She arched upward in the water, and grabbed his hair on the sides of his head. “Ah, god that feels so fucking good!” She pressed his head down, and her body begged for more. He'd never known a woman to be so receptive to his touch. Especially not her breasts. Sure, they usually enjoyed the sensation, but Morgans sensuality was much more flammable than most.
He brought her other large breast to his mouth, his teeth and lips worked their magic again.
“More, Fin.” She whimpered into the dark room, her voice echoing slightly from the tiled walls.
With his hot mouth still attached to her sensitive bud, he flattened his hand between her breasts and let it glide down between her legs. Her ass moved forward, allowing him quicker access to her needy center. He knew she would come if he touched her where she wanted, so his fingers went around her swollen area, and slipped easily inside of her slick core. Her head thrashed to the other side, and her moans grew louder as she buried her hands in his thick dark hair. He added another finger after his first thrust, and it nearly filled her tight opening. She pushed against his hand, forcing a harder thrust, forcing him to fuck her with his large fingers.
He pushed them in harder, giving the woman what she wanted. “Faster, Fin!” Her head fell back onto the small tub pillow, and she was so close to climax, that she held her breath and squeezed her eyes shut tightly. Finlay put his other hand at her shoulder, and held her firmly in place while he plunged his fingers in out of her quickly. “Use your thumb, touch me.” He wouldn't deny her plea. He put his thumb over her enlarged pink bud, lightly rubbed back and forth as his fingers moved deeper inside of her. “Yes! Ah....!” As the waves of sweet release rolled through her body, Finlay moaned at the tight clasp her body made around his fingers. The spasms inside of her as she pushed hard against his hand felt like the tightening of a velvet glove that was far too small for his large hand. He kept his fingers inside of her until he could no longer feel her heated grip.
He slid his fingers from her body, and let go of her small shoulder. “Ah, lass, you're likely to drive me mad.” His voice opened her eyes, and she looked at the man that had just given her so much pleasure.
“No, Fin.” She shook her head back and forth slowly as she smiled, “you'll drive me mad. Now, I believe it's your turn.” Morgan sat up again in the tub, planning how she would please the large man.
His deep voice sent chills through her body, it was laced with desire and made her want to jump from the water and into his arms, “I'm aroused. Verra, verra aroused. I'd like to stay this way until I can't stand to be without your touch.”
Oh, he was good! Self sexual torture, extended foreplay, and absolutely delicious! Her heart raced with....lust? Interest? She had no idea, but she very much enjoyed how he operated.
Morgan touched his strong jaw with her small wet hand, “then how will we pass the time until you can no longer stand to be without my touch?” She smiled sweetly, and he nearly took her right then. But he restrained, because the longer he waited to have her, the better it would feel when he finally had her again.
With a deep breath, and a will to prolong his desire as long as possible, he answered, “get dressed, lass. I'll take ye to dinner.”
Chapter Five
Morgan stood in front of the mirror, taking a moment to check her appearance before returning to her table with Finlay. Her heart beat wildly each time she thought of him, and especially right then. Her red evening gown had nearly taken his breath away when he first saw her back at the house. She came down the stairs, and his eyes widened as he his tongue quickly wet his lower lip.
Morgan, too, had been more than impressed with her date. Standing at the bottom of the stairs, Finlay was the most gorgeous man she had ever laid eyes upon. He wore an expensive black suit, one that fit him to perfection. His wide shoulders were enhanced by the cut of the material, and his chest screamed for attention under a stark white dress shirt. When she saw the charcoal tie, she blushed slightly as she thought of Dennis. Not Dennis personally, but how it felt to be tied at the wrists while her body was explored unmercifully. Oh yes, she knew exactly what she would do with the silk tie when they returned.
But at that moment, she knew that she would make another appearance in front of Finlay when she returned to the table, and the look that she knew he would give her was worth the extra few minutes of being apart. She ran her fingers lightly around her lips to catch any stray lip liner, and took a deep breath as she left the restroom.
