CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN – HATTIE #2
“Don’t. Forget.” He bites my lower lip before quickly releasing it and bringing his mouth back to my ear, applying the tiniest smidge more pressure to my neck, his hand now properly wrapped around my throat.
“Next time you want to brag to your sister about the fact I fuck you, tell her properly, baby. Tell her how I fuck you so hard you scream. Tell her how you ride my face until you want to pass out. Tell her how you choke on my cock until you can barely breathe. Tell her exactly how well you take my cock. Tell her how I fuck you this hard, yet you still beg for more. Tell her how my cock”—thrust—“fills”—thrust—“you”—thrust—“up.”
His words do it. I’m hovering on the edge—heat is prickling goosebumps across my skin, my heart is thundering against my ribs, and my muscles are twitching with the inevitability of my release.
“Tell her,” he grinds out. “Tell her how hard you come all over the cock that was made for you. Now, do it. Come on me.”
My pussy tightens, clamping down on his cock, and the wave that’s been threatening to consume me floods through my veins. Every inch of my body goes tight, and I’m barely aware of Finn’s low growls of, “Fuck, Hattie, fuck,” as I hover somewhere between what must be reality and a dream.
Heat floods my body, and Finn rocks our hips together as his cum fills me. The edges of my vision are blurry, but I don’t know if that’s from the intensity of the pleasure rolling through me or the tears that are stinging at my eyes.
I just know that, for the first time in my life, I feel whole.
Like I’ve found somewhere I truly belong.
I’ve found… someone… who makes me want to belong.
“Shit.” Finn’s breathy exhale dances across my neck as he releases my throat to tenderly cup my cheek. “Are you okay? I didn’t—fuck, you’re crying. Did I hurt you?” He turns my face towards his, still buried inside me.
I shake my head. I can’t speak, but he didn’t. Not at all. I wish I could tell him that, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t get my mouth to form the word ‘no.’
Instead, I kiss him. He’s close enough that I can reach without straining or contorting my body uncomfortably, so that’s all I do. Just kiss him. Just press my lips against his. Just tell him the only way I can.
“Shit,” he murmurs again. He presses back and pulls out of me. A chill cascades over my body, but there’s barely time for it to take hold before he sits down and pulls me over onto his lap.
He wraps his arms around me, cradling my head.
I curl my face into his neck and take a deep breath, breathing in the cedarwood scent I’ve come to associate with his shampoo over the past couple of weeks.
It’s mixed with our sweat and the thick scent of sex that permeates the air, but in a weird way, I like it.
It’s like our own bubble.
One nobody else can penetrate.
A place that’s just ours.
A place that’s… safe.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” He nuzzles the top of my head, holding me a little tighter. “Wait—it’s okay. You need a minute. Don’t speak. As long as I didn’t hurt you.”
I shake my head, and he relaxes a little beneath me. His chest rises and falls as he sighs, pressing a kiss into my hair.
For a moment, we stay like this. The only parts of us moving are the rise and fall of each of our chests as our breathing regulates.
A shiver dances across my skin, and he reaches to the side, pulling the blanket that hangs off the arm of the sofa towards us.
He wraps it around us, making sure every inch of me is covered, before cuddling me close again.
“You know,” I finally manage to mutter. “That wasn’t much of a punishment.”
He freezes.
Then—laughter.
That rich, deep sound that makes my stomach flip and my heart sing in a way I don’t understand.
Didn’t, rather.
I get it now.
I have feelings for Finn.
Real, tangible, touchable feelings that, for the first time, are strong enough for me to recognise. Strong enough for me to grasp onto, to breathe life into.
And I… am scared.
I’ve never felt this before. I’ve never felt anything even remotely close to these ticklish, fluttery little sensations that are breathing life into my tired body.
Never felt anything like this intense thumping of my heart that only seems to make my pulse thunder as the realisation of my emotions hit home.
Is this what falling in love feels like?
I don’t know. I’ve never known. I don’t know how to find out.
Before this, I can’t remember the last time I felt safe or cared for or wanted. I spent eleven years just trying to survive, then six or seven more trying to make something of my life. A further two here, fighting for recognition, desperate for something other than the bitter taste of abandonment.
And it never came.
Until him.
Until he humoured me.
Until he offered me a way out.
Until he listened to my off-the-cuff proposal.
Until he accepted that same stupid proposal and promised me the world.
I’ve never believed it. Never thought he’d actually give me anything other than the bare minimum. I never thought he’d care, never thought he’d do much beyond what he absolutely had to.
Yet he’s given me so much more.
He keeps giving me so much more.
“Finn?” His name leaves my lips in little more than a whisper.
“Mm? Yeah, baby?”
I swallow. “What’s your favourite colour?”