Player: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (A Deadliest Lies Novel Book 4)
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Clarissa
Finn is unusually quiet.
We’ve spread out a blanket on a grassy knoll overlooking the church grounds below. I’m relaxed after consuming a bottle of wine and an Irish feast of small meat pies, fruits and grilled vegetables. Finn arranged for the innkeeper to pack “a little bit of this and a little bit of that.” I’m presently nibbling on a scone topped with fruit preserves while Finn drinks from a can of Guinness.
I study him beneath my lashes while he stares off into the distance.
He’s ridiculously handsome, with short, neatly styled hair, thanks to an early morning trip to the barber while I slept in. A jawline smooth to the touch, many more thanks to the same barber. The bruising around his eyes has faded. He seems more GQ model than barbarian.
His good looks should make me nervous. Except the memory of him in all his un-glorious gruffness isn’t something I’ll ever forget. Besides, we’ve grown close in such a short period of time.
And, memories—nightmares—or not, I find myself wanting to get even closer.
He brings a strawberry to his mouth and bites into it, juice reddening his lips.
The things I could teach him.
He licks his lips. God, he’s a woman’s wet dream, isn’t he?
I toss my half-eaten scone onto a napkin then crawl across the edge of the blanket toward him. He doesn’t say a word as I climb over his lap and straddle him, plucking the can from his grasp and tossing it onto the grass before pushing him down.
“I’m going to corrupt the hell out of you.”
His blue eyes shimmer with amusement.
I lean forward to nuzzle his ear with my nose. “We’re going to fuck. And, if you listen well and do exactly as I say, I’ll let you come inside me.”
He makes a noise deep in his throat.
I nip his earlobe, lightly but with intent. “Nothing to say?”
“Do your worst, storeen.”
I pin him to the ground then my lips are on his. All day long, I’ve wanted to kiss him. This morning, after he surprised me with this trip. On the rock, when he slipped his arm around me. With each and every single step, as we climbed this knoll. It’s demanding and aggressive. Lips locked. Tongues entangled. An exchange that puts the “ah, oui” into a French kiss.
He follows my lead and matches me inch for inch, thrust for thrust.
Needing more contact, I fold into him until my chest presses into the hard plains of his body.
He weaves his fingers through my hair. Holds me still while he deepens our kiss. Devours me like a man born to pleasure a woman. Like a man who can make a woman come from his kisses alone.
We kiss until I’m breathless. “Much improved,” I murmur, coming up for air.
“Fast learner.”
We grin at each other.
“I’m going to ruin you,” I promise.
“I’d say you already have.”
Something crosses his expression, and he grows serious while studying me closely. Under any other circumstances, I’d be worried.
Always a contradiction.
Always so difficult to read.
“Clothes off. Now.”
His eyes flash.
“Chop, chop.”
I’m rewarded with a familiar smirk. “Bossy minx.” Seconds later, he rolls up to sit and I’m once more, straddling his lap.
His shirt comes off.
I gasp. “What in God’s name is that?”
Raised skin mars his otherwise perfect chest. It sits high, just beneath his right collar bone. What is most shocking, though, are the two letters branded into his skin. F. U.
“Me, being stubborn.”
“Stubborn how? It looks like a cattle farmer took a hot iron to you. And, F.U.? As in fuck you?”
“Suits me, no?”
I frown.
He cocks his head and nods at me. “How about you help me forget?” He grasps hold of the hem of my shirt and tugs it up and over my head in one single, smooth movement.
“Finn.”
“Clarissa.”
I shake my head, but quickly fall back into the game when, with expert fingers, Finn unfastens my bra and tosses it aside. Fingers in my hair, his lips collide with mine in a kiss that makes my toes curl.
I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I just want. His strength, his heat. Him.
All of him.
How did this happen?
He breaks away to stare deeply into my eyes.
“You’re beautiful inside and out.”
