CHAPTER 26
Am I still a virgin?
My mind is reeling, trying to find the answer. None comes because I don’t know what the truth is anymore.
Your body knows, Evelyn.
The sharp pain that tore through me is the answer. The harsh flex of my muscles, my straining lungs, the foreign, aching fullness inside of me, they’re all answers. If those aren’t enough, Finnigan’s gaze, growing increasingly more alarmed, is a definite tell.
“I—I didn’t think so. I shouldn’t be.”
I worked hard to keep the faint memories and flashbacks of the two men on top of me at bay. Now, as my body adjusts to the searing burn and the thick length of Finnigan’s cock sheathed deep, I question the little memories I do have.
“I presumed they raped me here, too,” I whisper, the ache straining my voice.
He cocks one eyebrow, the alarmed expressions shifting to a darker, more possessive direction. “Here… too?”
“Well, Frankie B started… umm.” Damn, having this conversation now, in this position, is a whole other level of awkward. “You know—behind.”
Finnigan presses his lips together, swallowing hard. “And you don’t remember them touching you… here.” He’s trying his best to be kind and delicate, but he’s not managing to control the horror and anger marring his beautiful features. I could pay for a mirror at this moment, so I can see what look is on mine.
“The memories from after they drugged me are in pieces, so I assumed because of the pain I felt for a while after. Now I presume it was just… general area trauma?” I attempt a shrug but stop myself midway at Finnigan’s pained shift in his features. I’ve adjusted to what happened to me, but I don’t think he’s processed it.
As the burning between my legs eases, the reality sinks in—I was still a virgin. They didn’t take this away from me.
Eventually, he nods, expression still unsettled, and shifts slightly. With that simple gesture his whole body moves too, and I gasp at the brief stroke inside of me. I flex my walls too, and he frowns, but the strain in his eyebrows isn’t annoyance. It’s restraint. What was a burn around my entrance turned into a dull ache, but threads of pleasure are weaving themselves through.
Finnigan is my first. I’m not completely ruined.
“Finnigan…”
“Yes?”
“Please move.”
And he does. Too fast only the tip of his cock remains inside of me, and I realize as he got there that he misunderstood me. I press my heels into his ass, keeping him from leaving me. “No. Move inside of me.”
“But you—”
“I get a second chance,” I interrupt. “I’m not ruined… and there’s no way I’m stopping this.”
“Ruined? Oh, Evie darling. You are goddamn perfect.” He leans in, pressing a bruising kiss to my lips, and I’m not sure if the moan vibrating between us is mine or his.
Then he moves, sliding back inside of me until he finds home, pulling pleasure from my nerves, and I feel like my body is mine again.
“Again…” I beg on a breathy voice, and he responds with a deep rumble in his throat that’s much hotter than it should really be.
The man delivers, stroking out of me until I miss the fulness of him, then pushes back in. Only, this time he doesn’t wait for me to ask for more. He moves with slow, deliberate thrusts that bring a new flurry of sensations to my core. I’m losing myself in the feverish grinding, but Finnigan brings himself down to earth after each stroke, brows drawn together, as his soft gaze fixes on me. Deep emotions darken his irises, and lips tight like he’s holding his breath.
“Let go…” I beg him. “I’m okay, Finnigan. Please, I need more.” I wrap my hands around his neck, tugging him to me and clinging desperately until his face is buried in the crook of my neck.
The moment his breath sparks over my skin on his deep groan, and his hand tightens around my thigh, I know his concern is easing.
He settles into a quickening rhythm, driven by my mewls and rolling hips, and my core begins to burn all over again. But, my god, this is a good burn.
No.
An incredible one.
He’s touching parts of me that never existed before him, and I’m catching fire with every stroke.
“Jesus Christ, Evie, you feel…” He trails off, rising on one arm braced next to me, gaze heated as it seizes mine.
Sighing, he drives harder into me, yet still holding onto a touch of restraint. I want more. I want it harder, faster, harsher. Yet, his care in these moments makes me trust him with my body more than I trust myself with it. So, I relinquish the control, following his lead, and let him take care of me.
“I feel…?” I urge him to continue.
His hips jerk, and goosebumps spread over my skin at the rush of lightning ripping through my core as a moan fills the air.
“You feel like a dream that should have never come true.”
With harsh jerks of his hips, he punctuates the heart-shattering confession, his cock deliciously snug inside of me driving maddening pleasure through my nerves. His movements are more powerful, my body hitching up on the bed, and I brace myself with one hand against the padded headboard.
“Oh god, Finnigan… Yes!” I hold onto the back of his neck with my other hand, anchoring myself as his hips roll in long, hard strokes that threaten to become wilder.
