Out of Line (Out of Line #1)(31)
Author: Jen McLaughlin

“I’m not,” I said quickly, grabbing his hand and holding it to my cheek. “I’m fine. I want you so bad it hurts.”

His jaw flexed, but I could see his answering need in his eyes. “I shouldn’t.”

“You should.”

“Carrie…” He closed his fingers on my hips, lifting me up and lowering me on his lap so I straddled him.

“Oh my God.” His erection pressed against my core, making me moan. I entwined my hands behind his neck, the cool metal of his dog tags digging in to my skin. He hadn’t even taken them off before seeking me out. “You really should, Finn.”

He made a long sound, half groan and half agreement. “I can’t fight this anymore. I don’t even want to.”

And with that, he buried his hands in my hair and tugged me down, his mouth seeking mine. For that brief second, the time that our mouths hovered close to each other, I knew I hadn’t made a mistake in falling for him. I had fallen hard, and there was no going back.

His lips touched mine and all thought fled. All I knew was Finn was kissing me, and things finally felt right. And this time when he kissed me, he held nothing back. I knew it from the way his lips moved over mine. His mouth devoured mine hungrily, and he arched up against me, letting his erection rub where I needed him most. I dug my fingernails into his shoulders, holding him closer.

Begging him not to leave with my actions instead of my words. If he pulled away now, I didn’t think I would recover. If he stopped now, I just might break. But he didn’t. Instead, he stood up and cupped my butt, holding me in place as he headed toward the bedroom. Slowly, he lowered me to his bed, never breaking off the kiss.

My head spun as his lips worked mine, making everything but him disappear from my mind. The way he kissed me. How amazing his hands felt on my body. The feel of the soft bed underneath my back, contrasting with his hard body on top of mine. Pressing me down and making me want more.

Tentatively, I ran my fingers down his back, sliding them up his shirt when I reached the hem. His hot skin burned my fingers, and the way he moaned into my mouth set me afire. I traced my nails down his spine, growing bolder the lower I went. When I reached the waistband of his shorts, I scraped my nails against his lower back.

He hissed and tore his mouth from mine. “Are you sure you want this?”

Unable to talk, I nodded and reached for him again. He stretched and ripped his shirt off over his head, and then melded his mouth back to mine. His free hand, with the other firmly on my hip, roamed all over. My sides. My stomach. My neck. When he traced the curve of my breast, I gasped into his mouth and arched my back.

He needed to do that again.

Apparently I said that out loud. He chuckled. “I will.”

“Please,” I whimpered.

Slowly, he crept my shirt over my stomach, stopping at the bottom of my bra. I caught my breath, afraid to move. Afraid if I made a sound, he would grow a conscience again and stop doing those magical things to me. He met my eyes, his own hot and unwavering. “Have you kissed Cory again?”

“W-What?” I asked, caught off guard.

“Since you kissed me, have you kissed him?” he asked, his jaw ticking.

I shook my head. “No. Of course not. Just the once.”

“Good.” He lifted my shirt a little bit more, his fingers brushing my bare skin, never dropping my gaze. “You’re mine now. Don’t forget it.”

I swallowed hard at the possessiveness in his tone. I should argue or say I didn’t belong to any man. Assert my independence. But right now? Right here? I was his. One hundred percent his, and perfectly happy to be there. “I won’t. Now kiss me again.”

He took off my shirt the rest of the way and closed his mouth over mine. As he worked his magic with his tongue, his fingers toyed with the strap of my bra, tugging gently. Before I could even blink, he had the strap undone and was lowering the tiny scrap of fabric off my br**sts. For a second, I worried he might not like what he saw. Worried I would disappoint him somehow.

But he reared back and looked down at me…and I was lost. He was seeing what no man had ever seen before. I didn’t want to hide from him. Didn’t want to deny him a single thing. Not tonight. I let my hands fall to my sides. He swallowed so hard I could see it, and then traced a finger over my bare stomach, creeping closer and closer to my left breast.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he uttered, almost as if he didn’t realize he said it out loud.

Before I could respond, or even decide if I should respond, he lowered his head to my breast, flicking his tongue over my sensitive nipple. “Finn,” I cried out. I gripped his head, urging him closer. Needing him closer.

His slid his hands under my back, arching my back for me. I bent one leg, spreading my thighs to let him in. Knowing instinctively that he needed to be there to ease the ache building inside me, begging for release. He moved into the crook of my thighs, but didn’t press his erection against me. Instead, he scraped his teeth against my nipple and sucked harder.

“I-I need you.” I licked my lips and added, “Please.”

His hands trembled as he let go of me and undid my pants. I lifted my hips, letting him undress me, and didn’t so much as flinch as he lowered them down my legs. When he reached for my panties, I grabbed his hand and swallowed the nervous bubble of laughter threatening to escape me.

I might be a virgin, but I knew what came next. And before I was completely naked, things needed to get taken care of. “Do you have protection?”

He pushed off the bed and opened the nightstand next to it, pulling out a purple foil package. He tossed it onto the bed and made quick work of removing his shorts. When he ripped off his boxers, I didn’t drop my gaze from his body. If he saw my shyness and my uncertainty, he might back down. As it was, he surely thought I was more experienced than I was.

I knew if he knew I was a virgin, this wouldn’t be happening.

As he stepped out of the last piece of clothing he wore, I feasted my eyes on him. Tattoos covered his upper arms and shoulders. That I already knew. But his lower half was devoid of any ink. In a way, I was glad. The perfection of his body was an artwork all by itself, and I couldn’t help but think any more ink would detract from the muscle and flawlessness I saw right now.

When my gaze dropped to his penis, I practically choked on the deep breath I took. No matter how many romance books I read, I hadn’t been expecting that much length. Holy crap. No romance book could ever have prepared me for this. He was magnificent.