I’m unprepared for this side of him. Is he offering me a glimpse into the soul of Finn McDuff, minus the jokes and smart-ass comments? A side of him rarely seen?
Now, when I have some corrupting to do?
I swallow hard. “Your pants, Finn,” I command, eager to re-establish a sense of normalcy. The scar. His demeanor. It’s too much.
He reaches out and gently, ever so gently, runs a thumb across my cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you, Clarissa.”
Oh. My. God. Does he mean emotionally? Do I want him to develop feelings for me? Yes. No. Oh, hell. Maybe I should think about this later, right?
“You’re hung like a stallion,” I murmur. “But I can take you.”
“That’s not . . .” He clears his throat. “You can, can you?”
“If you’re too shy to continue . . .” I go for gold, lifting myself off him to stand. While he thinks about it—and damn him, because that’s what he does instead of taking the bait—I slip my pants and underwear down my legs then kick the clothing onto the rest of the pile.
Finn rises to stand and studies the sky, partly dressed and looking lost.
I dig a condom out of my purse. “Hey.”
His attention swings my way.
“It’s okay, you know. If you don’t want this, just say no.”
His eyebrows pinch together.
“But if it’s lack of experience holding you back, I can promise you that once we’re done, there won’t be a shy bone remaining in your big body.”
His expression looks pained.
My eyes widen, alarmed.
His laughter rumbles out of him. Music to my ears.
“You are a piece of work, you know that?”
I pop the button on his pants. “A piece of work looking forward to you decorating me with your come.”
“Christ on a bike,” he groans.
I lower his zipper and sink to the ground, tugging his pants and briefs down his body as I go. His cock springs free, massive and hard and oh-so lickable. I dart my tongue across the tip, tasting his salty pre-cum.
I lick my lips, raising my eyes to his. “Like that?”
The heat in his eyes nearly knocks me on my ass. God, he likes to watch, doesn’t he? It’s a trigger for him.
I drag my tongue from root to tip in a long, wet lick. Watching him as I do so. Feeling my excitement grow at his obvious pleasure.
Hands on his hips, I tug him forward until I’m slowly feeding him into my mouth. God, he’s beautifully built. And big.
Finn flexes his ass. Liking it.
I go deep, drawing him into my throat, my eyes watering, my breath jagged as I struggle to take his massive girth. I’d suck him all the way into my esophagus and never come up for air if I could. Me, a woman with limited experience deep throating a man, now eager to win a world championship. Because Finn loves it. Because, in this moment, this inexperienced man’s pleasure is my pleasure.
His jaw clenches. His eyes burn. His body radiating heat. Damn, he’s gorgeous. If I’m not careful, he’ll burn his name into me. Mark me. Ruin me.
I suck him deep one last time, for good measure, before releasing him with a pop.
He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing with exertion. I promised to corrupt him, and I aim to please.
Time I make him mine.
“Feed your cock to me. And don’t be bashful.” I open my mouth wide, stick out my tongue, and curl it beneath his heavy weight.r />
Hesitant Finn disappears.
Bad ass Finn takes his place.
His fingers curl within my hair as he tugs me forward, flexing his hips and driving deep. I blink in surprise but relax my throat, taking his assault.
He slows to a few small pulses. Just enough force to drive me wild before pulling free.
A hand slips free of my hair.
The foil in my hand disappears.
I hear rustling.
He pulls out and rolls the rubber over his length. “How do you want me?”
I feel a flush of heat. “You promised me a ride back in Mexico City.”
I squeal as he reaches down, grabs me from beneath the arms and hoists me into the air as easy as a bag of feathers. “Ride me then.”
Hands on my ass, he raises me higher, positioning our bodies just so. I wrap my legs around his hips and anchor myself to him. For a few heartbeats, we’re paused in place.
“Okay?”
“Corrupt away, storeen.”
I take hold of him and guide his fat tip to my center. A few strokes, to get him ready. A glide of wet fold across his head, to ensure I’m ready. We both hiss at the contact.
