Page 97 of Manacled Hearts

Before I can get myself wet all over again, I jump out of bed and pull my T-shirt on. This room doesn’t have an en-suite bathroom, so I open the door peeking out. Okay, I’m on a small corridor, there’s bright light at the end of it, and a few more doors here, but all is quiet. There’s bound to be a bathroom here. I try the door across from me, pressing the handle slowly.

Warm sea salt and dark chocolate hits me with such ferociousness my mouth is parched in an instant. Though there’s nothing but darkness in here, the blinds closed and curtains drawn, I know I’ll find no bathroom if I turn the lights on. And yet, my feet seem to have a mind of their own, because they advance in the dark room, leaving the door ajar. A faint trail of light trickles in, right on the strong form sleeping under a thin sheet. The blonde curly strands of his hair brush against his neck, his strong bare back facing me, and I itch to run my hand through those locks and trace his muscles with the tips of my fingers. As I near him, I see a few faint scars on his skin, and I can’t help but wonder what dared mark him. My gaze draws down his muscled back, lean and strong, all the way to where the thin sheet barely covers the curve of his ass. And god dammit, what an ass. If only that sheet would magically slide lower.

I have no idea what I’m thinking, if I’m sane at all, because my fingers are now ghosting against his spine. I can’t control the need to find out what he feels like. If he’s as warm and soft as I imagine him to be. If his muscles feel as magnificent as I think when they flex beneath my palm.

Then his softness tickles my fingertips, and I could groan if I didn’t need to hold in my breath. I slowly run them down his spine, and when I reach the middle he flinches, but not startled, more like his spine rolls into my touch. He doesn’t stir though, doesn’t wake up, his breathing slightly quicker, but I think he’s still sleeping. So, I continue my exploration, sliding down his spine until my prize is just about in sight and I can reveal at least a bit of that stunning ass. He feels so good under my touch, I itch to risk it and splay my palm over him, but that would truly be foolish.

Maybe he’s a heavy sleeper, and I can get away with it.

Or maybe I should count my blessings and get the heck out of here before the man wakes up and finds me groping him.

I don’t get to make my decision.

Like lightning he moves, grabbing my wrist and hauling me up until he can reach my waist, using it to flip me over and slam my back against his soft bed. I only manage a gasp, too stunned to even register my wrists being trapped above my head, held in one of his hands. Or his thigh pinning my legs to the comfortable mattress. Only when his heaving, strong breaths touch my bare skin do I notice my T-shirt is bunched up above my waist, and I’m bared to him. Since I was technically going to the bathroom, that’s the only thing I pulled on, thinking it’s long enough to cover me.

I tug at his hold, urging him to let me go before he notices my exposed core, though only the short curls I refuse to shave are on display, as the hidden part of me is getting increasingly damp at this proximity. At the constraints.

“What do you think you’re doing, Evie darling?”

I melt into the bed at his rough, morning voice, tainted with sleep and needy dreams. It takes me a few moments to remember I was supposed to struggle to break free. And yet, I allow a few more moments because his hot breath against my skin feels like summer sun and beautiful beach days.

“Let me go.” I tug at his hand, trying to free my own.

I do the same with my legs, but the moment my thighs tighten, I decide against it, only, now I’m all too conscious of the damp patch I might be leaving on his expensive sheets.

“Answer me.” He leans in, his nose dangerously close to my cheek.

When I turn my head in the opposite direction, I realize what a huge mistake it was. His hot breath snakes down my throat, settling in the crook of my neck, and nothing can stop the shudder that rattles my skin and spreads goosebumps on every inch of my body.

“I—I was”—deep inhale—“looking for the bathroom.”

“And you thought that touching me while I slept was going to lead you there?” His breathy voice is even closer, the heat of him brushing over my skin. I’m squirming, but I tell myself it’s because I’m trying to break loose.

“It was leading to something,” I mutter sarcastically under my breath, and I genuinely want to slap myself for still thinking of his ass.

Such a good ass, though.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” I quip.

“You’re playing with fire, Evie darling.”

I turn my attention back to him, and even in this darkness, the blue of his eyes shines and I hold onto every speckle. “Let it burn me then, because I’m sick of this aching cold.”

He’s on me before the next breath reaches my lungs, bracing himself on the arm that holds my wrists trapped. His weight presses me into the mattress, and the thigh that pinned me is now slid under one of my legs, spreading me open.

“Finnigan…” I all but moan.

“Don’t, Evelyn. Don’t say my name like it’s the air that breathes life into you because I’m tainted down to the bone, and my soul will only scorch yours.”

“There is nothing left to scorch, Finnigan. I was corrupted long before your soul touched mine. All I can do is burn. Please Finnigan… please—”

He swallows my next words, crushing his lips to mine in the most brutal, shattering kiss. He breathes me in like my life-force is the only thing that can keep his soul alive, and when he pushes his tongue between my lips, nothing can stop the moan that vibrates through my whole flesh.

With a faint growl rumbling in his chest, he deepens the kiss, pressing me harder in the mattress. Our tongues move against each other, chasing the pleasure only the other can give, our lips molding together like two pieces that were once whole and now found their mate again. The only break he takes is to nip at my tongue, or my lips, plunging back in and stealing every single one of my breaths before he feeds them back to me, enriched with all that is him.

I’m lost in the myriad of sensations until a shock of pure pleasure rips through my core. I gasp into his mouth and my hips roll on instinct, to find the source of that rippling pleasure. A satiny, hard length strokes against me, rubbing that charged bundle of nerves, as it grinds up and down. The insight that he sleeps naked brings a hot flush to my cheeks.

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