Let Me: An O'Brien Family Novel (The O'Brien Family Book 2) (19 page)

Read Let Me: An O'Brien Family Novel (The O'Brien Family Book 2) Online

Authors: Cecy Robson

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #New Adult & College, #Sports

BOOK: Let Me: An O'Brien Family Novel (The O'Brien Family Book 2)
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I meant to put it on a credit card, but Wren beat me to it, paying cash. When I tried to protest, she shook her head. “It’s on Finn. He told me to buy you anything you wanted.”

The gesture left me speechless. Finn has paid for dinner, movies, that sort of thing. For someone as proud as me though, even that has been hard to accept. But Wren wouldn’t take no for an answer, and the boutique owner liked the idea of cash. She encouraged Wren when she dragged me to the fitting room to change into what has to be the most stylish dress I’ll ever own.

“Have I told you how sexy you look?” he mutters in my ear as we wait for the elevator.

“No,” I murmur. I smile as my arms circle his waist. He didn’t tell me, but the way his eyes flew open when he saw me return to the press conference assured me he liked my new clothes.

“Well, you do,” he assures me. “What I didn’t like was how those assholes were looking at you when you danced.”

I tilt my chin so I can see his face. “I didn’t notice them. I was too busy watching my hot boyfriend.”

A smirk finds its way into his face. “Even with the bruises?”

“Yes,” I answer, even though it was hard watching him receive them.

Following a quick shower, and before he met with the press, Finn changed into a dress shirt and slacks. His camp is trying to give him a more professional persona following the incident that landed him in counseling. But even without these fancier clothes Finn is gorgeous.

His hands slip beneath my coat. “Did you have fun?”

“I did,” I admit, despite that this lifestyle is very much new to me.

Following dinner with his family, we attended a small after-party thrown at a club by his sponsor Lethal Punch. Rather than cling to Finn the entire time like I wanted to, I danced with his family and his friends’ wives. MMA is a business, but also a circus in itself. It was almost midnight when his fight started, and while he won his match incredibly fast, it was almost two in the morning when we finally sat down to eat.

It’s nice being in A.C. with Finn and his family like this, regardless of the fast-pace. Or should I say, it’s a blessing to feel
normal
, to have fun and pretend like my life isn’t as bad as it’s been. Yet as much as I’m enjoying our time together, I can’t help feeling guilty. For all I want to support Finn, it cost me experiencing my mother’s moment of clarity. I only pray she allows me a glimpse of it soon. I want my mother back. Is it too much to ask to see her as she once was, even for a little while?

“You okay, sunshine?” Finn asks as we step into the elevator.

I nod, trying to smile. This is his night, a moment to celebrate his victory and his hard work, not a time for me to dwell on my problems or wonder what awaits me when I return to reality. I push up on my toes and kiss his chin. “Of course. I’m here with you.”

It’s my last remark that adds to my grin, drawing Finn closer and tempting him to play. His hands trail down to my butt as the doors shut, circling and reminding me that our night is far from over.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asks.

He caught enough in my expression to know my mind had wandered elsewhere. But like I mentioned, I won’t take anything away from his night. He’s earned every bit of good that’s happening, and all that’s left to come.

My fingers glide along his temple. The multiple bruises swelling his cheekbones and jaw, keep my motions gentle, but the love I feel is completely there. “You weren’t supposed to let anything happen to this face,” I remind him.

“I told you I wouldn’t be able to keep that promise,” he says. “But I kept the one that mattered and won the fight.”

He did, and he was incredible to watch. Each strike seemed so effortless, despite the power he packed behind every punch. That didn’t make watching any easier, but it did add to my awe of him.

“Still like the face?” he asks as my fingers linger over his skin.

“I like everything about you,” I confess, the seriousness in my tone dulling his humor. Maybe I said too much. Sometimes I think I do. It’s almost as if how I feel is more than he can take, or believe he deserves. Perhaps I shouldn’t be so open. But with Finn, my emotions take on a life of their own, despite how I initially tried to keep him at arm’s length.

The floor numbers increase as the elevator shoots up. I rest my head against his chest. It sounds so cliché to say, “I’ve never felt this way before”, but I haven’t. Finn is everything to me, and my only desire is to be his everything in return.

