by Elaria Ride
Maybe someday, I’ll be able get over the whole ordeal. But seeing Mike shacked up with that type has only made things worse.
Finn turns to face me, something fierce and open in his eyes.
“To be honest?” he asks, and I nod in encouragement, hanging on his every word. Finn leans in closer as his voice drops several decibels. I can tell whatever he’s about to say is something important — something he hasn’t told many people.
His face flushes, but his eyes never waver from mine. “It was hard for me to get it up for her.”
Oh.
I feel myself exhale as my eyes widen.
“Seriously?” I breathe, not quite sure if I’m more turned on or disbelieving.
He gives me a curt nod. “Yeah.”
And because I love to press my luck, I lean in, accentuating my cleavage. I see him swallow, but this time I don’t force his eyes to go anywhere else. Even though we’re in the middle of a restaurant, even though we’re technically in public, even though anyone could stumble upon us at any time… I can’t help what I ask next.
“What about me, Finn?” I purr, content to let him eye me as much as he wants. “Have you ever had issues…getting it up for me?”
I know it’s a ridiculous question — especially since we’d only formally met this morning. But it’s one of those things I need confirmation on. If only to prove a point.
His answer is automatic.
“Fuck no,” he growls, his eyes still trained on my chest, and I giggle. It’s almost like my breasts have a mesmeric effect. A thrill of pleasure runs through me at the thought that he actually can’t look away… not that I’d make him.
In retrospect, there could have been many contributing factors to blame for what I choose to do next. Maybe it’s the wine hitting my system. Maybe it’s the emboldening power of Finn’s stare. Maybe it’s all the crazy experiences I’ve had over the past 12 hours.
But whatever the reason, I’m possessed to stare Finn in the eye and wriggle my ass against the seat as a filthy question falls from my lips.
“Are you hard for me?” I ask, knowing that this will force my breasts to sway back and forth. I’m rewarded with a low moan.
“You don’t even know the half of it,” he admits, and his voice has taken on that low, graveled timbre I know so well.
“So tell me.” I arch an eyebrow in challenge, my voice scarcely above a whisper.
Finn opens his mouth, and I know — just know — that whatever he’s about to confess is both embarrassing… and a little hot.
“I’ve been thinking about you while I touch myself for months.”
The words leave him in a mortified rush, said so quickly — so immediately — that I can tell he hadn’t planned on sharing them.
This is a suspicion soon confirmed when he sucks in a startled breath and finally rips his eyes from my chest.
“Fuck, Marina,” he groans, sliding a hand down his face. “I’m sorry, that probably sounds so— ”
I furrow my brow, startled.
Oh! He mistook my expression; he thinks I’m offended instead of turned on.
I’ll be happy to clarify that for him, but I still need an answer to how he’d managed to masturbate to me. As far as I know, we’d only met this morning.
“What do you mean?”
Finn pauses, and I can tell he’s debating whether or not he’s going to scare me off by revealing the next part. There’s a heavy silence.
“Finn,” I intone, a hint of annoyance creeping into my tone, “I’d really like to know— ”
“— I saw you working at the other location,” he blurts, cutting across me.
Oh. I sit up a bit straighter. Ok. That’s certainly less creepy than outright spying on me…
It doesn’t seem Finn agrees with my assessment, though. The flush that had just been on his face has now extended down to his neck and chest.
“And I just…” He lets out a low whistle. “I just…thought you were so fucking hot. Everything about you.”
He shudders and finishes his glass of wine. “So I’ve been… thinking about you. For a long time.”
Finn looks mortified to have revealed that — and on a first date, no less — but I couldn’t possibly be any further from embarrassment or shame. I release a startled whimper and rub my thighs together.
It seems my body has decided for me; I’m definitely more turned on than disturbed. The thought of him thinking about me while he runs his hands over that big, thick cock…
“How long?” I breathe. I suddenly feel this is something I absolutely need to know.
Finn rakes his eyes up over my body again; he’s probably pleasantly surprised he hasn’t already sent me running for the hills.
“Three months.”
Fuck… I barely suppress a whimper as I shift in my seat. He’s been thinking about me and touching himself?
For three months?
I swallow, filled with rage over the fact that we’re in a restaurant — and not somewhere I can rip his clothes off. He seems to be on the same page, because he’s staring right back at me, his eyes heavy-lidded and darkened with lust.
Then, with the same impulsivity that spurred me to make out with my boss the first day on the job, I lean forward as far as I can in my seat until my breasts are shoved beneath my arms. While Finn’s distracted, I toe off one of my heels. It drops to the ground so softly I’m sure he doesn’t hear it.
I’ve never done this… but for some reason, being with Finn makes me feel like an expert. I inch my leg forward, but Finn’s still transfixed as I press my arms further beneath my chest.
Yes… he’s very turned on.
When I begin inching my foot up the interior of his trouser leg, he initially pulls back, a little alarmed. I quirk an eyebrow, but I don’t remove the pressure of my stockinged foot against his leg. He breathes heavily, his eyes darting to my face… and then he gives me an almost imperceptible nod.
