Finn's mouth came down on mine. There was nothing gentle about his kiss, and I didn't want there to be. I wanted him to kiss me like he possessed me, wanted his masculine fierceness, and Finn gave me exactly what I needed.

The demanding slide of his tongue, the press of that metal stud, the abrasion of his unshaven jaw as he nipped at my lips – fuck, my knees were turning to mush.

"You're way too fucking good at that," I gasped.

Finn smirked. "Among other things." He curled his arm around my waist and yanked me against him. "But you already knew that."

I scrunched up my mouth, pretending to think. "I'm not sure I remember."

Amusement sparked in his eyes. "Oh, really? We're doing this again?"

I smiled and batted my eyelashes. "Afraid so. I think I need another demonstration."

His arm slid lower, settling under my butt, then he abruptly scooped me up, and I couldn't help a girlish squeal. Finn crushed me against him, and my legs automatically went around his waist. His cock jutted between us, rock hard and straining against his sodden jeans, and even through layers of clothing it already felt so fucking good.

Finn carried me out of the pool, never missing a step, and I loved the way he held me with one arm, as if I weighed nothing. I'd always been slim, but Finn made me feel delicate, like I was made of glass. I didn't know why I liked it so much, only that I did.

He lowered me onto one of the pool loungers. My legs were still locked around his hips, pulling him down with me, rocking against him, desperate for more of that delicious hardness.

Finn tore off my T-shirt with one hand, and yanked my bra aside, and I gasped at the sudden touch of cool air, then his mouth was on my nipple, sucking hard, rolling it against his tongue stud.

"Fuck," I groaned, grabbing a fistful of his hair.

Finn grasped my other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and gently squeezed. I rocked my hips harder against him, and was rewarded by the feel of his teeth pressing on my nipple. A frisson of delight ran through me.

"Oh God, do that again."

Finn bit down, harder this time, and it was almost too much, but he knew exactly when to release the pressure, chasing away the slight sting with a skilful roll of his tongue.

I squirmed.

My nipples had never had this kind of treatment and they loved every second.

Finn switched to the other nipple, wrapping his lips around it and pulling, flooding me with liquid heat.

It was exquisite, but at the same time it wasn't enough.

I wanted the incredible sensation of him inside me, filling me, stretching me, plunging deep.

Finn let go of my nipple and raised his head. His grey eyes had gone stormy-dark, heavy-lidded with heat, his hair messier than usual where I'd clutched it. Even without his eyeliner, he looked like he'd just run off stage, high on adrenaline, and my pulse spiked.

Every fantasy I'd ever had was coming to life, and it was better than I'd ever imagined.

Finn leaned closer and I thought he was going to kiss me; instead he took my lower lip between his teeth, like he'd done with my nipple.

My whole body throbbed.

His hands travelled down my hips, the cool metal of his skull ring pressing against my skin, and I instinctively spread my legs wider, silently begging him.

"Not yet," he murmured.

He left my mouth and moved down, giving each nipple a lingering suck, before shifting his weight backward, so he was settled in the cradle of my thighs.

I leaned on my elbows to watch him.

Finn hooked his fingers in my shorts and pulled them down, slow and steady. My panties were soaked, both from the pool and from me, and I trembled with anticipation, waiting for Finn to pull those off too.

He didn't.

He kissed the front of my panties and even the hint of sensation through the thin layer of cotton made me tremble. Finn glanced up, a wolfish smile curling his lips. His eyes still locked on my face he licked me through my panties, and as they grew damper and damper, the sensation of the cotton dragging against my sex made my eyes roll in my head.

It wasn't quite as good as the feel of his bare tongue, but it was a fucking fantastic build-up, and just when I thought I couldn't take any more teasing, Finn yanked my panties down, tossed them over his shoulder, and drove his tongue deep inside.

"Fuck," I cried, clutching his head with both hands.

He licked me hard and fast, my heels digging into his back, my hands holding his head down while my hips rode his face. Not that he was trying to get away. His mouth was like sweet fire, sucking, devouring, sounds of male appreciation rumbling in his throat, his strong hands pressing down on my thighs, holding me open.

I couldn't take this.

I was going to explode.

"Finn," I groaned.

His tongue stud pressed hard against my clit, and the world shattered.

I was light and bliss, floating somewhere outside my body, a wordless cry spilling from my lips.

It seemed to last forever.

As I slowly settled back into my skin, I heard wet clothes hitting the tiled floor, then something thick and warm and blunt was pressing insistently between my legs.

My eyes flew open as Finn slid inside, slowly, dragging out every sensation. His mouth was a hard line of concentration, his hair wild where I'd pulled it, and he looked like every wet dream I'd ever had.

I let out a soft sigh as his hips met mine, and for just a moment, as he was suspended over me, our bodies joined and our eyes locked, a great surge of emotion swelled in my chest and made my eyes prickle.

