Chapter 6
Chapter Six
“You are one of the two surviving mirror children,” Veyra says softly.
My brain hurts. My heart hurts. My thighs hurt, too, but that’s a minor issue in comparison. “And the other?”
Finnick clears his throat and gives me an awkward little wave. “That would be me,” he admits.
I sit completely still for a bit so I can process everything going on. I’ve determined that I am absolutely not dreaming. This is real. There’s no way my subconscious could concoct all of this very specific bullshit. Trust me, I’ve tried writing before, and I couldn’t do it.
“I think I would like to lie down now,” I say, swallowing down the giant lump in my throat.
Veyra smiles at me with understanding, and Finnick stands up quickly, rushing over to help me up.
He goes to leave the blanket on the chair, but I protest weakly.
He understands and immediately wraps it around my shoulders again.
“If you’re up for it, I will explain more tomorrow,” Veyra offers. I nod and let Finnick lead me out of the room.
We are completely silent through the halls. I have no idea where I am at this point, and would have no idea which way to go to get back to the room we were just in. Again, zero lessons learned from any of my podcast episodes.
I’m still in a daze when Finnick steps in front of me and pushes open a large, heavy wooden door. The room opens before me, and even though I know I’m absolutely in awe of it, I can’t bring myself to show it.
I see a set of large glass doors in front of me, leading to a balcony.
I need fresh air. Finnick has disappeared, so I see myself out.
I’m much higher up than I anticipated, but the view is absolutely gorgeous.
The sky has lightened the slightest bit with morning creeping in.
This room oversees the village below, I realize.
I watch as soft, warm glows begin to light up windows in the homes.
“The farmers and shopkeepers are starting to rise,” a warm voice says behind me. I hum in acknowledgment. Finnick stands beside me, holding out a mug. “I made you another tea since yours met an unfortunate demise.”
I laugh ruefully. “It’s been quite a day,” I admit.
“I found out my loser boyfriend was cheating on me, I bought a weird magic mirror which broke and transported me to another realm, and now I find out I’m part goblin and that my birth family is dead.
Quite an interesting Tuesday.” I don’t miss Finnick’s flinch when I mention Luca slash Leopold, but he recovers quickly and whistles.
“Sounds like a terrible fairytale,” he half-laughs, repeating my words from earlier.
“Finn,” I groan.
His smile breaks something in me. I don’t understand how he’s real. “I like it when you call me Finn,” he tells me. “Anyway, your boyfriend sounds like an idiot.”
“He’s my ex, now. I’ve been drawing and painting you for months,” I blurt out. Way to be smooth, Claudia. Real clean transition. His perfect auburn brow arches and a tinge of red crosses his sage green cheeks.
“How?”
I shrug. “Honestly, I have no idea. I was staring out of my window one day, and I started daydreaming. I saw you. You were laughing, a real, genuine laugh, and I was mesmerized by you. I don’t know how long I stayed still, not wanting whatever was happening to end.
When I finally snapped out of it, I needed to paint you.
I wanted to see you again. Sometimes I would, in my dreams, or in reflections when I zoned out.
I would paint you as soon as I came back. ”
Finn has the sweetest smile I’ve ever seen on his face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, well. I never painted you green, though. That was a surprise.” I realize quickly that it could sound like I think it’s a bad thing. “A good surprise,” I follow up.
He clears his throat and takes a long sip of his tea. “I dreamt of you, too,” he admits after a minute. Now it’s my turn to raise a brow. “Did you?”
He nods. “Sort of the same way. I’m no painter, however, so I couldn’t keep you the way you kept me.”
I don’t know if my heart is going to burst before or after my panties melt, but I am absolutely sure both are going to happen.
He scratches at his trimmed beard bashfully. “There were times that I missed you, a lot of them. Which seemed silly at the time, you were just some girl in my mind.” We both laugh at this because now we’ve both experienced it.
“I’d miss you terribly, though. I’d want to talk to you or run my fingers through your hair. There were times I would see you crying quietly, and all I wanted to do was rip through my dream and hold you.”
He moves closer to me, and if breathing wasn’t automatic, I swear I’d forget how.
He cups the side of my neck with his large, warm palm, pulling me closer. I have to lift my chin to keep looking at him.
“I wanted to tell you that things would work out. I wanted to protect you. I wanted to laugh with you. There were times I would make myself go to sleep just to see you.”
He places his other hand on my cheek, and his expression is so many things at once. Reverent. Desperate. Honest. Raw.
“Most of all, I wanted to do this.”
I don’t hesitate. One of my fists clutches his shirt like it’s the only thing that’ll keep me above the imaginary water I’m in, and the other wraps around the back of his neck.