I do it again.
Oh, Lord, that feels good. My bones melt and my control slips.
But Finn is there to prop me up like a rag doll.
“Jaysus. I need inside that little pink pussy.”
“Pretty please, Clarissa.”
He cocks his head, eyes bright and loving every second of this. “That’s how you want to play this?”
I push down, drawing him into me. “Pretty please, Clarissa. And I’ll fuck you hard enough you won’t be able to stay standing.”
His smirk is as wicked as all hell.
Finn might be a wet dream. But I’m about to rain down on him.
I roll my hips and offer him another taste. Dragging him in deeper, my folds parting to accept the thick, bulbous head of him. He’s barely inside yet it feels like heaven.
“Pretty please, Clarissa,” I hear him groan.
But I’m too wound up to celebrate my victory.
I struggle for control, forcing myself to relax as I sink down onto him. Hissing, as his thick, hot length splits me in two. He’s big, really big. Nothing could have prepared me for being so completely, fully penetrated.
“That’s right. Take it. Give me that tight pussy.”
“There’s more?” I whisper.
He chuckles then flexes his hips, driving home.
I see stars. Beautiful, brilliant, blissful stars.
“Giddyap.”
When I don’t move—how can I when it feels this phenomenal?—he takes charge, bouncing me, forcing me to take him completely. Intense pleasure rolls over me.
“Come on. Teach me. Show me what to do.”
I tighten my thighs into his body and begin to move. A slow, upward drag. An abrupt drop into oblivion. Up and down, up and down, like I’m a jockey on a horse that’s headed for the win.
I feel him everywhere. His warm chest brushing against mine, his cock not just inside of me, but a part of me. My entire body begins to shake.
Close. I’m so close . . .
“For shite’s sake, no.” Finn grunts. He batters up into me, once, twice, three times.
“Yes, Finn. That’s exactly what to do.”
He pulls me into a tight hug.
Shakes.
Stills.
Curses.
Oh, no. He didn’t.
He lifts me off him and sets me on my feet. Cursing a blue streak as he sinks to his knees and rolls me back across the blanket.
I’ve never seen anyone look so distraught.
“Go on, you.”
“For what it’s worth, you are honestly the hottest ride in town,” I say between giggles. “
He grunts. “You didn’t climax.”
I shrug. “That comes with practice. Next time, I’ll teach you how.”
“Jaysus, Mary, and Joseph. Teach me? That’s grand.”
I tug him down for a kiss, but it takes a few seconds before he relaxes into it.
“It’s been awhile,” he offers, pulling away to roll onto his back and muttering something beneath his breath.
A name.
Antonio?
“I imagine in your line of work, relationships are difficult.”
“They are.”
“How long ago was your last relationship?” How could someone with his good looks and a rock star job women go wild for be this inexperienced?
“We talking sex?” He considers his answer, making a funny face as he does. “Jaysus, I’m pushing seven months.”
I don’t know who is more shocked. Finn. Or me.
“You haven’t had sex in seven months?”
“Seems that way.”
“Aside from that night with me?”
He snorts in response.
“No wonder—”
“No feckin’ wonder.”
I bite my lip, my curiosity stoked. “And relationships? Dating? A girlfriend?”
“I don’t do relationships.”
I sit up so I can stare down at him. “You’ve never had a girlfriend.”
“One. When I was sixteen. It’s better this way.” He turns his head to look at me. “No one gets hurt this way.”
“Because of your job.”
“Right on, as usual.”
I bend and give him a quick peck on the lips. “Maybe you haven’t found a woman who’s accustomed to living on the edge. A woman experienced with danger.”
Something flashes across his face. Regret? Longing? It’s gone as quickly as it came, leaving me gaping down at him. Because I felt it, whatever it was.
And I suddenly want more of it.
But I’ve learned a few things about Finn. He’s already withdrawing, that hard mask of his sliding into place. Pressing him further will get me nowhere. Challenge him.
