28. Fintan
FINTAN
I don’t take Tiernan up on it.
It’s not time yet. I don’t want to take her on the floor of the hallway while she is half drunk and full of Tiernan’s cum. I want her to come to me first, with clear eyes and a clear head, knowing exactly what she’s asking for.
“Not tonight.” I walk down the hallway and crouch beside them. Elle’s face is flushed, her hair a mess, her chest rising and falling as she catches her breath. Tiernan is still buried inside her, looking smug as fuck.
“Get off her,” I say quietly.
Tiernan raises an eyebrow but doesn’t argue. He pulls out slowly, and Elle whimpers at the loss. He sits back and stashes his dick.
I look at Elle. Her blue eyes are glassy, unfocused. The wine and the orgasms have done their job, but she’s still here, still present enough to look at me with something that might be curiosity or might be challenge.
I reach down and scoop her into my arms. She weighs nothing, all soft curves and warm skin.
“Where are we going?” she murmurs against my chest.
“Shower. Then bed.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“I know. But you’re getting it anyway.”
I carry her into the bedroom and straight through to the bathroom. Her ruined leggings and knickers are left in the hallway. I’ll deal with them later. Right now, I care about her fingers curling into my shirt and the sudden quiet that has settled over her since Tiernan fucked her into the carpet.
I set her down on the vanity, keeping one hand at her waist until I know she’s steady.
She looks at me through damp lashes. “You’re being weird.”
“I’m being useful.” I turn the shower on and test the water with my hand. When it’s reached temperature, I turn back to her and pull her tee over her head, before reaching around to unclasp her bra. I don’t stare at her tits as they fall free.
She clasps my chin and stares into my eyes. “Look at me,” she murmurs.
“I’ve already seen you.”
“Look at me, Fin,” she says, her voice breathless, dropping her hand.
I let my eyes drop because she asked me to, not because I can’t help myself. Her skin is flushed from the shower steam and what Tiernan did to her. Her nipples tighten under my attention, and she draws in a shaky breath that has my hand flexing at her waist.
“This is what you wanted?” I ask.
“I wanted to know if you were avoiding it because you’re disgusted with me.”
My eyes snap back to hers. “Don’t say stupid shit.”
“It isn’t stupid to ask.”
I can appreciate that. We took her from everything she knew, put her in silk and diamonds, fed her, fucked her, scared her, told her pieces of her own life as if we had the right to open her history and point at the damage.
She doesn’t know where the lines are because we keep moving them.
“I’m not disgusted,” I say. “The fact that you think I am is insulting.”
“I seem to be insulting all of you tonight. I’m a cheap stripper who fingers herself for money. I’m disgusted at me. Why aren’t you?”
“That’s the wine talking.”
“In vino veritas,” she says solemnly.
I snort. “True, but cheap strippers who finger themselves for money aren’t supposed to speak Latin.”
She doesn’t answer, so I hold my hand out for her. “Shower.”
“Only if you join me.”
“Is that what you really want?”
“Yes.”
“Will you regret it tomorrow?”
“Depends on your performance.”
“You are a menace,” I say, but I remove my clothes slowly, giving her time to change her mind.
She doesn’t. She watches me strip with a focus that makes restraint harder than it should be.
I fold my shirt and set it on the counter because order keeps my hands busy.
She notices with a soft giggle. “You fold clothes before getting naked?”
“I’m not Tiernan.”
“Clearly.”
Her eyes drop over my chest, my stomach, the ink across my skin, the scars. She looks with no shame. Maybe Tiernan broke through whatever hesitation she had, or maybe she is tired of pretending her fear is the only thing in the room.
I step out of my pants and kick them aside less neatly than the shirt. That earns me a tiny smile.
“Scandalous,” she murmurs.
“Don’t get used to it.”
She slides off the vanity, and I help her into the shower. She sighs when the hot water beats down on her, and I pick up the soap and sponge. I run it over her back first, slow and practical, because if I start anywhere else, I’ll forget every noble thought I’ve had in the last five minutes.