If I could have captured this moment in time and kept it forever, I would.

Then Finn drew back and slammed back in, jolting me into the lounger, and the soft emotion was broken.

My head slipped off the lounger, dangling backwards as Finn pounded into me, and my hands frantically groped his arms, his shoulders, his neck, his back, clinging to him as the incredible friction tore through me.

My hips rose to meet his, urging him on, demanding everything he had, and he gave it without hesitation.

The huge room filled with the sounds of fucking, the slap of skin on skin, the sharp panting of my breath, the ragged gasps of Finn's.

Sweet heat built deep and low inside, a wave gathering speed, and I locked my ankles around his hips, as if I could pull him even deeper.

"Oh God, I'm close," I gasped, gripping the back of Finn's neck, my nails digging in.

He shifted slightly, changing angle, and

Oh

Fuck

YES

I came in a blinding rush of lights, the muscles in my thighs locking tight, my head flung back as I screamed his name, my eyes squeezed shut against the relentless onslaught of sheer fucking bliss.

Finn held me still, his hands bruising on my hips, plunging deep one more time as he followed me over that edge with a hoarse groan.

I couldn't breathe.

I couldn't think.

Nothing had ever felt this fucking good.

But as I slowly came down from the post-sex high, a little niggle crept into my mind.

Now that I knew how spectacular sex with Finn Donovan was, I couldn't imagine anyone else would ever compare.

So how could I ever give him up?

***

I leaned against Finn's chest, his knees drawn up on either side of me as we sat on the lounger. My heart still pounded, my throat was raw, and my whole body felt boneless and blissed out, fucked into near euphoria.

A sudden giggle bubbled up.

"What's so funny?" Finn asked.

"Just . . . everything. You're one of the biggest rockstars in the world, I'm a nobody, and now we're fucking on the loungers next to your pool. Like, how is this even real?"

Camden had described feeling like this when she first married Jude. He'd proved to her it wasn't a dream by pinching her butt.

At the time, I hadn't understood how someone could feel like something was a dream even as they were experiencing it, but now I could.

Finn nudged me with his knee. "It feels real to me."

"It is, and that's what's so crazy. It's like I'm in a rom-com, or some chick-lit book, not actual reality."

"Says the writer."

I tipped back my head to look at him. "I'm a journalist, not a novelist. Even if I had a clue how to write a book, you can't seriously think I'd write about our sex life."

He grinned. "We officially have a sex life now?"

"This is the fourth time we've fucked, so yeah, I'd say so."

Finn idly twisted a few strands of my hair around his finger. "Obviously I'd never be happy with you writing anything personal, but maybe you could write a romance novel about a dashing rockstar and all the amazing orgasms he can provide."

I snort-laughed. "Okay, what would you like me to call it?"

"You're the writer, that's your job."

I thought about it. "I could call it So I'm Dating a Rockstar. You know, like that old movie, So I Married An Axe Murderer? Did you ever see that?"

"Come, let us dance like children of the night," Finn recited one of the more memorable quotes, and I smiled.

"That's a yes, then."

"It's a pretty obscure reference though, I'm not sure everyone would get it," Finn said. "Besides, I wouldn't call what we're doing dating, exactly."

"So I'm Fucking A Rockstar doesn't quite have the same ring to it, and it would be a lot harder to market."

He laughed.

The lights suddenly went out.

I jumped, grabbing Finn's arm. It was still daylight, but black clouds had boiled in while we weren't looking, blotting out the sun and turning everything to shadow. The pool room, which had been bright and white and inviting, was now full of shifting darkness, and I could no longer see the bottom of the pool.

A fist of fear reached up and grabbed my throat.

"Finn?" I whispered. "What's going on?"

"Power cut. It's a miracle it hasn't happened already," he said.

I relaxed a little. "That's not such a big deal. I mean, the power will come back on, right?"

Finn didn't answer.

My throat squeezed again.

"Right?" I said, looking up at him.

Finn's jaw was clenched, his eyebrows pulled down. "Hopefully, but we have no idea how long that'll take."

I looked around the darkened room again and shivered. How had a change of lighting made it so creepy in here?

"We can find our way without the lights, though, can't we?" I said.

"It's not the lights I'm worried about. It's the heating," Finn said.

His voice was steady, but there was a definite edge to it – not fear, exactly, but a measure of unease.

A chill rushed over me.

All the weeks I'd been here had been spent in a T-shirt and either shorts or jeans – it had been easy to forget the lethal conditions outside. Now that reality was rushing back.

Finn got up and hurried to fetch us towels. Our clothes still lay in soggy heaps here and there around the poolside.

"We need to get dry clothes on and get into the living room. At least there we'll have the fire," he said.

I slung a towel around my shoulders. "What happens if the power doesn't come back on?" I asked.

Finn didn't answer.