Page 127 of Manacled Hearts

“I did learn something.”

“What, that I have fantasies about being manhandled?!” I can’t believe I just said that.

Finnigan smirks, turning to me with a mischievous grin on his beautiful lips. “That too, and I found that information very useful, as you remember.”

Images flash through my mind of Finnigan moving through the shadows the first time he touched me, and it’s probably the hottest thing that has and will ever have happened to me.

“But that’s not what I was referring to,” he continues. “I learned something valuable about how you feel, or felt, about how you view yourself, and what you struggle with. It didn’t help much then, but now that the line is well and truly crossed, I will do anything in my power to make you feel… right.”

I remember the words I spoke to Morrigan that day. How I felt wrong for wanting to be in a non-consensual situation considering what I went through. That feeling hasn’t left me.

“And what if I don’t want you to?” I ask.

This time he doesn’t turn, but the hand wrapped around my thigh slides up, reaching the warm place between my thighs. The skirt isn’t quite in the way, but I still curse it as he cups me beneath it. As he applies more pressure, I realize the thin cotton of my panties is giving away the effect he has on me.

“Finnigan…” In my mind his name was meant as a protest, but as I grip the sides of the seat, a breath caught in my chest, it came out as nothing more than a desperate, whispered mewl.

“Your body says otherwise, Evie darling.”

He drives casually through the outskirts of Queenscove toward Vincent’s house in the forest, his eyes fixed on the road, but the tips of his fingers scrape against the fabric covering me. I press my back deeper into the seat, squeezing my thighs together, attempting to trap his hand there, though all I end up doing is press him harder against my aching pussy.

“My body could lie.” I finally gather my wits. “It responds, but that doesn’t mean it’s what I want.”

“Stop me then,” he says as a finger slides against the seam of my panties, goosebumps exploding over my flesh where he barely just brushes against it.

My thighs stay pressed together, though I don’t attempt to stop him further.

“If I say no, will you stop?”

“Jesus, Evelyn, of course. Though, I think we can work on your acceptance of yourself and desires, differently.” His finger slides over my skin, pushing my panties to the side, and finds the wet seam of my pussy.

I moan and roll my hips against the seat, my nipples hardening at the shudder that rips through me.

“How do you mean?” I ask on a breathy voice.

“Use the word no to fuel your fantasy. With me, you can enjoy it, play into it.” That wandering digit brushes through my core, and as the car swerves onto a bumpier side road, he drives into me, and a wanton cry spills out. “Relinquish the control and let it drive you deeper into pleasure. And for when you really want me to stop, we’ll set a safe word.”

“S—safe word.” I moan as he adds another finger, pushing into me in a maddening rhythm, not bothering at all to take it slow. Or drive the car slower for that matter, adding to the intense pleasure of it all.

“Yes. Keep it simple and use the word red, or choose a different one you prefer better. And if your mouth is covered, snap your fingers.” This conversation is slightly surreal with his fingers sunk deep inside of me.

But then they curl, and my thighs slide wide open allowing him all the access he wants and I need.

“Red…” I whisper, my hips bucking against the seat as my hands are desperately searching to grab onto something else.

“Red it is, then.” His thrusts grow harsher and my head drops against the headrest, eyes closed as I take his long, thick fingers.

Then the man rolls them, brushing against a part of me that makes my ass shoot up from the seat.

“So damn responsive, Evie darling. And so, so wet.” That boyish grin makes another appearance, and I swear I would jump him if it wasn’t for the whole driving situation.

The road turns darker, the high trees of the forest sheltering it from most of the sun rays, and I wonder who would hear me if I were to scream my ecstasy out there. It makes me want to do it, but Finnigan strokes me to the cusp of exploding, and not an inch past that threshold. I want to bathe in the pleasure of it all. It burns me from the inside, searing my nerves and turning me into a puddle of need and unbearable cravings.

“Jesus fuck, Evelyn. I could just—”

“I’m so close,” I interrupt in a breathy whisper, grabbing onto his forearm and squeezing it to me. “Oh, Finnigan, please…”

“You’re so beautiful when you beg. I almost don’t want to push you over the edge so I can enjoy it for longer.”

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