Elle stands with her palms against the tile, her head bowed under the spray. Water runs through her blonde hair, turning it darker, sleeker, making her look even smaller than she is. Small enough that every protective instinct in me sharpens until it becomes dangerous.
“You’re very serious about this,” she murmurs, looking over her shoulder at me.
“I’m serious about most things.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It is.”
Her lips part on a small breath that might be amusement. It’s hard to tell with her. She has too many faces, and most of them are defensive. The one she has now is softer, looser around the edges.
I work the sponge across her back, keeping my touch firm and impersonal enough not to spook her, but not so distant she thinks I’m treating her like broken glass.
She turns suddenly so the sponge glides across her tits. “Touch me, Fintan.”
“Is that what you really want?”
“Why do you keep asking me that?”
“Because of the wine, because of everything.”
“You are scared of rejection,” she says, hitting the nail on the head. “I’m not going to reject you. I want you.”
She drops to her knees under the torrent and takes my cock in her hand. “Are you going to stop me?”
“No,” I rasp, and her mouth closes over the tip.
Somehow, she has turned the tables on me, and I don’t even know how that fucking happened. No one gets the jump on me, and yet this tiny blonde woman with a mouth that’s doing things to my soul that I’ve never felt before, has managed it in a few seconds.
I put my hand on the tiled wall above her head and close my eyes for one second.
That’s all I allow myself.
Then I look down at her because not looking feels worse. Elle is on her knees, water sliding over her face and hair, her blue eyes lifted to mine with a challenge in them that doesn’t belong to a victim. It belongs to a woman making a choice.
I want her. I’m ready to take every inch she is offering and call it fate. My other hand goes into her hair and tightens. She sucks me harder, and I watch her giving me a blow job in the shower when I’m supposed to be taking care of her after my brother ravaged her in the hallway.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” I murmur. “Keep going.”
She hollows her cheeks and deep throats me until tears spring into her eyes.
I groan, low and guttural, and the sound bounces off the tiles.
She pulls back just enough to drag her tongue along the underside of my shaft, and I have to brace my other hand against the wall because my legs nearly give out.
“Elle,” I pant.
She takes me deeper. My fingers tighten in her hair, not pulling, just holding on like she’s the only solid thing in the world.
The water streams over us both, hot enough to fog the glass. She’s determined, focused, like this is something she needs as much as I do. Maybe more.
I don’t want to come in her mouth. “I want you, Elle. I want to feel you around my cock.”
She pulls back instantly and rises as I help her up.
I grip her waist and lift her, slamming her against the tiles as my cock thrusts into her deep enough to make her scream my name.
I bury myself inside her, and the sensation is so intense I nearly lose control.
She’s tight, wet, still slick from Tiernan’s cum and her own arousal.
Her legs wrap around my waist, clinging to me.
“Fintan,” she gasps, her nails scraping down my back.
I withdraw and thrust again, harder this time, pinning her between my body and the tile. The angle is brutal, deep, and from the way her eyes roll back, it’s exactly what she needs.
I’ve wanted this since I first saw her. Since she looked at me with those frightened blue eyes and tried to pretend she wasn’t terrified.
“You’re going to make me come harder than I ever have,” I growl against her throat.
She turns her head, giving me access, and I drag my teeth across her pulse point, hard enough to mark.
The water beats down on us, making everything slippery and urgent.
I shift my grip, one hand under her arse, the other braced against the tiles above her head.
Each thrust drives deeper, and she meets me with equal desperation.
I’ve never felt anything like this. It’s the physical sensation, it’s the way she’s looking at me, like I’m the only thing keeping her tethered to this moment, to this world.
“Harder,” she begs.
I’m not strong enough to deny her anything right now. I adjust my grip and drive into her with enough force to make her cry out. Her eyes close and her head falls back against the tile as pleasure washes over her face. It’s raw, honest need.
My control slips. It’s fraying at the edges, about to snap completely. I’ve always prided myself on discipline, on maintaining that careful distance between what I want and what I allow myself to have, but Elle is destroying all of that with every gasp, every clench of her cunt around my cock.
“Look at me,” I whisper.
Her eyes flutter open, glassy and unfocused. When they lock on mine, something shifts between us. It has nothing to do with the physical and everything to do with the truth neither of us wants to acknowledge.
