Page 86 of Rupture

She wanted to erase it, rewrite it.With Finn.“Wash me.”

Silently, he squeezed body wash onto the sponge, soap foaming between his large hands. “Come here.”

He pulled her back against him, her spine meeting the solid heat of his chest, his iron-hard cock pressing against the curve of her lower back.

Slowly, deliberately, he ran the soapy sponge over her skin, sweeping across the delicate slope of her shoulders, down the curve of her arms. Then lower, circling her breasts, teasing her nipples into aroused taut peaks.

Rose sighed, her eyes fluttering shut. Without sight, everything sharpened. The silken slide of lather against her skin, the rasp of his breath at her ear, the shifting lap of warm water around them.

She had waited so long for this.

For him.

His hands moved lower, dragging soap-slick heat down her stomach. His touch ignited embers beneath her skinthat caught and flared. She wanted him to linger. To move faster. To go lower. To shatter her completely.

His mouth found her neck again, teeth nipping, teasing her apart with every glorious bite, every scrape of stubble. Something brittle in her detonated under his touch.

He slid the sponge between her thighs, its texture a delicious contrast to the glide of creamy lather.

Oh God?—

The touch of his fingers.

Skilled and devastating.

Pleasure jolted through her as he parted her folds, his thick fingers finding the swollen bud at her center. A breathy moan escaped her as he circled her clit with slow, ruthless precision. One powerful arm banded around her waist, trapping her against him.

Her hips jerked, greedy for more. But Finn controlled the rhythm, controlled her. His voice guttural in her ear. “Good girl.”

Don’t stop. Never stop.

Exquisite pleasure gathered, a storm churning inside her, its power rising?—

She arched, gasping, her breath fusing with his. Her fingers fisted in his damp hair as he dragged her mercilessly higher.

She was coming apart.Her breath was ragged, her body bowstring-tight?—

Finn.

A white-hot deluge of sensation tore through her. Lightning on water. The world blurred, her thoughts splintering as she trembled in his arms, surrendering.

Rose sagged, boneless, knowing she couldn’t lie to herself any more.

She was his.

And nothing in the world could ever change that now.

49

Finn heldRose as the aftershocks of pleasure rippled through her, her breath stuttering against his skin. He pressed soothing kisses to her temple, his own control was disintegrating by the second.

This beautiful, brilliant, maddening woman—she was so unlike anything he thought he wanted. And yet, nothing in his life had ever felt as right as holding Rose in his arms.

Was it reckless to want more than this fleeting moment? To imagine a life with her. Not just now, but always?

She shifted against him, turning in his embrace, her lips parting as she licked them absently. Her eyes, hazy and unfocused from the pleasure he’d wrung from her, held a vulnerability he hadn’t seen before.

Her fingers skated up his arm, featherlight, tracing the ink winding over his skin.

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