Filthy (Five Points' Mob Collection #1) - Serena Akeroyd Page 0,51

troubled me, and though it was dumb, I shoved them aside. I hadn’t meant to think on things that couldn’t be changed, but I wondered so much about the boy who’d left this neighborhood all those years ago and who had been forged into the man who fucked me senseless at night.

Just thinking of what he did to me was enough to make me rock my hips.

I was alone, of course.

Finn never took me here. He collected me in his car—either with him, or just Samuel behind the wheel—and we went to his place.

I wasn’t about to argue over spending time there. It was a delight. Comfortable and homey, even if I had seen a man tied and bound there as though it was as regular a sight as a vase in the corner or a dining nook.

Not even that thought was enough to ease the ache inside me.

I was naked under the sheets. After a lifetime of sleeping in PJs, I no longer liked the feel of them against my skin. On the nights when I wasn’t with Finn—only three of the past twenty days—I’d taken to stripping before bed.

It felt deliciously naughty and with my breath hiccoughing from my mouth, I slid my hand between my legs to touch my clit. The soreness was still there. Finn fucked me hard, and he fucked me soft, but when he was done with me, I was like a limp rag. I loved it, but when would I build up some stamina?

Before I could grumble, I gently rubbed my clit. I never rubbed it like Finn did. Could never seem to get the same friction, but I tried.

In fact, I tried so hard, I began to sweat under the sheets.

Shoving them down, aware that my breasts were on display, I swallowed thickly and tried to give myself a release that Finn pumped from me so easily.

By the time I was a panting wrecked mess on the sheets, I’d given up. My body ached, this time from need, and Finn had told me not to expect a call from him today. It was church and family time, and I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised by that knowing what little I did of the O'Donnellys.

When a knock sounded at the door, I stilled.

It was probably Jenny, and I really didn’t want to see her in this state. Ignoring the knock, I strained to hear if her heels clacked against the hall floor—yeah, the walls were that thin. Except they didn’t. I heard bupkis. A louder knock came, and Finn growled out, “Aoife.”

His voice sent molten shivers through me.

He was here, and I was a hot, needy mess.

Seriously, had God answered my prayers or what?

I jumped out of bed and dragging the top sheet free, I rolled it around myself and hurried out. He knocked again, this time sounding more impatient, but I unlocked it and giving him no time to take in my disheveled state, I grabbed his hand, dragged him inside, then shut the door and locked it behind him.

My hands were at his belt before I knew what I was doing.

I needed his cock. I needed his fingers. I needed the release he could give me.

I’d managed to pull his belt free, and I was scrabbling with his zipper when he grabbed my wrists and yanked them over head. With no support, the sheet fell to the ground and with those cool eyes of his, he traced my body from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

“Didn’t I work you over well enough last night?” he asked, and I could hear a mixture of amusement and surprise in his voice. “I thought you’d be too sore to fuck until Tuesday.”

“I am,” I rasped.

That had him tilting his head to the side, then as he stared at me, took me in properly—the heaving breasts, the flushed skin, the feverish eyes—his mouth flattened. “You touched yourself.”

I licked my suddenly dry lips, and, feeling like a naughty girl, I dipped my chin. “Y-Yes, Finn. I’m s-sorry, Finn.”

He growled at me. “Which one is your bedroom?”

I pointed to it and then shrieked as he picked me up as if I weighed nothing—trust me, I did—and carried me over to my room.

“Naughty girls don’t get to come,” he warned me, but I saw my bed, saw it and knew what he’d do to me in it.

Surely, when he was inside me, he’d forget this. Forget what I’d done.

I was panting, ravenous