Hot Mess - Elise Faber Page 0,45

from the straps of her dress then reached for him again, one hand yanking at the bottom of his shirt, the other tugging at the tie around his neck. Yeah. Her using that strip of fabric to haul him closer, to angle his neck until his mouth reached hers was every bit as good as he’d imagined that morning on the deck.

But he wanted to be naked more.

So, he kissed her until his lungs screamed for oxygen, then he pulled back and ripped off his tie, made quick work of the buttons on his shirt before tossing it aside. His shoes hit the floor, followed by his socks and slacks. Then he turned back and . . . nearly swallowed his tongue.

While he’d been undressing, Shannon had one-upped him.

Her dress was off, crumpled to the side, and she was reaching for the clasp of a lacy black bra.

“Wait,” he said, snagging her hands, tugging them to her sides, wanting—no—needing to look. He didn’t know how he was able to function with all of the golden skin on display, the lights overhead showcasing every single curve and silken inch of her. “Fuck, Blue Eyes. You take my breath away.”

“Finn,” she whispered. “Please, come down here and stop staring at me.”

“You’re beautiful,” he said.

She blushed.

“Truly beautiful.”

“Stop.” But then she tugged him down on top of her, wrapped her legs around his waist, and kissed him. He turned himself over to the moment, knowing that he would have time to convince her to see her own beauty, that she’d grown leaps and bounds in confidence on her own over the last weeks, that the strength and self-assurance would continue to grow as time went on.

Her hand slipped down, under the waistband of his boxers and, yeah, that wasn’t happening, not if he wanted to last longer than a teenage boy.

He snagged her wrist, brought it to his mouth, flicked his tongue out. “Fuck, you taste good.” Then he reached for the cup of her bra, tugged it down, and nearly came from the sight of those dusky nipples, the soft globes of her breasts exposed and waiting for his mouth. She released a shaky breath, nipples tightening, and he bent, sucked one deep, reveling in her groan, the way she writhed against him, the sweetness of her skin on his tongue.

Fingers in his hair, nails biting against his scalp.

Moans in his ears.

He moved, kissing his way to the other side, nipping and soothing his way over her other breast, tracing her nipple with his tongue. She bucked, fingers tightening, and then he tugged himself loose, traced his mouth along her skin as he moved down and down and in between.

Lace torn and tossed to the side. Her labia parted to reveal the glistening, pink folds of her pussy, making his tongue ache, his mouth water, his cock harden to granite.

“Finn—”

She broke off on a long, loud groan when he pressed his lips to her and got to work.

Testing strokes to see what made her writhe, finding the right pressure, circling and dancing his tongue against her clit, falling into the rhythm that had her moaning as she catapulted up and over the edge of pleasure.

“Right—” She broke off. “No—” She reached down and tilted his head slightly to the side. “There.”

Never let it be said, he couldn’t take direction.

He stayed there. He stayed focused, using his tongue, his thumb, slipping a finger inside and working her pussy until he felt her stiffen beneath him, those hands coming back to his head, gripping his hair tight.

“Oh fuck,” she groaned and came apart on his tongue.

He ground his hips into the mattress, trying to control the raging need boiling inside him, trying to keep his promise that this night was for her, for slow, and slow didn’t include crawling up her body and planting himself deep inside her hot, wet pussy.

Not tonight. Not tonight. Not—

She released his hair, shoved him back, and crawled on top of him.

“Shan—”

“Shh.”

There was a crinkle and he glanced down to see she had produced a condom from somewhere. But before he could ask her how or tell her they didn’t need to do this tonight, the plastic square was torn open and she was rolling the latex sheath down his cock.

Just the feel of her fingers on him, the last of her still on his tongue, was enough that he almost came right then and there.

“Now, honey,” she murmured, “yeah?”

He nodded, unable to form words with her poised above him,