And with that, I know he wants this as much as I do.
I grin wickedly as I trail my foot higher up his pant leg, swirling and stretching until I reach the very sizable bulge in his trousers. Is it normal, for a guy to get that hard again that fast? I don’t know, but it’s not something I’m choosing to think about much, not while Finn is panting and breathing heavily and staring at me with those heavy-lidded eyes.
I unabashedly meet his gaze, continuing to swirl and press with the tip of my toe. Shit. I swallow; I can feel him getting harder. I didn’t think it was possible, but he’s getting even more erect beneath my ministrations. Suddenly, his hands come up to clench either side of the table.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he’s close. His face is red, there’s a vein throbbing in the side of his face, and all the while I continue easing my foot up and down that hard, thick cock.
But there’s one thing I hadn’t factored into my plans — and I soon realize that this, right here, will be my undoing: I hadn’t considered that this would turn me on, too.
Even though I’m providing Finn with this much pleasure, I’m squirming in my seat, my soaking pussy rubbing against my panties. Shit. Why does being in control turn me on this much?!
Finn gives a strangled choke from across the table, and I know he’s close, teetering right on the edge. But making him come in his pants twice in one day is a little cruel, even for me. Especially in his brother’s restaurant. Especially when his brother is expecting some… shenanigans. Especially because I’m beyond confident that Sylvie has already shared the details of our earlier encounter far and wide.
So I do something that’s both insanely torturous and inordinately kind: I drop my foot to the ground. And sit up in my seat.
Finn huffs in a mixture of frustration and relief and fixes me with a bewildered stare.
“Sorry,” I say through a grin. I’m well aware I don’t exactly sound apologetic; he’ll thank me later, though. That much I’m sure of.
Finn’s about to open his mouth to ask
— but then he turns to me, wide-eyed. The sound of approaching footsteps reaches our table. In unison, we sit up in our seats, clear our throats and act (for all the world) like we’ve simply been enjoying pleasant conversation.
When Harrison pulls open the curtain a few seconds later, our faces are still flushed with arousal… but at least Finn doesn’t have a damp stain on the front of his trousers. It could always be worse, I suppose.
Harrison makes a minor comment about our appearances, but doesn’t say too much — for which I’m grateful. He must’ve heard enough from Sylvie to realize it really had been an embarrassing circumstance the first time around.
Harrison brings out our main courses, but Finn and I scarf them down in such a rush we’re scarcely aware of what we’re eating. We’re both so turned on, so aroused, so desperate to feel each other again…
We rise from the table less than 15 minutes later, having polished off two courses in record time. I’m antsy, frustrated, as I allow Finn to attend to all the rituals he loves so much (opening the curtain for me, getting my shawl).
But as Finn steps forward to pay for the check, a wicked little thought occurs to me. I gaze at his huge, muscular form, at the poorly concealed bulge in his dark denim pants, the one he’s doing his best to hide with his jacket.
Yes, I decide. I will have a little fun with this. After all, Finn’s certainly been into the whole… control aspect of this relationship, no? I know my body is more than ready for him — and perhaps I’ll regret this — but I think I’m going to play a little game.
Finn opens the door for me as we step outside, and the look on his face tells me he thinks he’s going to get lucky again quite soon. That wicked little grin graces my face again. He’s got another thing coming.
So to speak.
When we reach the car, he opens my door and hoists me up, his hands lingering on my ass. He arches an eyebrow and leans in, and I can tell he thinks it’s going to be that easy… that what I’d started in the restaurant will reach a satisfying end, just like that.
But he doesn’t know who he’s messing with.
“Finn,” I drawl, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Yes?” he replies, nibbling on my pulse point.
Mmm, he’s good at that.
I pull back before I allow myself to get too excited, but he’s just staring at me quizzically.
Good.
“You were a bad boy,” I purr, pulling back to stare him in the face. If my words alarm him, he doesn’t act like it; instead, he just moans and presses himself against me so insistently that I can feel the swell of his cock on my stomach. That alone gives me the confidence to finish what I started.
“You came without my permission for so long,” I explain, my tone slow and pedantic.
He moans at my words as I trail a finger down his chest.
My eyes snap back up to his, and I can feel that wicked grin splitting my face again as I deliver his instructions… ones I know that he will follow, beyond a shadow of a doubt.
“So you are not going to come again,” I say clearly, enunciating every single word. “Until I give you permission.”
8
Finn
I can barely concentrate at work the next day.
And Marina knows it, because she’d started it the second I’d walked in the door.
Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have complained about seeing someone who looks like her at 9 AM, but being in charge of a company makes these things a tad more professional than I’d like.
Her glorious ass had been first thing to greet me when I’d stepped into the tasting room. She’d been arched over the cash register as she wiped it down, her entire lower half hoisted into the air. Somehow I’d forgotten how adorably short she is, but I’d been quickly reminded at the sight of her legs dangling in the air as her ass swayed from side to side.
It had taken all of my strength to bite back a moan. The tight fit of her jeans proved there was no way she was wearing panties — or at least, not ones that covered her entire ass.