“Fintan,” she gasps, her nails digging into my back hard enough to draw blood.
I thrust harder, trying to fuck the feeling away, trying to reduce this to something simple and physical. It doesn’t work. Every clench of her pussy around my cock pulls me deeper into an emotion I didn’t know I was capable of until this moment.
Her orgasm hits suddenly. Her body goes rigid, and a sharp cry tears from her throat. She pulses around me, and the sensation drags me over the edge with her. I bury myself as deep as I can go and empty myself inside her with a groan that sounds too much like surrender.
For several seconds, neither of us moves. The water continues its relentless stream, and I’m still buried inside her, my forehead pressed against the tile beside her head.
“I fucking love you,” I croak, knowing I can’t not say it.
She freezes. I don’t turn my head to look at her. I can’t.
“What?” she whispers.
“I fucking love you. You can hate me for saying it. You can think I’m fucked in the head, and maybe I am.” I lift my head and look her in the eyes. “But I love you, Eleanor.”
“Wow, one fuck and you’re giving her your entire soul,” Tiernan states from over by the sink. His words are light. His expression is not.
I don’t know how long he’s been standing there. I don’t care.
I ignore him.
Elle does too.
“I don’t know what to do with that,” she says.
“You wanted someone to love you. I do. That’s all you need to know, and you don’t have to do anything for it.”
Elle’s hand touches my jaw. Her eyes are clear, focused and searching. “You mean it.”
“Every word. I can’t explain it, so don’t ask me to. I’ve never loved anyone. But I know that’s what this is.”
“That’s insane,” she says, but she is smiling. “You are all fucking insane.”
I finally pull out of her and lower her feet to the shower floor, keeping one hand at her waist because her legs are shaking. She leans into me, and I wrap my arm around her, holding her against my chest while the water continues to beat down on us.
“You’re serious,” she says softly.
“I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
Her fingers trace one of the scars on my ribs, following the raised line with gentle curiosity. “I don’t know what to do with it, not yet. But I will cherish it until I do. Is that enough for you?”
Tiernan is enough of a man to step out of the bathroom to give us this moment. I respect the hell out of it.
“Yes. You are enough just as you are. Even if you never say it back, know that you are enough, Elle.”
She sniffs, and a tear falls from her eye. “You have no idea how much I needed to hear that.”
“Wrong. I do know, Elle,” I say, cupping her face. I press my lips to hers. I pour everything I can’t say into the kiss, every promise I will keep, every protective instinct that’s been building since the moment I saw her.
She kisses me back with a tenderness that breaks something inside me. Her hands slide up to cup my face, and she finally pulls back.
“I believe you,” she whispers.
I nod once and reach for the sponge, this time not hesitating to clean her thoroughly before I turn off the water and reach for a towel, wrapping it around her before grabbing one for myself.
“Come on,” I say, taking her hand. “Bed.”
She follows with a look of awe on her face.
It nearly crushes me that she finds it such an event that someone could love her.
I lead her back into the bedroom, my hand still wrapped around hers.
Tiernan is sprawled on the bed, naked, his arms behind his head, looking entirely too comfortable on her bed.
“Make yourself at home,” I mutter.
“Already have.” He doesn’t move.
Elle stops beside the bed, clutching the towel to her chest. The vulnerability on her face makes me fall even harder for her. I want to tell Tiernan to fuck off, to give us the privacy she deserves, but I know my brother well enough to recognise when he’s planted himself somewhere deliberately.
“I’m not leaving,” Tiernan says, reading my mind.
Elle looks between us, her grip tightening on the towel. “Don’t,” she says.
Tiernan’s eyes track over her with possessive heat. “Get in bed, Elle.”
I squeeze her hand gently. “You need sleep. Real sleep.”
She looks up at me, and something shifts in her expression. The walls she keeps rebuilding are cracking wider. “Will you stay as well?”
“Yes.”
She nods, and Tiernan scoots over to the far side. Elle climbs in the middle, and I get in on her other side. “Sleep, Elle. We’ve got you,” I say quietly.