Page 103 of The Finish Line
Twenty minutes later, after sharing a joint, caramel apples setting, we cue up Halloween and take turns shoving popcorn into each other’s mouths. Amazed at the turn this day has taken, I study him through the flicker of tealights and the flashes of light from the movie. I watch him watch the slasher flick for the first time.
I’m his first girlfriend and his only love. The truth of that sinks in as I stroke his chest through his thermal.
Being a part of his firsts will never get old, no matter how big or small. It’s painfully obvious he’s missed a lot of living, and because of that, there’s a sort of innocence about him that’s still there, despite his age and the type of life he’s led up to this point. It wasn’t purposeful. It’s just how it happened. And the truth of that is so alluring that I can’t help but burrow deeper into him, pulling him closer to me.
He deserves this vacation just to be able to experience a little life without the club’s expectations. The same way he did in those short months we were together, but even then, he was working. He’s a free man now, and I’m determined to make it good for him. What he needs from me is so fucking simple. He needs me to assure him that it’s okay to live for himself, for his own happiness, because he doesn’t know what living is if he’s not doing it for someone else. It’s a habit I’ll be hard-pressed to break, even though it’s one of the most incredible things about him, but he’s suffered enough for it. And in truth, it seems an unbreakable habit seeing as how he’s done it most of his life.
But any small victory for me will be a sweet loss for him. However, in time, I will force him to make decisions based on what he wants—to be a little more selfish with his own needs. He runs his hand along the wings on my back as I press a kiss to his throat. His eyes dart to mine as the familiar serial killer track starts to play, his muscular arms tightening around me as he flicks his attention back to the screen and absently strokes me with his fingers.
Best Halloweenie ever.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cecelia
A little after midnight, I peek out of the bathroom and spot Tobias in his black boxers, perched against the headboard where he’s worked on his laptop since we came in from walking Beau. Shutting the door, I turn on the faucet and pull the box from beneath the bathroom cabinet where I tucked it away earlier. Tugging on the bow that binds it, I gather what I need and stuff it back beneath the sink before stripping and running juniper lotion over my skin. My nipples draw tight in anticipation as I redress, loading my toothbrush before scrubbing my teeth.
A thousand butterflies swirl in my stomach as I rinse my mouth and run my fingers through my hair. Checking my appearance one last time, I click off the light and open the door. Surveying him where he sits, I drink in every inch of his muscled body, pulse kicking up as my thirsty eyes devour him. His onyx hair is tousled. His sleek features are drawn tight in concentration as he types, intent on his task. His muscular forearms flex, lifting the pillow for a glimpse of the deeply etched V that starts at his hip. Wetness gathers between my legs as I linger in the doorway, growing thirstier by the second. It’s only when I move to stand at the end of the bed that he pauses his fingers over the keys, slowly lifting his eyes from the screen to where I stand. A hundred emotions flit through his smoldering eyes before they blaze over the negligee he bought for me years ago.
My belly dips when he slowly closes his laptop as I stand in wait, skin buzzing, heart thundering, as he adjusts himself on the mattress with his fists, edging to the end of the bed. In seconds, I’m between his spread legs as he presses his forehead against my stomach, running it back and forth along the silky material.
“Cecelia.” My name comes out strangled as he lifts his eyes to mine, setting my skin alight. Lifting his chin to rest on my stomach, he palms my calves in the gentlest of caresses before he slowly starts to work his way up.
“I was tempted so many times to throw it away,” I confess on a whisper. “I did once or twice—the bow has a ketchup stain on it,” I rasp out, his touch electrifying, sending goosebumps over my flesh, “but I never could bring myself to part with it.” I pluck his hair as he gazes up at me, his hands slowly working their way up as his fingers ghost along the back of my thighs. “I used to sleep in it on hard nights and tell myself that maybe if I wore it...” I struggle with the memory, “maybe it would be the night you came back for me. It’s... stupid, I know, but that’s how much I missed you.”
