Page 69 of Lightness In My Dark

“His breath on your face as his biting words ‘you’re his’ chewed at you.”

Wren’s fists and legs flew at the bag. Her ragged breath and tears stayed with each lunge until she slunk to the floor, crying.

“Stop being a baby and get up!”

“Fuck you!” She tore her gloves off and whipped them at me.

I wanted to keep the anger and momentum, so I slung her over my shoulder and put her in the ring. I leaped around and grabbed at her shirt.

“Leave me alone, you fucking asshole!”

“Stop me!”

I sprung around, snatching her sweatshirt, patting her butt. Anything to keep her alert. With tight fists, she attacked me, punching me in the stomach, trying to kick me in the balls.

“That’s right. Get pissed. Show me how you feel about Conner.”

Wren screamed at me while defending herself, cursing, telling me how much she hated me. She stumbled and fell onto her back, rolling into a fetal position. Her sobs reverberated throughout the gym as I stood over her. The bastard inside me provoked her. Shitty of me to resort to such measures. But I couldn’t let all the progress we made go to waste. The longer she curled into her own world, the harder it would be to rescue her. And that’s what I was trying to do—rescue her. From herself. From me. From anyone who wanted to hurt her.

I squatted down and squeezed her in my lap. “You did good,mia piccola.” I kissed her hair, her face planted into my chest, soaking it. “Let me show you how to defend yourself.”

Wren’s crying subsided with a slight nod. Releasing, I turned her around, her back to my chest and demonstrated self-defense moves. For the rest of the hour, she listened and did what I asked.

Instead of going straight home, I stopped at a diner because who doesn’t love shit food when they are down and out. A little brightness overtook Wren’s face as we ordered cheeseburgers, fries, and milkshakes. We didn’t talk much. We ate in silence, taking in the other diners, the food, and checking in on one another.

After our fill, I gunned the motorcycle, shot out onto the highway, and drove. Without a destination in mind, I rode with Wren clasping me close, the wind rippling through our clothes, and it was freeing. It took us away from thinking, work, and dancing around the tight emotions. The fresh air invigorating. When we returned home, she went for a walk around the property. I left her alone. She had the will to get out of the house, which was good enough for me.

Chapter 31 - Buffing the Muffin

WREN

Finn taught me self-defense, and during that time, I shed the shame while building confidence. After the initial gym session, he was patient and kind, charming me with his strength and gentle nature. I clung to him like a koala in a tree, needing his security. I’m sure my deprivation to win his touch weighed on his tolerance, yet he never showed it. He had experienced trauma as a child, and through it, he rose like a phoenix, extending his graciousness to my mending. I eased my grip on Finn during the transformation period, finding my footing to face past demons. An everyday ease to accept what was and embrace what is. I hadn’t completely healed, but I became grounded over the weeks that followed. Enough to stand on my own. The scars between my legs were the leftovers of my physical wounds.

If I declined the time to heal, I would have missed it—missed the altered emotions I had for Finn, which I couldn’t deny. I fell in love with him. Wrapped into a gorgeous man was strength, tenderness, and humor. Finn wore dominance like cologne. It soaked into his skin and permeated onto others. I dreamed about him, and when together, I cherished every minute, not wanting it to end. In the following weeks, we embraced each other’s company, subtle touches, glances when the other wasn’t looking, and talks about our past, present, and future.

Whenever Finn was around, my eyes wandered over to him, filling my senses with raunchy thoughts. In dreams and awake, my mind twisted with cravings of his touch, taste, smell, and him buried inside me. It developed into a habit. A hunger to savor being alive. Conner hadn’t destroyed my sexuality.

April came in with a hearty helping of storms. I laid on the rugs in my yoga room. My knees bent toward the ceiling, hands on my stomach, while I watched the rain droplets trickle and spread down the window, distorting the outdoor garden. I hadn’t started my workout routine. The calming of the rain, the soothing loop of Chris Stapleton’s songs in the background, deepened my respite.

Upon hearing Stapleton’sStarting Over, my eyes closed to the words, fingers drumming on my stomach. Permittance to do something I hadn’t done in a long time. One hand continued its thrumming while the other edged downward, slithering underneath my shorts. My legs widened, dipping my fingers between my wet folds. A gasp escaped from this simple touch. Envisioning Finn, his fingers played a loving tune on my core, a buildup in chorus, jamming with intensity. Visions flew with images of Finn. His touch relieving my blistering skin, lips, quenching my cracked and thirsty desires. Teeth capturing my bottom lip, inciting throbs in a lascivious way.

I turned toward a noise. Hooded eyes found Finn by the door, sliding to the floor. My hand faltered as our eyes locked and never disconnected. One foot on the floor, leg bent, he freed his erection from his gym shorts, and stroked it, slow and disciplined, an invitation for me to resume. His hand tugged on his cock and balls as if prepping them. Finn’s head fell back on the door, his hand sliding, jerking moans, unsure which one of us they came from. His seductive gaze and messy hair only added to my need. The release I’ve kept contained for years. His mouth partly opened, face tortured by his own wants. He was eager for us to come. Up and down, in and out, our pace picked up, gasps, groans, and then my back arched as the tremor rattled through me, and shortly after, Finn grunted out his release. He made provocative noises, intensifying my brain fog.

Still scrutinizing each other, we stood, and then Finn disappeared for a few minutes before returning naked. My pulse intensified as he stalked toward me. His body, destructive as sin and perpetual pleasure. Muscular and lithe, mimicking a panther. I prepared for him to take from me. To use my body like all the others he’s been with, disconnecting from passion.

Only Finn surprised me. He stood a foot away, eyes bursting with expression, want, hesitation, and what one might assume, vulnerability. A brush of his hand to my cheek, lips hovering over mine before a ghost of a kiss, uncertain it happened at all. Finn's eyes were like a vintage photo, developing from dark to light with his moods. At that moment, they were in their darkest phase.

Stapleton’sTennessee Whiskeylyrics rocked us into cravings. Finn slipped his fingers underneath my sports bra, lifting it over my head, exposing my small breasts for the first time. The cool air hardened my nipples. There wasn’t an urge to cover myself, only to please him.

Finn’s breath fanned my body, making a downward path until he was kneeling. His mouth and hands read me like braille, making me his. Fingers hooked inside my shorts, lowering them to the floor. Everything slowed. Disguised as sparklers, each kiss, lick, nip along my stomach zapped me from head to toe. He positioned me to straddle his thighs. Finn’s mouth languidly caressed my skin, his unshaven jaw inflaming its paleness.

With an unrelenting mouth, he asked in a serrated voice, “Are you okay, Wren?” I nodded. “Tell me.”

“I’m good.”

He stopped, eyebrow cocked, and asked, “Just good?”

An accordion grin stretched across my face. “Better than good.”

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