He cups my backside, pausing when he feels my bare flesh beneath the fabric of my dress. “You’re not wearing panties, are you?” he asks, his tone a low growl against my ear.

Although it’s a question, it’s like he’s pleading with me to tell him yes. “It’s a thong,” I answer quietly.

“The red one with the lace?” he asks.

I may not have bought any new clothes to wear to A.C., but I did splurge a little on lingerie. “You’ll find out soon enough,” I promise.

“Jesus,” he mumbles, gripping me tighter.

His hands travel beneath my skirt, tracing circles from my outer thighs dangerously close to the center. It’s then I inch away, my body heating, but not because I’m embarrassed. I want him so much my flesh aches for him.

He follows me into the corner, curling against me. “Just getting you back,” he says, his blue eyes flashing in a way that means trouble.

I laugh. Okay. Maybe I deserve that.

We haven’t had sex in three days. Three
freaking
days. As superstitious as it sounds, Finn’s a big believer in “not messing around before a fight”. His words. Not mine. Certainly not mine.

I seriously thought he was joking, or beginning to lose interest, until he brought me down to Atlantic City with him and still wouldn’t touch me!

I was kind of a brat about the whole thing, parading in our room naked every chance I had, lounging across the bed or chair in a way that had him cursing or rushing to take a cold shower.

“You haven’t been very nice to me,” he says against my mouth, thinking back to the way I’ve teased him.

“Mmm,” I agree nodding thoughtfully. “I suppose I have a lot of making up to do.”

“Damn straight,” he says. Before he can kiss me, the elevator doors ding open.

I don’t expect Finn to be romantic, and he doesn’t disappoint. He tosses me over his shoulder and smacks my butt, making me laugh. That’s totally us, always playing, always laughing. Some may see it as immature, but to me it’s sweet and fun, reminding me how young we both are despite the very mature problems we face.

He stomps down the hall, effortlessly carrying me. “You have no class, tough guy,” I tell him, still laughing.

“True,” he admits. “But you like what I have and are really going to like what I have to show you.”

I don’t doubt for a moment, and again he doesn’t disappoint. He throws the door to our room open, smacking the security lock in place half a second before he crushes me against the wall with his body. His erection punches against my belly. Our kiss is deep, raw, passionate, the exact same way I’ve wanted him to kiss me all night.

I tug off his jacket and work on the buttons of his dress shirt when his fingers slip beneath my thong and deep inside of me. The motion is so smooth and arousing, I break our kiss, craning my neck and moaning. He curses, his breath coming fast as he nibbles my throat. “You’re ready for me, aren’t you, beautiful?” he asks.

My whimpering keeps me from answering, and so do the words that come next. “Do you know how bad I’ve needed to be inside you?”

He doesn’t expect me to answer, not with how fast his fingers are circling, but my gasps and my rocking pelvis are enough. He yanks off my coat just as my hands finish shoving down his pants.

I cry out in total bliss as Finn shoves aside my thong and pushes his thick erection between my legs, each press of his hips stretching me slowly until he fills me. He pauses long enough to secure my ankles behind his back and for his heated stare to lock on mine. “Hang on,” he says, ramming his hips upward.

My nails dig into his shoulders as he withdraws slowly and thrusts hard, each fierce push increasing in speed and intensity. My back smacks against the wall, the sound adding to the moment, but nowhere as loud as my screams that beg him for more.

The force of his movements come faster. Finn yanks the top of my dress down, his hot mouth finding my nipple and sucking hard. I clutch him against me, my hips struggling to keep up with his increasing rhythm and my body succumbing to his.

It doesn’t take me long to peak, nor does it take him long to finish―not after how long it’s been since we’ve made love. That doesn’t mean we’re done. Oh, no, there’s too much time we need to make up for.

He lowers me to the floor, allowing my breasts to slide along his chest. As he watches and finishes stripping out of his clothes, I back away, pulling off my dress, tugging down my tiny hot pink thong, and unsnapping the bra now clinging to my waist. The shoes, those I leave on.

Finn kicks away his briefs, prowling forward and hardening as he makes his way to where I wait by the bed. My nipples are so taught they sting. I can’t even think straight, reaching for him and finding his mouth, eager for his kiss and more of his touch.

