Page 95 of Manacled Hearts

I couldn’t deny my body any longer even if I tried.

The moment I press my hand over my bare breast, the softest of moan fills the dark bedroom. I splay the other palm on my belly, slowly sliding down, teasing myself with the anticipation that tortures me further. The moment the tips of my fingers reach the hood of my clit, my back arches off the bed and there’s nothing soft about the sound escaping from my mouth next.

I rub the bundle of nerves in slow, demanding circles, images of Finnigan flashing through my mind, some out of spite, some because there’s no one else I could possibly think of, and the fire begins to rage in my belly.

“Oh… Finnigan,” I whisper on a breathless moan as I slide my fingers down, parting myself until I reach that tight opening.

My lips part in a gasp at the flurry of sensations, the ache and emptiness of them all, and I cry out into the darkness.

Then the darkness moves.

I tense, no time to scream or react before it rushes over me and covers my mouth. No time to fight as it rips my hand away from my sleek center, replacing it with his own. I gasp against his hand and the scent of sea salt and dark chocolate melt their way through me. Recognition hits, the scent flowing right out of my dream.

He squeezes my pussy and shame fills me when my back arches involuntarily at the attack. But I still try to fight beneath him, attempting to escape in case my nose betrays me. I try to kick, but he presses harder against me, and I let out a dirty, wanton cry against his palm. Gripping his wrist, I push it away, but it doesn’t budge. But I’m not actually that sure if I’m not so much pushing, as I am holding onto him.

I freeze in place as he slides his fingers down the sleek seam of me. It’s not panic screaming at me now, it’s how wrong I am for getting even wetter.

“I told you…”

All rational thought burns out of my mind when the darkness speaks with the voice from my dream.

“I told you how dangerous it is to cross this line.” Finnigan’s whisper is heavy, creeping with a decadent darkness.

I can’t believe he was in the bedroom. Watching me sleep. Watching me get naked.

“Is this what you were about to do, even when I forbade you to touch yourself with my name on your lips?” One finger pushes inside of me, stretching me too fast. It may actually be more than one.

“So fucking tight.” He groans more to himself than me.

But as he pulls out and dives in again even deeper, I release his forearm and grab into whatever covers his chest, holding on for dear life because I think I’m falling. Falling in this pit of aching need and burning pleasure.

“Is this what you so desperately want, that you can’t follow… one. Simple. Order?” He punctuates each word with a hard stroke of his fingers, pulling muffled cries out of me.

“You drive me fucking crazy!”

Thrust.

“So mad that I move through the shadows when I hear your feverish dreams.”

Thrust.

“Watching you only to find you moaning my name, not screaming in fear of your nightmares.”

Thrust.

He’s punishing me with pleasure for his own desires.

“I haven’t been able to sleep without knowing you’re okay.”

Thrust.

“Without knowing you’re a good…” Thrust. “Fucking…” Thrust. “Girl.”

I’m losing my mind. Pushed closer to the flaming pit that will change my whole damn life, but not close enough that I feel it’s whole destruction.

“Is this why you want to cross the motherfucking line?!”

He curls those digits, touching a part of me I’ve never been able to find, and my moans turn wild.

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