I sigh, loudly. “It’s expected that a fighter like you would be so easily defeated by his performance.”
“Performance?”
I go for my second gold of the afternoon. “Sure, it lasted shorter than a five-yard sprint. Sure, I’m lying here curled up against you and hot for more.” I move to stand up. “Oh, well. I could have taught you a thing or two about pleasure but—”
His arm snakes out and, quick as a blink, I’m flipped over onto my back beneath him. I struggle to hide my smile and then don’t have to.
His lips crash into mine.
Finn
I could sulk like a pup who thought his new fire truck was a brilliant red but proved to be lackluster maroon. Or I could take it for what it was, a brutal blow to my psyche. I’m going to take it, then paint that motherfecker, and when I’m done with her, she’s going to think I’m feckin’ Picasso. I break free from our kiss and offer her a smug smile.
“Show me how to please you.”
Her lips part.
“I can play with your beautiful tits. Suck on your hard, little nipples all day. I can dip my fingers into you, see how many that tight pussy can take. Or I can lick you dry. Jaysus, I’d love to make you come on my mouth.”
Her pupils darken. My beour likes to be eaten out.
“Words, Clarissa.”
“I want to see what you can do with that smart mouth of yours when you’re not talking.”
I lift off her and move down her body, parting her thigh with my shoulders.
She rolls up onto her elbows to watch. Feck, yeah.
I drag my tongue across her clit.
She groans, loving it.
“Okay?” I innocently ask. “Am I doing it right?”
“Keep going and I’ll let you know,” she breathes.
I lick long and firmly, my cock hardening as she quivers beneath my tongue. “So sensitive. I bet I make you wet.” On the next lick, I part her folds with my thumb. Soaked. Her beautiful body wet for my cock.
I suck on her clit while driving my thumb deeper into her.
/> “Good, Finn. You’re doing great.”
I lift my head.
She shakes hers. “Why . . . stop?”
“Challenge me to be better. Say it.”
Her eyebrows arch. “This is payback, isn’t it?”
“This is me wanting to be a better man.”
She pulls a face. “You hate failing, don’t you?”
Is that what she’s calling it?
“Fine. Don’t be a better man.” She lifts her chin in that sassy way of hers. “Be the best of them all—I dare you.”
“I’ll be wanting you to acknowledge my success. Sing me praises if you will. That is if I prove to be the best.”
“I think that can be arranged.”
She seems doubtful. Unaware of what’s coming. Naive to the pleasure I’ve a track record of giving before that shite Antonio came into being. Never in me life have I wanted to prove someone wrong this badly.
With a bold wink, I hook my arms beneath her knees, tug her closer, and reposition her legs over my shoulders. Then, I go deep, burying my face into her pussy, plunging my tongue between her lips, French kissing her like a porn star.
She groans deeply and wiggles her bottom, pushing herself into my face.
Jaysus, I love a woman who goes after what she wants.
I find her clit and roll it between two fingers.
“Holy shit,” she screams.
I fuck her harder with my tongue, her excitement coating my mouth, my chin. I thrust in and out and as deep as I can until I hear her voice, her words sweet music to my ears. “Finn. God, that was fast. I’m going to come.”
Her thighs tighten around my shoulders.
Her hips arch up as she grinds into me.
I don’t stop. I couldn’t stop if you told me they’re giving away a year’s worth of whiskey at the pub.
She begins to moan and shake.
I squeeze her clit between my digits and drive deep.
She comes violently like she’s releasing a lifetime of pent-up lust and frustration. “Yes,” she cries out. “Oh, Finn.”
I don’t slow down or let up, milking every last drop of her until she practically faints like a ragdoll in my arms.
Gently, I lay her back on the blanket, repositioning myself so I can cuddle up against her.
Cuddling? Feckin’ hell. After that, I should be running for the hills. Because I want another taste of her. And to fuck her. Fuck her so brilliantly there’ll be no more questions about me being the best.