Page 98 of Manacled Hearts

A needy mewl rips out of me, but he swallows that too, feeding on my pleasure and pressing harder into me. God, he’s so close to where I really need him. All it would take is for him to grind even lower, so the tip of his cock falls between my legs, and then… one hard push.

Would it hurt? Considering what happened that wretched night when we first met, it’s pretty clear I’m no longer a virgin. Though, I’m thankful my memories are vague. So, all Finnigan would give me now is nothing but pleasure.

I roll my hips harder, urging his cock to find home, but it keeps slipping away from me. Over me. Stroking my clit into an ecstasy filled oblivion distracting me from the task at hand.

“Stop making me fuck you.” He grunts against my mouth, still kissing me.

“Never.” I moan back at him.

Then his lips leave mine and we’re both breathless as we look into each other’s eyes.

“I can’t be what you need.”

This again? Fine.

“Then let me go and leave me the hell alone, Finnigan”—for a moment his grip on me loosens—“and I’ll go back to the bar from where you demanded I be retrieved last night, and I’ll find someone who will give me exactly what I need.”

The rumble deep in his chest is what I hoped for as his hold on me tightens once again.

“You think you can go out dressed in your sinful leather outfits or short skirts, driving everyone mad with lust in those filthy bars, and make them think they can wet their dick inside what is…” he trails off.

“What is yours?” I continue for him.

“You can’t be mine, damn it!”

“I already am.”

That settles it, because in the next breath his mouth is on my throat, biting like he hates every inch of my skin before he licks the slight pain away and brings a different ache to my flesh. It settles deep in my belly and between my legs, and he grounds against me harder. I roll my hips seeking his cock like it can give me life, and he shushes me when I moan too loud, reminding me that we are not alone in this apartment.

Ignoring my silent pleas for his cock, he releases my wrists, pushing my T-shirt all the way up, exposing my breasts to his greedy gaze. His nips and licks follow a trail over each one of them, sucking my nipples into his mouth like his new mission is to dare me to make a sound. But he does it oh so well, licking gently before he scrapes his teeth over the sensitive bud, and I could come right here just from that delicious assault.

He moves in the valley between them before my core can find out if it can find release just from that, following a trail down my body until his chin brushes against my trimmed curls. I’m embarrassed. I imagine the army of women he usually has sex with are waxed from head to toe, sleek and soft.

“I’m sorry, I’m not—”

“You are goddamn perfect.” His fingers rake through those curls, as the pad of his palm grounds down against the bundle of nerves, and the shiver breaking through me feels more like a violent tremble.

Then his mouth is on me, and that insecurity disappears with my loud gasp. Finnigan’s tongue parts my lips from the bottom to the very top, groaning so low in his chest, I could cry at the sensation. The second time he does it I whimper as he flattens his tongue like he can’t bear not having all his taste buds experiencing me. He presses his hands against my thighs and pushes them apart, his tongue delving deeper, circling my entrance and disappointingly moving away from it. The moment it slides over my clit and laps at it like it could give me life, I realize it really could. Because like this, drunk on pleasure in Finnigan’s bed, I feel more alive than I ever have. Biting my forearm to muffle a moan, I roll my back as I grind onto his face, seeking my release, and when he sucks that bundle of nerves between his lush lips, I realize the edge is so much closer than I thought it was.

He grunts harsher, displeased, and I feel a tinge of guilt, wondering if he feels ignored. I brace my elbows on the bed and slowly rise, struggling through the onslaught of sensations.

“Did I say I’m done with you?” he hisses.

I yelp as he sits back on his haunches, grabs my ass, and lifts me up to him, circling my belly with one strong, lean arm. I would be upside down if my head and shoulders weren’t still on the bed, and when he buries his face between my legs again, I grab onto his thighs and let him drive me off this magnificent cliff.

He gives special attention to my clit, rolling it between his tongue and lips, nipping at it when my pleasure brings me too close to the roaring flames I’m craving. My sexual experience is mostly fictional, or from random conversations with classmates or co-workers, but I was under the impression that men don’t have much patience when it comes to giving head, and want to make it quick. But Finnigan, oh my, Finnigan is dragging it out like he finds more pleasure in this than I do.

That would be impossible though, because every time he sucks at me, every time his tongue drags between my folds, every time he teases the entrance, the pleasure grows more than I thought it could be possible.

“Evie?”

We both freeze on the bed, his mouth still on me, my nails digging in his strong thighs. Maya’s voice sounded distant beyond Finnigan’s door. I start moving my legs and scooting back to get off the bed, but Finnigan tightens his hold.

“Finnigan, Maya’s coming,” I whisper.

“Then you better hurry, darling.”

The grin he gives me before his mouth is on my clit again, melts me back into the soft mattress. I’m about to protest, but his eyes gleam with mischief. His hand joins the feverish assault, and two fingers sink deep into me. My ass buckles and ankles cross as my legs tighten around his neck, pushing him deeper into me. Scorching heat burns inside my core, spreading through my belly, then explodes through every single nerve of my body until the loud cry I’m forcing back has no choice but to come out.

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