her nerve endings all over again. ‘I don’t know if I’d survive.’
The smile he gave her was slow and full of wicked promise. ‘Oh, you’ll survive.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
THEY PRACTISED A LOT, and got so good that a week later Georgie thought it was just as well that the walls were soundproofed. Finn was very inventive and, as she’d suspected, he knew things to do with positions and accessories and devices that she’d never even seen before, let alone deployed.
He just had to look at her and she became flushed and aroused. Every night as soon as Josh had been put to bed—indecently soon, actually—Finn took her hand and led her into the nearest bedroom, where they stayed until either day broke or their son woke. She’d lost count of how many orgasms she’d had and she was fast becoming addicted to the things he could do to her.
She wasn’t just surviving the way he handled her body, she was thriving on it, as the entries in her diary detailed, which only went to show that oxytocin and dopamine and the endorphins that accompanied them really were good for the brain. And if something was occasionally missing, if she sometimes felt a bit hollow on her way down from the bliss and sort of wished she could have all of him, well, that was the compromise she just had to make, in the same way that all this lovely nocturnal activity came at the cost of the conversation she’d been so keen to encourage.
Her days now had structure and routine and she and Finn were getting on splendidly, and she had absolutely nothing to complain about. However, in the absence of stress and anxiety and sexual frustration, she found that now all she had to wonder about was if and when he was going to introduce her to his friends as promised. He’d shown no indication of it so far, and she couldn’t help wondering why not. They were in every night, so it wasn’t as if a hectic schedule prevented it. So was it something to do with
her, then? With their situation? Or did he see her as unfit for anywhere other than the bedroom?
There was only one way to find out.
‘So when am I going to meet your friends?’ she asked him one night as they lay sprawled across his enormous bed, the moonlight streaking through the windows and bathing everything in a silvery glow. ‘It’s been weeks. Are you in some way ashamed of me?’
‘What?’ he replied, his words muffled by the pillow he’d flopped onto only moments ago. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
Hmm. That wasn’t exactly an answer. ‘Don’t get me wrong,’ she said, trying to keep her voice light, ‘your attention is very flattering but a girl could get a complex.’ Especially a girl like her, with anxieties and insecurities that she knew could pop up at any time.
‘She shouldn’t.’
‘She might.’
He turned his head to the side and levelled her with a long, hot look. ‘Really?’