“Not stupid,” he whispers hoarsely, sliding his palms over the curve of my ass to find me bare. A soft curse leaves him as he strokes my skin, spreading wildfire throughout my humming body.
“Soft,” he murmurs, his palms lifting the material to bare me to him. “Sensual.” He bends, running his tongue along my slit. “Delicate,” he continues, repeating the words he seduced me with the first time he slipped the nightgown down my body. “Beautiful, so beautiful.” He draws me forward with beckoning hands, tilting my hips as he sucks the whole top of my pussy with fervor. His dark lashes flutter closed as he spreads me with an explorative tongue, whispering it over my throbbing clit.
“Tobias.” My needful moan fuels him, and he stands, gripping my face before crushing our mouths together. He licks into my mouth as I slide my palm down his muscled stomach. I match his thirsty licks, reaching into his boxers and grip his thick cock in my hand, rubbing the precum off the fat crown with my thumb.
His groan vibrates in my mouth as I squeeze him from root to tip. Hunger taking over, I break our kiss and drop to my knees, taking his boxers down as I go. Clawing his ass, I grip him firmly, flicking my eyes up to his before licking my lips and taking him to the back of my throat.
“Putain.” Fuck. He fists my hair in an effort to control me as I go feral, taking him in deeper, choking on his girth as saliva dangles from my lips.
“Cecelia,” he hisses as I suck his veined length to the thick head before again diving, my eyes never straying from his. It’s when I start to leisurely explore, licking along the side of his massive shaft that he snaps and jerks me from my knees. In a flash, I’m pinned to the bed by his kiss alone as he dips his thick fingers between my thighs, stretching them to ready me. And in the next breath, he’s on his back, lifting me easily before positioning me to straddle his face, his tongue plunging into me with meticulous licks as he grips my wrists, pinning them to the tops of my thighs.
Lust takes over as he devours me, his tongue assaulting while keeping me at his mercy. I feel every single thrust as he eats me, his groan vibrating my lower half before he finally releases my hands.
“Lift,” he orders, and I do, tilting forward to prop on my palms on the mattress. He adjusts me to hover where he wants me before using his fingers and tongue until I’m trembling with the onslaught. He jackhammers his tongue against my clit, never stopping as his fingers probe, stretch, fuck. The build intensifies until I’m stuttering between begging and rapid breaths. He lifts his head to delve deeper, his black hair tickling my thighs before he sucks the whole of me between his lips, kissing my pussy just as thoroughly as he does my mouth before condemning me between torturous, relaxed licks.
“Dois-je te laisser aller?” Should I free you?
His breath hits my clit before he flattens his tongue along it, robbing me just as I start to crest.
“Tobias,” I plea, grinding against his mouth for more friction, so close I can feel the early tremors of my orgasm. He gazes up at me, the hem of my negligee dancing along his face and neck, and I lift it to get a better view of him beneath me. His eyes hood as he circles his finger, nipping my clit before pulling away.
“Dois-je être indulgent?” Should I show you mercy?
Another tortuous lick as he runs a skilled finger along my G, and I cry out in frustration as he edges me. “Tu n’en as pas fait preuve envers moi.” You’ve shown none toward me.
“Let me come,” I hiss, ripping at his hair as he thrusts his tongue inside to replace his finger, cupping my ass to go deeper.
“Please,” I beg as he runs his palm over my silk-covered breasts, molding and squeezing, his mouth working me into a frenzy until I’m wound so tight with need, I can hardly breathe.
His growl sounds a second before he closes his lips around my clit and sucks, and with the beckoning of his finger, I detonate. He grips my hips as I ride it out, running me back and forth along his heavenly mouth as I shatter, nearing a scream when I call his name. Soaked and shaking in the aftermath, he continues to lap me up until my high has partially subsided.
And then I’m on my back, as he groans against my mouth, his eyes demanding. Hovering, he parts my thighs with his palms, hitching my legs up high before running his thick head through my folds in a wicked taunt.