Page 19 of Primal
“I should go,” he husks. “I can smell how fucking wet you are. With how sweet you smell, it’s taking everything I have not to spread you across this desk and taste the rest of you.”
“You want to taste me”—I glance down at my lap with a gulp and back up to his searing gaze—“there?”
Apparently, there was a lot omitted in the limited sexual education I have received.
With a devilish glint in his eyes, he gravelly whispers, “I don’tjustwant to taste you,piscín.I want to feast on you until you’re screaming my name as you come all over my tongue.”
Staring up at him in silence, with my knees pressed tightly together, I’m clueless about how to respond to him. I blurt the first thing that comes to mind, “I’ve never done… anything.”
“Anything?” He cocks an inquisitive brow.
“Anything,” I repeat with embarrassment. Waiting has been instilled in me for a lifetime by my family and the church. It’s what good little Catholics do. Yet, I’m pretty sure I’m the only good little Catholic girl on the planet.
“I always thought I’d wait until I was married. I’ve never met anyone that made me think about wanting to.”
“Are you saying I make you want to be my naughty girl?”
Mynaughty girl?
“Your girl?” I clarify, trying to tame my excitement.
“Catlin O’Flaherty…” Leaning in, Finn slips his fingers under my chin and cups it. He places a soft, fluttering kiss against my lips. Staying a breath from me, his words vibrate across my lips. “You’re going to be mine, Cat.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
FINNIGAN
Sitting at a table in the club’s lounge, I share a bottle of Jameson with my brothers. Well, Liam and Conor. Declan is stuck in traffic somewhere between his home in New Rochelle and here, and Tristan snuck off a while ago for an exhibitionistic fuck in one of the semi-private rooms with Layla.
Floral perfume floods my nostrils as a set of delicate feminine arms drape over me from behind. Loosely encircling my neck, a beautiful middle-aged brunette rounds my chair. The slit of her black silk dress parts as she takes a seat on my leg, revealing her well-toned thigh clear to where it creases at her hip. “It’s Finnigan, right?”
“Finn,” I correct her.
“Brooke. My husband, Carl, and I have watched you a few times from the hall. He’s dying to watch me get fucked by a hot bull with a huge cock that will stretch me out. We both keep thinking that you’d be perfect. So, room six.” She slips a key card into my shirt pocket, and her lips brush against the shell of my ear as a sultry voice whispers into it. “I love how hard you fuck. I’m hoping you mark me so much that he has to remember youruining my pussy for him with every bruising bite I wear for the next week.”
Fucking cucks…
“Right in your fucking lap,” Conor mutters under his breath, his eyes roaming over the very eager andveryforward woman draped across my lap.
Lightly holding her arm against my chest, I reach into the pocket of my shirt to retrieve the black-and-gold Triskelion card she slipped into it. “Sorry, sweetheart. You are beautiful, and I’m flattered, but I have other plans tonight,” I decline the overt offer of destroying her pussy. Liam and Conor watch with inquisitive expressions as I slip the keycard back between her well-manicured fingers.
“I don’t have other plans, Brooke,” Conor chimes with a broad smile as I help her from my lap.
“Too bad you have a tiny cock,” Liam jests, laughing as he playfully elbows him.
“Li, what the fuck?” Conor huffs as the woman saunters away from the three of us. Undoing his trousers to whip his cock out and prove the size of his manhood, he snarls, “A tiny fucking cock?”
Finally arriving and sitting at our table as Conor reaches into his trousers, Declan barks, “We’ve all seen your bejeweled anaconda, Conor. Keep it in your trousers.”
Returning without Tristan and finding all the seats taken, Layla slips onto Conor’s lap. “I’ll vouch for you, big guy,” she offers with a wink.
“Thank you.” He slips his arm around her hip and pulls her up his thigh until she’s firmly wedged against him.
“It’s definitely at least adequate,” she snarks.
Squeezing her tightly, he growls, “You’re such a fucking brat.”
“You fucking love it.” She places a playful kiss on his cheek before grabbing his glass and taking a sip of whiskey.