Page 129 of Manacled Hearts

“Like I was made for this tight, little pussy of yours.”

He pulls out and pushes back in on a powerful thrust, but this is not like our first time. He doesn’t pause. He doesn’t linger. He doesn’t wait to give me time to adjust. He drives into me in punishing strokes, fingers digging into my flesh as he pulls me to meet his hips each time he slams back in. I have nothing to hold onto, the edge of the hood just out of reach, but it doesn’t matter. He uses me like a puppet, controlling my movements or lack thereof, holding me just where he wants me as he fucks into me relentlessly, the rhythm quickening, the slap of skin on skin a depraved anthem that echoes through the trees along with our moans and grunts.

I’m quickly turning into a spent mess, unable to function beyond the ability to take all the pleasure he offers, my brain refusing to acknowledge the existence of anything else beyond the man who fucks me like he owes me punishment.

“I would apologize for how quick this is gonna be”—he says in a breathy grunt—“but you’re to blame, dirty Evie. You, with your talented hand, mesmerizing pussy, and sinful eyes.”

“Then punish me…” I cry out as he slams into me with enough force to drive me higher onto the hood, the grill pressing against the front of my thighs. My front is too hot from the engine, but it adds to the adrenaline, the intensity of the moment.

“I intend to.”

He releases me before his palms land on either side of me with a thud that might have dented his car, and fucks me until I my eyes roll back and my legs shake. There’s no space for either of us to reach for my clit, but the heat of the hood, the fabric of my skirt, and the intense friction is more than enough, because in the next moment I cry out, my whole body spasming against him. He thrusts through that orgasm, preying on the sensitivity of my core, even when I feel too tender to keep going.

Finnigan doesn’t care. He pistons into me over and over, his movements fast, but so precise. Enough that I feel another orgasm inching in, and I’m still in disbelief when he whispers into my ear.

“One more, my Evie. Come for me again.”

I don’t know if I can, but for him… I’ll try.

This time I force my hand between the car and me, and when I press two fingers to my clit, stars explode behind my eyes, and my body bursts into infinite goosebumps. Finnigan’s cock throbs inside of me, suddenly so much warmer, twitching and prolonging my orgasm until I’m entirely limp and spent.

As I lie there, waiting for him to rescue me since there’s not enough strength in my muscles to get up and drag myself back in the car, I wonder… how am I supposed to go back to my previous life, when this man is beyond my wildest imagination?

Memories of him will never be enough.

I need the real Finnigan Hennessey in my life.

If he’ll take me.

CHAPTER 31

FINNIGAN

I pull the car in next to four others parked in front of Vincent’s house, and I’m a bit apprehensive at the sleek, black SUV I don’t recognize.

“Looks like we’re not the first ones here,” Evelyn states, looking over to the row of vehicles, after she closes the mirror she just checked herself in.

She had to fix her makeup after what we did, but the sight of her barely disheveled look made me crave to ruin her even more. An image of my sweet Evelyn, with black makeup running down her cheeks as she chokes on my cock has been floating through my mind incessantly, and at this point, I’m praying that it’s a premonition.

“Well, I’m glad they got here before our impromptu stop,” I answer, cocking an eyebrow with a grin.

She blushes instantly, and I can’t possibly miss how she squeezes her thighs together at the fresh memory imprinted between them. Though, I would much rather it would be me between them right now. Again. And a thousand times after.

I’ve had more women than I could count, and none out of vanity, but need. Only, that need wasn’t physical, it was mental… emotional. The only purpose for it was to distract me from what I really craved, but after the way I lost Hanna, I couldn’t allow myself those desires. I plugged in the hole with endless women and none of them ever tempted me to want more from them.

Until Evelyn came along.

She drew me in like no other, preyed on vulnerabilities she didn’t know I had, and filled gaps she couldn’t possibly know existed. And I rejected it all from the start. I was foolish to think I could resist her, that I was strong enough. Maybe I didn’t fight it hard enough, or maybe fate really is a thing.

Only, I don’t want to leave the rest to fate.

“Evie”—I shift in the seat and catch the silver and gold of her eyes—“give staying in Queenscove serious thought. For me.”

Her eyes widen for one fleeting moment, before slight concern saddens them.

“I am.”

“Really? Because you speak more of leaving than of staying, and I need you to give this—Queenscove—a real shot. I’ve been thinking about it all. Maya will have to be enrolled in school once all is said and done with Bartiste, and it’s something I can help with. Give it a chance without having one foot out the door.”

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