She took her sweet time making her way to her seat, brushing her hand over Finlay's shoulder to make sure she had his attention as she walked by. Giving him the most seductive look she could conjure, she sat herself at the table. She pulled her chair in and when she looked up, he was staring at her, and the look Morgan had expected was even better than anticipated. His eyes flickered with something Morgan was unsure of and that little smile that followed was the icing on the cake. What she was sure of was that his look was sure to drive her mad before the evening was through.
Yes, the few minutes apart had been worth it. Finlay arched an eyebrow toward her, as if to say “was that little move necessary?” He folded his hands in front of him, shaking his head back and forth. “Hen, you're mean. Just bloody mean.”
Morgan grabbed her wine and drew the glass to her full red lips, hiding her smile. Yes, she knew what she was doing and she was enjoying every second of it. In Morgan's past, which now seemed so distant to the young girl, she had grown so used to, “You like me? Suck my dick to prove it”, which usually resulted in Morgan complying, leaving her with an empty hole in her heart each time they moved on. Courting? Flirting? What was that? She was on new territory with Finlay, and she looked forward to exploring every corner of the uncharted land.
“So, don't you have to go to work or something?” Morgan changed the subject, trying to act interested in what his answer was going to be, even though the only thing she could focus on were his lips. His full pink lips were the perfect match to hers...sweet Jesus, stop it, Morgan! The girl fought to think of something else.
“Nay lass, I'm off fer the week. Which is why I requested yer company,” Finlay nodded his head toward her with a wink. “Hope yer not getting tired of me already,” he added.
“Oh, no, not at all!” she defended herself. “That's not what I meant, I was just wondering, you know, if I'd have you to myself all week,” Morgan smoothed it over. Yeah, that didn't sound desperate.
“Aye lass, I'm all yers.” Finlay lifted his glass to her and took a sip of the sweet red wine within.
I'm all yours. Morgan repeated his words in her head. Shouldn't it be the other way around? I don't care. No work? That means....lots, and lots, and lots of play!
When their salad arrived, Finlay had demanded that Morgan move her seat closer to his so they could talk without shouting across the table that was too large for only two people. His hand found its spot on her thigh and during their conversation, he would unknowingly run his hand up or down, or give it a gently squeeze when he talked about a topic he was passionate about. Each movement of his hand drove Morgan mad, making her remember how his hands felt just a few inches higher up.
They spent the time waiting for their food joking about Morgan's dislike of things she couldn't pronounce and Finlay's dislike of white wine. Morgan ordered a glass of Moscato, and chased his lips with the glass until he had no option but to take a sip. He spat it into his water, which drew a fit of giggles from Morgan that drew attention from an old couple trying to enjoy a quiet meal.
Finlay took a piece of paper from his wallet and requested a pen from the waiter and jotted a quick note on the white sheet. “Next time we go oot, you're ordering this,” he slid the paper to her.
“What is it?” Morgan questioned after reading the words. He refused to tell her how it was pronounced, nor what it was. But, the next time they were to eat out, it was sure to be a good payback for the undesirable wine he was forced to endure.
&nbs
p; Foie gras
Morgan continued staring at the piece of paper. “Fwee grass?” she asked sincerely.
That time, it was Finlay's laughter that drew attention to the table. He put his head on his arm that was resting on the table and looked down at the floor. His laughter had become silent, but the evidence was still there as his back jumped up and down with his short intakes of air.
He lifted his head and rubbed a tear of laughter from his eye, and looked at the unamused girl to his right, “aye, lass, fwee grass.”
The green-eyed beauty put her hand on his muscular thigh and gave it a hard squeeze, curling her fingers around his massive leg. That got his attention. His laughed ceased and was replaced by an earthly groan. Morgan ran her hand further up his thigh, dragging her nails against the thin material of his pants. He lifted his hips and got in a better position for the woman's searching hand. Her fingers slid higher beneath the long tablecloth, until she felt his hardening cock against the side of her hand.