Fuck.
My own jeans had been uncomfortably tight, but I’d somehow managed to clear my throat to inform Marina of my presence. Of course, I needn’t have worried; she’d obviously known I was there, known that I’d be the one to walk in and see her, because she’d just hopped down from the counter with a sultry wink.
I’d tried very hard to ignore the way she’d bounced while walking towards me, but I’d figured pretty quickly that she was doing it on purpose. This was a theory soon confirmed as she’d pressed herself up against me, allowing her magnificent breasts to graze my chest. I hadn’t been able to bite back a groan, not that time.
We’d stared at each other for a few charged, heated seconds… but then, right when I’d been about to pull her in closer, to let her feel how much she was affecting me, she’d stepped back with that coy, self-satisfied smirk and simply whispered, “See you at lunch.”
And before I’d been able to stop her — to ask any questions at all — she’d just turned on her heel and headed towards the store room instead. As I’d grunted in frustration at her retreating form, I could have sworn I’d heard a little giggle carried through the air.
Minx.
I’d then retreated to my office with a raging hard-on, where I’ve remained the entirety of the day. Paperwork has been sitting in front of me for at least three hours, but every time I turn to a spreadsheet, all I can see is the denim-clad cheeks of her ass as she’d rubbed it on my crotch, right on this desk surface… all I can hear is her breathy moans as she’d coaxed me to climax.
And damn, if that memory alone hasn’t been compelling (and hot) enough for me to agree to her terms…
Needless to say, when she finally decides to stroll in at 12:30, it’s a welcome interruption.
She opens the door without knocking; a far cry from our first interaction, if I say so myself.
“Hey!” I squeak as I see her face, my voice a little more animated and relieved than I’d like.
But Marina doesn’t seem to mind. She just laughs and closes the door behind her.
Yeah. I swallow. She definitely knows what she’s doing to me.
Marina slowly saunters around the desk until she’s facing me, and confidently slams her hands down on either side of my chair. With an arched eyebrow, she leans over just enough for me to get a glimpse of those perfect breasts, the ones I’d feasted on yesterday.
On instinct, I reach out a hand to caress them through her shirt before I’m reminded of my place in this whole interaction.
“No,” she says sharply, slapping my hand away. “Honestly, Finn, have you learned nothing?”
I moan and lean back in my chair. The look on her face tells me she has me exactly where I need to be.
And I’ll be damned if she’s wrong.
“Guess not?” I ask sheepishly.
Marina leans forward even more until her breasts are nearly spilling out of that top. Fuck, from this tiniest little glimpse, my cock is aching, pulsating hard against the seam of my jeans with the need for release.
Well, if I can’t touch her, the least I can do is adjust this. It’s been downright painful for hours, and her presence has only made things worse. I reach a hand down to move myself around in my pants, dying for the tiniest bit of relief…
But it’s clear she won’t have any of that, either; in an instant, she reaches out and slaps the hand that’s working my crotch.
“Uh, did I say you could do that?” she demands. To anyone else, her tone would seem indignant, even offended.
But now that I know Marina, I know better.
I tilt my chin up to face her. “No,” I admit, staring into her twinkling amber eyes, and I think I’d rather die, right in this moment, than stop playing her game.
She arches her eyebrow again, pleased. “That’s what I thought. Now.” She clears her throat, moving to stand. “For the rest of lunch, you’re going to do exactly what I say. When I say it.”
>
My question about what she means dies on my lips as she swiftly unbuttons her pants and shimmies them down over her hips.
I groan, vindicated; my earlier assessment had been correct.
She’s only wearing a g-string, one that’s a just tiny lacy little scrap of black fabric. I wait in aroused anticipation as she crosses her arms over her chest to remove her shirt… praying that maybe, just maybe, the bra matches…
Her shirt flutters to the floor, and I hear myself releasing a deep, primal grunt. All I’m able to do is stare, fixated, at those exposed fleshy mounds… ones that are covered with the same type of lace spanning the apex of her thighs.
I scarcely have time to consider that I’m the luckiest bastard alive before she takes two steps over to me. Then, without any hesitation, Marina grins and hoists herself into my lap. I gulp as she lifts her right leg onto the chair, then her left; she’s not the least bit self-conscious, even as she straddles me, even as nearly all of her perfect body is exposed.
I swallow and close my eyes, leaning my head back against the seat. I try desperately to avoid thinking about how my jeans and that scrap of lace are the only things separating me from that warmth of her center, that addictive place I’ve been craving since last night.
And fuck, when she’s this close, I can also smell her… I try my best to take deep breaths and pace myself, but it’s hard to ignore how ready she is.
Fuck. How the hell am I going to last long enough for her to get the pleasure she deserves if I’m already this turned on?
Marina doesn’t give me much time to contemplate that, though, because in the next instant she’s attacking my mouth with hers. I groan in acquiescence as her tongue parts my lips, raking across my teeth. My head spins. Shit. She possessively grips the sides of my face as she deepens the kiss, and I’ll be damned if I try to stop her.
