Eternal Longing ✓

37. After The Kiss (Part 2)

JAYA

One Year Ago

(Two Days After Their First Kiss)

This shouldn't feel so natural, should it?

I should be scared, or at the very least uncomfortable with the extent of his exploration, with the lowly position I find myself in.

But I do not.

"Trust me?"

I shiver at the low timbre of his voice against the curve of my ear, and instinctively, I want to deny him my trust, but the words can't seem to leave my lips.

They stay trapped in my throat somewhere, dying before even making it to my mouth. Instead, I nod and the only thing that ends up in my mouth is his finger.

"Suck," he instructs quietly as if we're not the only ones in the house and the walls of my room have ears. "Let me feel what this mouth of yours can do."

This should be easy enough, just sucking his finger in my mouth as I would a popsicle. But something about sitting down on my bed with him next to me, demanding I perform such an innocently lewd act on him, makes me inexplicably wet.

Keeping my eyes on his, I suck on his finger with slow pulls, wondering if I'm doing this right. No one has ever asked me to suck on their finger before. Is there a way to do it?

Finger still in my mouth, he leans forward so his mouth is by my ear. "Do you know just how beautiful you are, Jaya?" He bites my ear, then whispers, "So fucking beautiful. I wish you could see yourself, sitting down on your adorable bed, so eager and ready to be fucked."

A wave of pleasure flows through my entire body at his words, an unknown part of me, one that has been feening for attention, purrs happily.

Languidly, he moves his finger out of my mouth, watching the way his finger slides out of my lips. He's completely right, I am ready to be fucked.

"Besides the canvas in the middle of the room," he nods in that direction a few feet over, "take off your clothes and get on your knees right there."

Come again?!

I can only blink dumbly at his words because what the hell am I supposed to do with all that? Get on my knees. No, get naked then get on my knees. Oh, and make sure I should be right beside the canvas in the middle of my room.

"Trust me?" Though his gaze is blazing as he regards me, the tone of his voice is so gentle, meant to settle me into obedience.

And for some reason probably having to do with my drenched core and his smoldering presence, I relinquish control. My hands tremble as I take off my clothes, the silence of the house deafening.

I'm not a shy person, but getting completely naked in front of a near stranger is another level of boldness that I do not yet possess. Nevertheless, I walk toward the middle of the room, near the blank canvas on the easel, my legs wobbly.

I'm wearing a casual spring dress that stops mid-thigh, and with shaky hands, I'm able to lift the hem to bare more of my legs, but on account of my trembling hands, I drop the material and I'm about to tap out.

It's only the look on Finley's face that greets me when I look up that stops me, my heart thudding rapidly at the desire and the layer of desperation that I see in his expression.

He wants me. He wants my body.

With this realization, taking off my dress and dropping to the floor doesn't seem so low anymore. I might be physically bare and at his mercy susceptible to his demands, yet I'm the one with the power.