But the threat only lingers, and I’m climbing this mountain of ecstasy, at an excruciatingly steady pace, the pleasure coiling in my core growing stronger.
“More,” I demand, choosing to forget about relinquishing that control to him, and slam my hips up to meet his thrust. A hint of discomfort lingers, but I ignore it. I’ve had my share of pain, and I’m feeding on the control I have over this one. It’s finally on my terms.
“You like that, Evie darling?” Thrust. “You like my cock filling that sweet”—thrust—“tight pussy of yours?” Thrust.
Damn his dirty, dirty mouth.
“I’m not sure you do. Do you like filling my pussy, Finnigan? Slick walls strangling your cock? Because you seem… restrained.” I tease him, challenging his resolve.
“Jesus fuck, Evelyn!” the man growls my name like he’s about to devour me whole, the brightness of his eyes smoldering with darkness, “I don’t deserve you, but I’m going to keep you anyway.”
And then he breaks.
Walls of restraint crumble to the edges of us and there is nothing more keeping us apart, holding us back.
He pulls back on his haunches, grabs my legs, and pins them on his shoulders, slipping his cock out of me in the process. I never thought this type of loss could make me cry out, but it does. He rewards me with a devastating smirk as he holds my legs with one arm, tight against his chest, and lifts me to slide a pillow under my ass. I’m confused, but then he slides his knees to the sides and just like that, we align perfectly. With the other hand he guides his cock back at my entrance and I bite my lip as my walls constrict, begging to be stretched.
The bastard teases me though, rubbing the smooth head up and down through my folds, and when he presses it against my sensitive clit, my back arches on a soft whimper. He picks that moment to thrust back into me, and I think I finally understand what a religious experience is, because this sure as hell feels like one. I reach up, bracing against the headboard just as this devil of a man presses his free hand on my belly. My gaze flies to him, mouth wide on a silent cry as his cock prods against a part of me that threatens to drive me up the walls.
“Finnigan…” I whisper, though it sounds more like I’m praying to him.
“I got you, Evie darling.”
And boy, does he.
He glides into me with long, powerful strokes, punctuating each one with a jerk of his hips as his hand presses on my lower belly. He’s molten lava inside my core, a blazing ecstasy pushing me deeper into this world where only pleasure exists. We find a maddening rhythm, the shape of him fitting so perfectly around mine, and my heart hurts that we fit together so well. That we will not experience this beautiful collision if I leave.
Those thoughts are drowned by the song of whimpers, growls, and heavy breaths we compose. We lace it with lust that grows stronger. Quicker. Louder. That song vibrates through my flesh, settling in that aching spot inside my core that Finnigan rubs against with each endearingly punishing stroke.
“I can’t hold myself back, Evie. You’re so—fuck! You’re everything.”
I cry out when his words land low in my belly, a quake shattering through my core. Even as his tone bears accusations, blame, but I’m not sure if it’s for me or him. His eyes though… his eyes are an explosive blaze of need. A primal desire that demands so much more than my pleasure. It wants my soul.
You’re everything…
The hunger in his words scrapes against my heart, leaving me breathless with fear.
I don’t get a chance to dwell on the feeling when Finnigan’s thumb bears down on the aching bundle of nerves at the apex of my folds. He circles it with such deliberate movements, adding just the right amount of pressure for my back to arch, and my legs squeeze around his head. Or neck. I may be suffocating the man, but as long as he fucks me like this through the loss of air, I’m okay with it.
“Oh, Finn—my God, Finnigan I think—” I cry out and cover my mouth with my forearm, biting down.
The roaring ecstasy doesn’t come out of nowhere. It blooms deep in my belly, spreading like silk threads weaved with electric fire all through my body. It’s an omen of pleasure curling my toes and locking my arched back, and that blaze detonates around his thick, rigid length with such viciousness, stars dance in my vision. The waves of euphoria roll me deeper in this trance where nothing but pleasure and Finnigan exist, his hands stroking my body, his cock jerking violently, turning into molten lava inside my own warmth, his enticing grunts of pleasure… my name on his lips like a chant for more. For everything.
This is it. The culmination of all those aching dreams that made the nightmares harder to remember.
I find my voice again, panting like a wanton whore as my shaking legs fall around him just as he drops on top of my body, caging me in under his satisfying weight. I wrap my arms around him, unwilling to let go of this moment, and hold him as close to me as I can, pushing back the need to crawl under his skin and feed my obsession for this man. He doesn’t protest one bit, but peppers soft pecks on my forehead, my temples, the apples of my cheeks.
The intimacy of this moment bears promises of all we’re not allowing ourselves to hope for.
It doesn’t feel like a beginning, but an end. The end of what we were separately, who we were alone, and what our souls were missing.