Chapter 35

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

FINNIGAN

“Fuck, piscín . You look incredible!” I exclaim when Catlin walks into the living room, my eyes hungrily raking over her frame.. Every inch of the body I can’t get enough of is showcased in her form-fitted black dress with a plunging—yet somehow modest—neckline. Crossing the room, I pull her into me and kiss along her neck. “So fucking good that I just want to tear that dress from you to find out what you’re hiding underneath.”

“That’s not working again.” She places two hands on my chest and shoves me away from her with a smirk. “Last night, you managed to get out of taking me to the club with sex. I haven’t been anywhere but this apartment or Quinn’s place in a week. I know you’re trying to keep me safe, Finn, but I need to go somewhere and do something.”

“Trust me. If we stay here, we will most definitely be doing something.”

Leaning against the kitchen island, Cat’s lower lip protrudes in an adorable pout—reminiscent of the one Fiona uses to get her way with Declan—and she pleads, “You promised, Finn.”

Fuck… Do they teach them this shit in the womb?

“Give me your shoes.” I sigh, extending my hand to take her strappy heels before kneeling at her feet to help her put them on. As I affix the buckle on the second, I run my fingers up the length of her body as I stand. She turns to grab her purse from the counter, and I quickly wrap my arms around her. Her back crashes into my chest with enough force that a small gasp falls from her as I splay my hand across her stomach. Pressing my lips to the shell of her ear, I whisper, “I’ll give in and take you to the club, piscín . Just know that in return, I’m fucking you when and where I please, with you wearing nothing but these heels later.”

Her breath hitches, sputtering as she releases it. My hand slides from her stomach and over her hip. I inhale the sweet, musky scent of her arousal as I kiss her neck. “You like the idea of me taking what’s mine, don’t you?”

Giving a gentle nod, she whimpers when I nip at the crook of her neck before softly answering, “Yes.”

“I can smell you soaking your panties just thinking about it,” I gravelly whisper as I inch her dress up her thighs.

“Finn.” She grips my hand in protest. “You promised.”

“We’re going to the club, piscín .” I continue to work the fabric up her legs. Hooking my fingers under the thin straps of lace covering her, I drag her panties down her legs as I fix her dress into place. “You’re just going without panties, so I can spend the night inhaling your essence as it drips down your creamy thighs.”

Cat lifts her feet, and I carefully slip the lace from her, ensuring not to tear it. Crumpling them in my palm as I rise to my feet, I feel how soaked they are already. I bring them to my face and breathe in her sweet aroma with a growl before shoving them into my pocket.

My hand rests on Cat’s bare thigh during the ride to the club in my Audi. After pulling into the valet, I wave off the attendant when he reaches for her door. Quickly rounding the car, I take her hand and help her from the low seat. She draws the attention of men— and women— as we walk inside, her arm tucked into the bend of my elbow. I can barely keep my eyes from the stunning, pantyless beauty pressed against me.

She doesn’t just fit into my world; she was fucking made for it.

“How does it feel?” I whisper into her ear as we walk into the lounge.

She glances up at me with a tinge of confusion. “How does what feel?”

“Knowing that everyone staring either wants to fuck you or be you,” I reply, immediately enjoying the heated blush that rushes over her cheeks. As we pass by a table, a beautiful brunette overtly eyes both me and Catlin, prompting me to add, “Or both.”

She squeezes my bicep as we make our way through the crowded room to a table at the back where Tristan, Layla, and Conor are waiting.

“Fucking hell. Cailín álainn, ” Conor exhales, standing as we approach and quickly pulling her in for a hug and a— too friendly —kiss on the cheek. “You look fucking incredible.”

Growling, I tear her from Conor’s hold and stare at him before dragging her onto my lap as I sit. “Get the thought out of your head,” I warn Conor and gesture at Tris and Layla, “because that isn’t happening.”

Conor quips, “Cat’s on this new journey of making her own decisions. Why don’t you let her decide?”

Getting comfortable on my lap, Cat timidly asks, “Decide what?”

My brothers and I stare at her, each of us clearly trying to find the words to answer her question.

“For Christ’s sake,” Layla blurts when none of us speak. “No need to tiptoe around it. Conor is asking if you’d be open to him sharing you with Finn.”