Before I left my room the next morning, I gave my nipples a good tweak, making sure they were nice and perky. I wasn't wearing a bra and my girls pushed eagerly against the thin cotton of Finn's borrowed T-shirt.

There was no sign of him when I got to the kitchen, so I pottered around making coffee and pinching my nipples every now and then so they continued to stand to attention.

When Finn finally appeared, I made sure my back was to him, affecting a casual air.

"Morning," he said.

I glanced back as if I'd only just realised he was there. "Hi."

Finn's eyes were fixed on my bare legs, and I looked away before he could see my smile. My bra wasn't the only thing I'd skipped this morning.

"You want some coffee?" I said.

"Yeah, thanks."

I gave my nipples a quick final check, then turned to face him. Finn's gaze immediately dropped down, and heat flashed through his eyes.

"Is something wrong?" I said, blinking innocently.

His mouth opened but he didn't answer.

I turned my back on him again and busied myself with the coffee machine.

Finn didn't move. Tension slunk through the room, and this time my nipples didn't need my help to stiffen.

I filled a mug and handed it to him, wearing my sweetest smile, and Finn's valiant attempts to hold my gaze failed when I arched my back, pushing my breasts forward even more.

"What are you doing?" Finn said, his voice low and taut.

"Me? What do you mean?"

I reached past him to retrieve my own coffee, which I'd left on the island unit, and my eager nipples may have brushed against him. Finn exhaled.

"Tasha," he started.

"Yes, Finn?"

"This isn't going to work."

I sipped my coffee, watching him over the rim of the mug. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He gave me an oh please look.

I wrapped one arm around myself and shrugged, knowing the movement would plump up my breasts. A muscle twitched in Finn's jaw. I'd have felt sorry for him, except he'd started it when he gave me a blinding, shattering orgasm.

He couldn't leave it there.

I couldn't leave it there.

"Tasha," he said again, almost a plea.

I turned to the counter behind me and put my mug down, knocking a teaspoon to the floor in the process. I didn't need to look back to know that Finn was still watching me as I slowly bent to retrieve the spoon.

He made a strangled noise. "Are you not wearing underwear?"

"Nope."

I picked up the spoon and oh-so-slowly straightened, anticipation quickening my heartbeat. I wasn't sure what reaction I'd hoped for, only that there was a reaction, so when Finn suddenly grabbed me and spun me around, I couldn't help a squeak of surprise.

His mouth came down on mine, hard and demanding, and fuck, there was that metal stud again, dancing against my tongue and making my toes curl. He kissed me like he'd fucked me with his mouth last night, skilled and relentless and dizzying, one arm curled around my waist, holding me tightly to him.

Finn spun me again, so fast I already tripped over my own feet, but before I could even regain my balance, he'd slid one strong arm under my butt and lifted me. He set me down on the island, his hips shoved between my thighs, pushing my legs apart. The hard ridge of his cock pressed against me through his jeans, and the roughness of the denim against my bare sex sent a bolt of heat right through me.

Fuck, that felt good, but I needed more.

Finn gripped the back of my neck and pulled my head back, then he broke the kiss and latched his mouth onto the pulse in my throat. He sucked hard, wringing a gasp from my lips, then his mouth travelled down, his teeth scraping lightly over my collar-bone.

"You're definitely on the pill?" he whispered, the bristle on his chin a delicious rasp after the warmth of his lips.

I managed a nod.

Finn roughly exhaled and reached one hand between us to fumble with his belt buckle. His mouth found my throat again, kissing, licking, softly biting my pulse, sucking the sensitive skin along my jaw and under my ear, and my head fell further back. His arm around my waist was the only thing that stopped me from keeling over on the counter.

With a wrench of his wrist, Finn got his belt and jeans open. He rested his forehead on mine, his eyes heavy-lidded, his breathing ragged, and an emotion that I couldn't name lurched in my chest.

Crossing this line would change everything, in so many ways, and part of me still knew that this could be a very bad idea, but something else had taken me over, filling me with fire and heat and absolute fucking need.

"Finn," I whispered.

My eyes flicked down, just in time to see the unfinished heart tattoo on his cock, before he rolled his hips forwards and drove into me.

It was so sudden and so deep that I almost lost my mind, and then he started to move, and the world fell away. There was only Finn and me, and the hot, fast drive of his cock into me. His hands clutched my hips, pulling me towards him, and my hands were on his back, in his hair, holding on for dear fucking life. The air filled with the sounds of gasping breaths – I couldn't tell which of us was louder – the slap of skin on skin, and the metallic clink of Finn's belt buckle hitting the side of the unit.

"I can't . . ." I gasped, and I had no idea what I was trying to say.

I couldn't breathe?

I couldn't cope with the sheer force of what was building inside me?

Finn buried his face in my neck, his breath hot on my skin, one hand grabbing a fistful of my hair as he pounded into me, and it was almost too much, the punishing rhythm almost painful, but I never wanted it to end.

