Page 49 of Shattered Hearts
There’s not a word for what I’m going to do to her yet, but I’ll create one after we emerge from the sexual coma I’m aching to fuck us into.
Riley Brennan is damn dangerous, and I’m already in over my head.
Chapter 13
Riley
I…am kissing…Finn Gallagher.
And he’s kissing me back.
But this is nothing like Saturday. He’s not kissing a woman dressed up as his wife. Finn Gallagher is kissing me. Plain old me. And I have no idea why.
He has no reason to. No motivation or incentive whatsoever.
Finn could have and should have pulled me off him the minute I brought our lips together with no intention of backing down. I should be wallowing in my own mortification for being insane enough to come onto him like this. Instead…he’s kissing me like he never intends for this moment to end.
Like he wantsme.
Ifthisis the standard for kissing—heart flying, body koala’ed around someone like they’re a tree—I’ve never had a single kiss in my whole life. Until this…arrangement with Finn, I’ve never experienced anything like this. Sexual frustration, sure. But real desire? Definitely not. The few other intimate encounters I’ve had were fueled by opportunistic curiosity.
This is…madness.
Finn grips a handful of my hair and tugs, deepening the kiss. He tastes like cinnamon and desire. And I want more than just a taste of him.
I want everything.
As Finn’s rough hand crawls up the back of my shirt and flicks my bra clasp open, I moan against his dangerous mouth. A chill runs through me when he palms my breasts, circling his thumbs on my nipples until they pebble.
Shivering, my hips rock against him.
Another animal sound revs up his throat, and shock pries my eyes open.
Finn’s arousal is evident.
His cock juts up, creating an impressive tent in his pants.
His hands skate down my sides and land on my ass. He sucks my bottom lip between his teeth and squeezes my rear, grinding me against the rock-hard situation happening beneath his zipper.
“Mmm.” If this continues, I’m going to come…clothes and all.
“Fuck.” The word is a low, throaty growl. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
He pulls my hair again, forcing my head back and leaving my neck exposed as he trails kisses down my throat. Just under my ear. On the corner of my mouth.
Holy shit. I’m going to explode.
His mouth finds mine again. But this time, it’s an unhurried exploration. His kisses are slow and soft and still every bit as sensual as before. I want nothing more than to take him to my bedroom, rip off our clothes, and?—
Finn breaks the kiss and pulls back a few inches, resting his forehead against mine. I open my eyes. For a strange, quiet moment, we just stare at each other, our heavy breaths andracing hearts slowing. I’m still wrapped around him, suspended in the air by his muscled arms supporting all my weight.
What the hell am I doing? He’s engaged to my sister.
He could have fucked me up against the wall in my disaster of an apartment, and I would have let him.
Disintegrating every other thought in my mind, Finn’s deep, gruff voice goes soft as silk. “Angel…”
I melt at that one little word. “Hmm?”