Tammy Falkner - [Faerie 02] by The Magic of "I Do" Page B

she did. She did want to come.
    “Do you want me to make you come, Claire?” he asked softly.
    She turned her head and buried it in his neck. She couldn’t say no. She couldn’t say yes.
    He chuckled lightly. “I’ll see what I can do.”
    She exhaled. Finally. Thank God.
    His fingers left her bodice and he laid his hand flat on her thigh. Then his fingers began to gather her skirts, bunching them up more and more near her hip. He took great care not to expose her, although at this point, she was well beyond caring. When his fingers finally encountered her skin, they lingered to play at the top of her stockings.
    “What color are they?” He drew her earlobe into his mouth and suckled it gently.
    “Green,” she replied without even thinking.
    “One day, I want to remove them from you so I can lick all the way from your toes to—” He paused. Then found the passage inside her drawers through the slit in the middle, and as his fingers parted her flesh, he finished, saying, “Here.”
    Claire’s right hand clutched the chair arm, while her left hand clung tightly to his thigh.
    “You are so wet,” he murmured.
    How mortifying.
    “So lovely,” he continued. His free hand cupped her breast, his finger stroking across her nipple through the bodice of her gown. His fingers dipped inside her, as he brought her own moisture forward and circled that little nub of pleasure he seemed to be fairly well acquainted with. “Oh, it’s swollen. I bet it’s thumping like mad. Just like your heart.”
    She nodded, her eyes still closed. She didn’t even need to watch the performance on the stage. Finn was more than she could handle up on the landing. In the dark, with his fingers stroking her most private places, with him driving her senseless.
    His finger dipped inside her again, drawing that slick moisture from inside her channel so he could slide his finger easily across that knot of sensation.
    “Finn,” she cried out.
    “Are you close?” he asked in her ear.
    She nodded frantically, biting her lower lip to keep from screaming.
    The pressure and speed of his assault increased. “Then do it,” he growled in her ear. “Come for me. Let me feel that sweet wash of your release. Let me feel your body quake in my arms. When you come, I’m going to slide my finger inside you and dream about the day it’ll be me inside you again as you flutter in release.”
    A breathy little sigh was all she could utter.
    “Come for me, Claire. Come for me. You want to come. I know you do. Can you? Will you? Trust me, Claire. Let me pleasure you.”
    She pushed toward that impossible cliff but couldn’t fall over.
    “Claire, stop fighting it. It’s just me and you. We’re alone. Your breast in my hand. My fingers are sinking inside you. And you are going to find that sweet release.”
    “Finn,” she whimpered.
    “Now, Claire,” he grunted in her ear. And then she did more than topple. She was flung body and soul over the cliff of pleasure. And couldn’t keep from crying out her release. “Shhh…” he crooned in her ear. But he didn’t stop rubbing that spot that was full of concentrated longing. He replaced his finger with his thumb and slid one digit inside her.
    She came. And came. And came. And he milked every last drop from her as she settled back to earth. Her body stilled, supple and pliant as he pulled his hand from beneath her skirt, covered her legs completely, and turned her so that she lay cuddled in his arms, her head on his shoulder.
    He brushed a kiss across her forehead.
    “Don’t worry. I still don’t love you,” she whispered.
    “I don’t love you either,” he whispered back. Then he kissed her forehead again and let her go limp in his arms. She’d try to remember in a moment why this was a bad thing. But, in that moment, she didn’t care at all.

Fourteen
    What rotten, dreadful, dog-tired luck he had. Finn was sitting with Claire tucked into his side in the carriage. She smelled good enough to