Heat coiled at my core, a rising inferno that spread throughout my whole body, and fuck, I was going to break apart. A scream rose in my throat and I bit Finn's shoulder, trying to hold it back. He jerked a little in surprise, but his hips never lost their relentless rhythm, brutally fucking into me again and again and again, until a blinding explosion ripped through me. My back arched, my thighs went taut, and I couldn't stop the raw, desperate howl that surged up my throat.

My eyes squeezed shut.

My body was filled with light.

Finn slammed in once more, then his arm tightened around me as he came with a low, deliciously husky groan.

My bones felt like they'd dissolved. I sagged against Finn's arm, my head hanging back, my breath shuddering in and out. I felt him slip out of me, then he carefully lowered me onto my back.

"Wait here," he said.

"For what?" I leaned on my elbows, watching him.

Finn grabbed a cloth from the sink and gently wiped between my legs. My stomach gave a little twist. After last night's demonstration, I'd expected sex with Finn to be spectacular and he hadn't disappointed. I hadn't expected him to care that I was full of come or that he'd be so gentle as he cleaned me up.

When Finn was done, he tossed the cloth in the bin, then took my hands and helped me into a sitting position. My oversized T-shirt puddled in my lap – I'd almost forgotten I was wearing it.

Still holding my hands, Finn helped me down from the counter. My legs still felt floppy and weak, so I leaned against the island.

"Are you okay?" Finn asked, his voice quiet.

"Yeah." I tucked a tangle of hair behind my ear.

Finn's forehead was creased as he looked down at me, his lips parted like he was about to say something, but no words came.

"Tasha –" he started.

"You don't have to say anything," I quickly interrupted.

Finn frowned. "You don't know what I was going to say."

"You were going to warn me not to read too much into that, and it was only sex, et cetera." I tugged down the hem of my T-shirt. "Am I right?"

There was a flash of something in Finn's eyes, then he smiled, casual and easy. "Yeah."

"That's okay. I'm not expecting anything else," I said. "Although I definitely want to do that again."

Finn's smile widened. "Abso-fucking-lutely."

Suddenly I didn't know what to do with myself. I didn't feel self-conscious, exactly, but somehow more aware of myself than I had before. And more aware of Finn too. I could still feel the thick, hard length of him between my legs, as if he'd imprinted himself inside me. My hips probably bore bruises from his fingertips. I didn't know what to do with my hands.

Finn didn't appear to feel the same. He moved past me to the coffee machine, and made himself a mug as if nothing had happened. I rested my elbows on the counter and admired the way his jeans hugged his butt.

In some ways nothing had changed. In other ways everything had.

Finn faced me, steaming mug in hand. My gaze was drawn to the black polish on his nails, even more chipped than when we'd first met. I couldn't work out if it was the same polish, or if he'd re-painted and re-chipped it since then.

While I was debating it, Finn said, "You look good wearing nothing but my T-shirt."

I looked down, my hands twisting my hem. I'd got so used to wearing Finn's clothes that I'd almost forgotten I was doing it. At one point I'd wished I'd had some cute outfits or makeup so I could have presented my best self to the insanely hot rockstar I'd never expected to live with.

Now I was glad I didn't have those things because it meant that said insanely hot rockstar liked me for me. He didn't care about my bare face or finger-combed hair, or the fact that I wore his clothes every day, no matter how baggy and shapeless they looked on me.

I wasn't naïve enough that I didn't know I was good-looking, but even pretty girls liked to look their best, especially around the men who filled their stomachs with butterflies.

"I'll look even better without it," I said, striking a pose.

"Maybe I should do something about that," Finn murmured.

Fuck, I loved it when his voice went all deep like that, his Irish brogue becoming more pronounced. That lilting accent rubbed over my skin like a velvet glove.

"Maybe you should," I agreed.

I half-expected him to move towards me, but he stayed where he was, sipping his coffee and watching me.

A flush crept over my skin. I was tingling from the explosive orgasm he'd just given me, and the memory of how spectacularly he'd eaten me out yesterday was very fresh in my mind, but I was still hungry for more.

This level of lust was new to me. Was it just because Finn had proved how good he was in the sack? Or was it because it was Finn?

Dwelling on that would mean delving into exactly what my feelings for him were, so I shoved it from my mind.

"Breakfast?" I said brightly, as if nothing had happened.

Finn took a moment to respond. "Sure."

My stomach still felt all fluttery so I munched a single piece of toast while Finn wolfed down three. Neither of us spoke but the air in the kitchen felt charged with anticipation.

I'd told myself – and Camden – that I wouldn't cross this line and now I had, in magnificent fashion. And I couldn't seem to care.

Of course I had no idea how to keep this from Camden, and even less idea how to explain it when she eventually found out –

Shut up, Tasha.

I'd cross that bridge when I came to it.