His lips meet mine, and it’s not gentle.
We kiss like it’s the first and only time we will get the chance to do this.
It’s hungry and desperate, and I am now questioning how I ever thought anything other than this was a good kiss.
I press into him and slide my fingers up to his messy auburn bun, and grip the hair at the nape of his neck. I pull him closer, needing him to be closer, closer, closer.
He lifts me, his hands sliding under my ass to hold me up, and I wrap my legs around his waist. I move my hips against him, and I swear I could come from this alone. He groans lowly. “Tell me what you need, Echo,” he rasps into my ear, causing my back to arch into him.
“You,” I breathe.
He pulls his head back to look at me, and I pout. I actually fucking pout. His tone gets serious. “Are you sure, Claudia? You’ve dealt with a lot today.”
“Finnick, I want you.”
He kisses down the side of my throat and walks us to the bed inside. He doesn’t bother to close the glass doors behind us to give us privacy, and right now, I don’t care.
He gently lays me down on the bed, my head hitting the soft pillows. We stare at each other while he carefully slides my boots and socks off, leaving me in just the flimsy cotton dress and panties.
I try to sit up, to reach for him, but he pushes me back down carefully, making a quiet tsk sound at me.
“Be patient, Echo,” he whispers. He grabs me behind my knees and pulls me until my ass is at the edge of the mattress, my dress riding up in the process, yet again showing my panties.
He glares down at them, and I swear to God, he licks his lips.
He nudges my legs apart and lowers onto his knees, eyes level with my pussy.
I can feel his breath against the fabric covering me.
His gaze sears into my eyes, and he runs a long, slender pointer finger along my panties, right over my slit.
My face heats when he realizes there’s a wet spot on the fabric and makes the most guttural sound I’ve heard, like he wants to eat me.
And I hope he does.
He continues to move his finger up and down that same path softly, teasingly, and if he doesn’t do something to me soon, I am going to scream. The motherfucker knows it, too. His smug face says it all.
“Please,” I whisper.
He pauses his movement, and the smile disappears from his face. “Tell me to stop, Claudia.”
I shake my head. “Do not stop, Finn.”
I see the restraint in him snap. In a swift motion, he hooks his finger into my panties and moves them aside, baring my pussy to him. He stares at it, and for the smallest microsecond, I’m embarrassed, but he shuts that down immediately.
“What a beautiful little pussy you have, sweet Echo,” is all I hear before he slides his tongue along the entire length of my slit.
“Oh, fuck,” I moan lowly, already overstimulated and ready to come. I didn’t expect that mouth on him.
He pulls back and smiles at me. “No fucking yet, sweet girl. First, I need to taste you.”
His thumbs part my lips, and his tongue drags across my entrance, across my clit, and starts all over again. It’s slow and torturous, but it feels so. Fucking. Good.
He continues this until I’m about to come. When he stops, I’m ready to throw a tantrum. “Shh, you’ll get there,” he soothes, speaking against my now pulsing clit. I’m about to break.
I get the chance when he suddenly sucks my clit and slides two fingers into me.
He curves his fingers inside of me, hitting a spot that makes me see stars.
Literal flashes of light dance across my vision, and I come undone.
I can hear how wet I am, and the sound makes it even more lewd.
His mouth pops off my clit, and he watches his fingers pound into me with wonder.
His eyes close, I hear him moan, and his tongue is back on me.
His moan causes another orgasm to crash into me, and I hear him encouraging me.
“That’s it, Claudia. Good girl. Good. Fucking. Girl.”
Another deep moan comes from him, and it causes me to whimper.
I have no idea what I’m doing that’s so good, but I swear I’ll do it the rest of my life as long as he’s the one praising me.
He slows down his movements until I come down, thighs trembling. I open my eyes and look down at him.
“What?” I ask. He has the goofiest grin on his face.
And then I notice his beard and shirt are soaked. Oh my god. The sheets.
“Did I…” I trail off, both incredulous and embarrassed.
“Yes. And I want you to do it again.”
He stands, holds my feet up with one hand, and slaps my pussy with the other.
I gasp at the pain, but the gasp turns into a moan when he runs his thumb over my clit.
“Do it again, Claudia.”
Slap.
“I want to see you do that again.”
Slap.
I notice the dark spot on his pants. He came in his pants from eating me out.
His fingers slam into me again.
“Show me how a good girl listens.”
That’s all I need to come again, and my body does exactly what he asks of it.
He changes the sheets after I can’t take any more. I feel like a cooked noodle. Limp. No thoughts. He softly brushes his fingers through my hair.
I sleep better than I ever have in my entire life.