Page 49 of Destroy Me
“But they had to be proud of you, Lyse.” Who wouldn’t be?
“They were. I knew they were. The problem wasn’t them; it was my own head.” Her arms crossed over her stomach, holding tight. “I didn’t want to risk them not wanting me.”
“And now you’re thinkin’, because of everything that’s happened, that sleeping with me will keep me wanting you?”
She sniffled. “That sounds stupid. Like the only reason I’d want to have sex with you is to force you to stay with me.”
It didn’t sound stupid; it sounded insecure. He hadn’t realized just how insecure she felt until that moment. So many wounds that needed healing.
He angled his legs open, held out a hand to her. “C’mere, love.”
She did, slowly, easing closer like a wary animal. Afraid of rejection. Embarrassed to reveal her inadequacies. Every person had them, but talking about them…never easy.
When she got close enough, he took her hand and yanked her into him. He couldn’t wait another second to hold her against him, to smother this woman in warmth and acceptance and…caring, maybe. Not love—what the feck did he know about love?—but Christ, he cared about her, always had, even when he’d thought she’d tried to kill him. He wouldn’t have been so angry otherwise.
Her body was so small in his arms, petite, but with padding in all the right places. She didn’t feel like bones—her breasts mounded against his chest, and her ass… He groaned. Two handfuls of plump flesh he couldn’t wait to get in his grip. But for now he simply wound his arms around her like chains and refused to let go.
“I don’t think I’m going to be any good at this,” she said, the words muffled into his neck.
If she was any better at turning him on, he might have a problem with endurance. God’s truth. “Lyse, you breathe and I want you. Right now I’m having a time not pulling you under me and showing you exactly how good we could be together. All you have to do is show up, love. Everything else will happen as it’s supposed to.” He’d be making sure of it.
“Then why haven’t you…”
He eased back so he could see her face. “Why haven’t we had sex yet?”
She bit her bottom lip, the white of her teeth shining in the dark. Nodded.
He pulled the flesh from her bite and rubbed his thumb along the bruised curve of her lip. “I guess I wanted it to be perfect for you. Like you must’ve imagined it would be after all this time.”
A little laugh escaped her. “I don’t think we’re going to get more perfect than you inside me. And I don’t want to wait any longer.”
“You’re not just saying that because you feel obligated?”
She shook her head. “I know I’m screwed up, Fionn. I know the scars from the past couple of months won’t go away overnight, for either of us. But…if you want me…I desperately need you to show me.
“Take me. Right now.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lyse felt like she was standing there with her heart in her hands, begging him to love her. It didn’t matter if he loved her, not for this. He would take care of her; she knew that. And she desperately needed for this moment to finally come to pass. She’d deal with whether he returned her feelings or not later.
Much later.
Fionn sat on the tall bed in front of her, and she still had to look up to see his face. His chest was bare, all that creamy skin. He was a true redhead, his body pale where his shirt covered, lightly tanned where it didn’t, with a sprinkle of freckles across his shoulders that she wanted to explore with her tongue, if only she could get the courage.
Instead she stared into those bright green eyes and waited. She hadn’t taken a breath in forever, but she waited. Wanting him. Loving him.
Until his palms dropped to her thighs and skimmed up along the sensitive skin, taking her shirt with him. Up, up, up. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and she knew the minute his gaze landed on her breasts.
He groaned.
Her back arched instinctively, offering herself to him. She watched from beneath heavy-lidded eyes as he moved in, his mouth coming closer, opening. He didn’t tease her, didn’t make her wait—there was no licking, no rubbing of his lips across the pink, flushed skin. No, he latched on to her hard, aching nipple and sucked immediately.
“Fionn!”
Oh God, she’d known this would be good, but she could never have imagined how good, as if her every thought sank into the tug on her breast until nothing existed but Fionn’s mouth, her breath, and the zing of pleasure shooting from nipple to core and back again. She squeezed her thighs together, whining with the ache in her clit, powerless to control the hunger rising so fast and furious inside her.
When he let go, he scraped his teeth along the too-sensitive skin, and Lyse had to fight to hold back a scream. “I knew you’d be like this. My pretty wan.” He blew a warm breath over the moisture he’d left behind, and she could feel her nipple crinkle up, harden even more. “So sensitive. Feck!” His hands tugged at the panties still hugging her hips. “I need to see you.”