Morgan took a sip of her wine with her free hand, keeping her eyes locked on his. Finlay shook his head again, are ye gonna do this tae me now, lass? Oh, Morgan wanted to. She wanted his beautiful piece in her hand, to feel her delicate fingers wrapped around his velvet skin.
Her eyes told him everything, a knowing look that made him wonder if they were even going to make it out of the parking lot. Morgan's fingers brushed over his dick and she felt it twitch under her touch. Finlay heard a tiny moan from the girl. Oh, don't do that, he warned the teasing girl with a look, but that only heated her desire more.
Morgan needed at least one touch to satisfy her growing need; she wrapped her hand around his stiff love bone and slowly let her fingers slide to the top. Finlay grabbed the edge of the table in fear of ripping Morgan's dress off and laying her out across their dinner table.
With just her touch, he was harder than a cement block. The girl knew how to push his buttons. Her throbbing clit screamed at her to keep going, and Morgan was sure of an answer to a previous question. No, I definitely couldn't tire of this. There was an exciting thrill of turning him on in the middle of a five star restaurant. Morgan bet none of Julianne's other girls would have dared such a thing. Her hand moved back down and she traced her index finger under the head of.....
“Finlay Campbell, is that you?” Morgan's eyes widened and her hand froze on Finlays dick. Shit. There was a voice right behind her. Morgan sat up straight in her chair and tried to act natural. Finlay hurriedly placed his hand over hers and squeezed gently, letting her know not to move her hand away.
“Aye, it's been a long time, has it?” Finlay put on a serious face, but greeted the cock-blocker cheerfully. “Morgan, this is my old mate, and business partner, Patrick Miller. Patrick, this is Morgan...uh...” the realization of not knowing her last name washed over his face and Morgan felt her face redden. Not because she was currently stuck with her hand over his throbbing dick, but because she was hit with reality. He doesn't even know my last name.
Patrick pushed his arm between Finlay's and Morgan's shoulders and offered his hand in front of the girl. Morgan thanked all powers that be that it was her left hand trapped beneath Finlay's. She took the red-haired man's hand in hers and faked a decent smile. Acting. Just act. “Nice to meet you,” she lied.
Finlay knew the guy wasn't just going to say hi and walk away, so instead of the guy just lurking behind them, he offered his old friend a seat at the table. The man took Finlay up on his offer and he sat himself at the table.
Morgan looked at Finlay with narrowed eyes, and he gave her a shrug of his shoulders apologetically. Her gaze went to the short man and decided it was safe to bring her hand to the table, unnoticed. Once back on safe ground, she decided it was a good time to go to the bathroom....again. Her mind needed clearing.
Doesn't even know my name...well, it's my last name, it's not that important is it? Morgan paced across the tiled floor, questioning herself. “He doesn't need to know my last name.” She thought it sounded convincing. She applied a fresh coat of lip stick and went made her way back to the table.
“Are you serious, mate? She was that drunk? But man, I have to say, the tits on that...” Patrick was leaning forward and even though he spoke quietly, Morgan heard enough. Matching it with his gesture simulating massive breasts, the way he instantly sat back in his chair at the sight of her, and his complete cease of conversation, it didn't take a genius to figure out what he was talking about.
Great. Just fucking great. I go to the bathroom for a minute and they're having a good 'ol fucking laugh about me.
The girl thought of an ostrich right then. The way they have the ability to bury their heads, just pretending if they didn't see the predators, then the predators wouldn't see them. If only. She was livid with Finlay. How could he? Is that all I am, just a good pair of tits? Good for a laugh with an old mate.
“So, uh, Morgan, it is? Tell me, what do you do?” Patrick asked the sulking girl.
Wow! Really? Because I'm pretty sure you know! Morgan's head screamed. Why would he ask what she does? Obviously they were just talking about her, he had to know.
“I uh,” Morgan began. She was at a loss for words. Her fingers made lazy circles on the red tablecloth, her mind searching for an appropriate title. “Sorry, I'm a little slow today,” she covered herself, still reeling for a reply. She saw Patrick's concerned look, “oh, just a headache.” She rubbed her temple, hoping the lie was convincing. I'm a...”
