“I have been very good,” he pointed out, a low rumble to his voice as he shifted further into Finn’s lap, fingers baring a little dark skin at Finn’s hip and then slowly sliding beneath fabric.

“And we can’t even do a quarter of what I’m picturing, because I can’t stop picturing her. I’m being as good as I can, Finn, but I swear my blood starts boiling every time I touch her...”