The Secrets She Must Tell - Lucy King Page 0,35
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