“Flight attendant. She's a flight attendant,” Finlay cut her off. “I met her on the flight over here.” Finlay wrapped his arm around the confused girl.
Morgan's confusion was at an all time high. Was it possible that they weren't talking about her? She doubted it. Her attention was taken just then when her dinner was placed in front of her. Also, she was relieved when Patrick did the right thing and excused himself to allow them to enjoy their dinner.
“See ye around, then.” The intruder slapped Finlay's back, gave a quick nod to Morgan, and left.
Morgan looked sideways, and waited for Finlay to meet her gaze. When he did, she offered, “Holland.”
Finlay's brows bunched in question. “What's that, lass?'
“My name, Fin. It's Morgan Holland.” Then she looked back to her meal and picked up her fork. Finlay could see that she was upset, and wanted to know why.
He leaned in closer, and spoke softly, “Yer upset that I don't know yer name?” No answer, Morgan just continued to stare at her plate. “Julianne's girls don't usually use their real names. For that matter, some only make up a first name and that's what they go by.”
That got Morgan's attention, “Fin, I'm not just one of Julianne's girls. I'm Morgan. Morgan Holland, and there's more to me than just what I do.” She looked back at her plate, and tried to end the subject. But Finlay wasn't done. Her words struck a nerve, because she had no right to be upset with him.
“Morgan Holland, be that as it may, you'll be wise to know this...there's more to me than my wallet, but that's the only reason ye agreed to spend time with me. That makes us pretty even now.” He picked up his napkin, and placed it over his lap.
Don't you dare cry! Don't! Morgan took a cleansing breath, and mentally lined her words in the correct order. “Fin, I agreed to come here because you're gorgeous. I also loved your smile, and I thought you would be great to be around. I'll also admit that I very much wanted to have sex with you. The only thing your wallet did was allow me to find you, the rest was because I wanted you.” She was losing the battle after her confession, and the tears began to pool within their green depths.
Her honesty took him by surprise. Hell, everything about her took him by surprise. He reached under the table, and put his hand over hers. “I'm sorry, lass. I overreacted. I should have asked your name, and I wish I would have. Friends?” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
A small smile fought for freedom as she squeezed his hand in return. “I'm sorry too,
it's just that I heard you talking to that Patrick guy about how drunk I was and my tits were...oh, never mind. I need to get used to what I am, it's what I chose to do and that's that.” She started to cut her food, when he stopped her again.
He explained that they weren't talking about her at all. A friend of Finlay's had gotten far too drunk at his bachelor party, and ended up face first, passed out in the stripper's lap. Patrick had heard part of the story, and asked Finlay for the rest of the details.
After hearing Finlay relay the story, Morgan laughed and tried with all of her might to ignore her shame at how she had acted earlier. She knew the simple truth; even if he was talking about her, she had no right to get upset. She also knew that she had so much to learn, and tried not to be too hard on herself. They continued with dinner, and kept the conversation light until they left.
Once inside his Hummer, Finlay told Morgan, “I have a surprise for ye, lass.”
Chapter Six
Morgan had calmed down considerably since the mishap in the restaurant. She knew that she had Finlay to thank for it, because after they made amends, he kept on as if nothing had ever happened. More than once over dinner, she wished that she could live life as easily as he did. He was relaxed, classy, and naughty only at the right times.
She wanted to know what the surprise was, and she hoped it involved a naked Scot somewhere in the mix; her naked Scot.
“I'm takin' ye to see a castle in the morning. Would ye like that?” His smile was genuine, and when he caught his tongue between his teeth for a split second, she all but threw herself on his lap.
A castle? A castle! She loved that, she had thought of climbing to the top of a castle since she was a little girl and read every fairytale she could get her hands on. It wouldn't quite be the same, a hooker with her John didn't fit into any of her bedtime stories, but she would enjoy it just the same.
Around the World in 80 Men Series Boxed Set 1-10 Page 11