I nip his chin as my hands lower to rub his length. Never have I had a lover like Finn. It’s so
easy
for me to desire him, to want to please him, to let him take me. It’s not a chore or something expected. It’s something I hunger for, the taste of his skin so delicious against my tongue.

I allow him to lead us, my trust something he seeks and equally turns him on.

He tugs on my bottom lip with his teeth and positions us at the edge of the bed, in front of the mirror anchored above the dresser. I almost expect him to bend me over. Instead he sits, spreading my legs open and pulling me forward so I’m hovered over his lap.

My back is against his chest, giving us a very nice view of our reflection. Without needing to ask, I lower myself down, placing my hands on my knees to keep my balance as he rubs his silky head against my folds.

My body shudders as he guides me down slowly. This position is new to me, the fit tighter. I arch my back, scrunching my face and releasing a moan as he fills me once more.

I open my eyes, releasing a shudder. The tense angle of his jaw demonstrates his need to pump into me. But he doesn’t want to hurt me. That doesn’t mean I’m not more than ready for us to begin.

My shoulders tremble as I slide against his lap, the ecstasy I feel coiling around my lower half and clenching my muscles. I withdraw, slowly before pushing him back inside me, my leisurely pace causing me to feel every part of him and making me grunt.

As I make another pass, I lift my chin to look at Finn, hoping he likes what I’m doing and pleased at what I find. His expression is one of agonized bliss. “Does it feel good, baby?” he asks.

“Yes,” I bite out, my eyelids fluttering when I realize how easily this position reaches my G spot.

Finn’s fingers dig into my hips, his chin falling forward to rest on my shoulder. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he says, gasping. He lifts his head, pegging our reflections with one hell of a glance. “This is how I want to watch you come.”

My body quivers from his words and my need to move faster. I glide forward and back, whimpering with each sweep of my hips.

With a sharp swear, Finn snaps his head back. My head lolls forward as that familiar ache builds with my increasing speed. It feels so good, I have trouble focusing and maintaining my pace. He clasps my hips, keeping us going. My chest heaves in and out, my body shaking as my core grips him tight.

“Touch yourself,” he tells me, his raspy tone lowering.

It’s something I’ve never felt comfortable doing before Finn. But he unleashes my feral side, the one that thrives on pleasing him. My hand slips between my legs as his arm curls around my waist. I force myself to augment our speed, clenching my teeth and trying not to full out scream as I writhe against him.

Our eyes appear closed in the mirror, but I know better. We’re both watching, we both like what we see, and we’re both losing control. Something this hot shouldn’t appear so beautiful. Yet the way Finn’s hands pass against the swells of my breasts, the curves of my body, and the way they thread through my hair, it is beautiful. He may whisper dirty words, he may groan with how good it feels, but it’s the way we come alive that proves we’re making and sharing love.

This time when I finish, I can’t keep my balance―not in these shoes and certainly not from the force of our passion. I stumble forward, every inch of me hot and electrified.

Finn hooks his arm around me, catching me and keeping us together as he guides me forward. He steadies me against the dresser, pumping fast as I grip the edge. Another orgasm builds inside me, causing me to fall limp against the slick wood as he finishes filling me.


Fuck
,” he gasps, collapsing almost on top of me. 

It’s like he can’t believe what happened or how hot it was. Not that I blame him. It’s like that with Finn, every time is almost like our first time, the need to please each other overwhelming our senses.

I push my crazy hair out of my face, watching as he nuzzles my neck and trails sweet kisses along my heated skin.

“I love you,” I want to say. But I don’t. I don’t want him to think this feeling stems solely from the physical part of our relationship, so I promised myself I wouldn’t tell him anymore in bed. That doesn’t mean I don’t want him to say it.

If it’s how he feels.

It takes some time before either of us move, both of us struggling to keep somewhat vertical and catch our breaths. Finally, I shift my hips, resulting in both of us groaning, but smiling a little, too. There’s nothing quite like that ache that follows sex with Finn. It gives me chills, reigniting my desire and making me want to beg him for more.

His palms rest on either side of me, his shoulders rising and falling with each profound breath. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks.

“No,” I answer truthfully. But I really want to.

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