49. Saoirse
Saoirse
All About Control
Imade so many promises to myself that I would stay strong and stand proud.
But it doesn’t mean a hill of beans when he comes in with that look on his face.
The look that isn’t an expression, but a declaration.
The one that says I’m his woman and he’s my man, and there’s nothing we can do about it.
Sure, I’m in awe of how he handled the situation at Woodside. The guards in the drive parted like the Red Sea when he walked by.
I was in too much pain to follow the narrative. I asked him to come here now, so we can straighten out our stories together.
But all that flies out the window when he wraps his arms around me tightly. Feels like home.
What I feel toward Finn is uncomfortable. I hate the diamond hard part of him that insulates his heart. But I love the sheer unadulterated hero that he is inside.
The man who stands firm and doesn’t fall. The man who stares death in the face and reckons it’s okay if it’s on behalf of his lover.
He’s bossy and stern and almost certainly a psychopath. But he’s built like an Adonis and he’s got God-given great looks despite the scars, fractures, and ink.
Finn O’Shea is my recipe for disaster. He’s turned the heat up so high I know I could get burned. But God help me, he’s so delicious.
My mind says “Fuck, no!”
But my body overrules it. “Fuck me, fuck me until I’m breathless. Fuck me hard.” Did I say that out loud? I don’t care.
He strips down, never taking his eyes off me lying on the bed. We press our bodies together, intertwined and naked, breathless for more.
The kiss is long and lovely. Lips, tongues, and teeth doing a good job of expressing how deeply we missed each other, how perfect it is to regroup and join together once more.
Finn lets me set the pace, but I can’t wait.
His fist tightens around my wrist when I reach for his cock. I don’t want to stroke it, but to guide it inside me.
“In such a rush, mo chroí?” His voice is harsh with longing and lust.
“I want to feel you inside me. Please.”
I spread my legs and he lies between my thighs. I push the head of his cock an inch or two inside me. I was already wet hearing him outside my door.
Now, I’m sopping.
I wait for him to impale me with the object of my desire. He doesn’t do it fast, but slow…ly.
Inch by inch. So many inches. It’s the best feeling in the world, to be taken to the limit of pain and pleasure like that.
We rock and grind, kiss and sigh.
No matter how many times we’ve done this before, it always feels unique and wondrous.
A warm glow so close to love rises with my climax. He’s the best.
Oh, God, how does he make me feel so good like this?
Running my nails down his back, I dig them into his skin and moan as my climax peaks and fades.
We fall asleep like that, utterly complete and happy.
This can be the first page in our blank book together.
***
I wake in the morning when the room service delivers the breakfast I ordered at check in.
Finn grabs a towel from the bathroom and goes to open the door while I hide under the sheets.
I hear him dismiss the server with a tip.
Finn heads for the bathroom and hits the shower.
It’s like my convent escape never happened, like we really turned a new page.
But he didn’t say good morning.
And there were no hugs or kisses or even a slow, sleepy smile. I hate the way he disconnects so quickly. It’s like he goes back to factory settings the moment he believes I’m back under his control.
I tap on the bathroom door and enter. He’s in the shower, built for an angel and scarred like a demon.
Quietly, I use the toilet behind the alcove. I can’t brush my teeth, because Finn has taken my brush into the shower with him.
The room is full of steam. The water from the showerhead pounds down on the dark hair plastered over his eyes. Like the rest of him, even Finn’s hair is thick and perfect.
Ping.
He must have texted someone before ducking into the shower.
The phone is unlocked by the sink, right where I’m washing my hands and splashing water on my face.
The outline of his figure is obscured by steam… I take the phone and close the door quietly behind me.
Because one message from an anonymous sender caught my eye. All the messages on his burner are from anonymous senders. I know this from when I lived under the warehouse with him.
Everything buttoned down on your side?
Finn has texted back. She’ll do whatever I want.
The person wants to know. How can you be sure?
Because I kept the evidence. Saoirse shot Patrick in cold blood.
Hang onto it. You never know. You might just need to hold it over her head. It’s all about control.
;)
The last message makes my blood run cold.
I put his phone down on the pillow where he can see it. I don’t want him coming after me thinking I have taken his phone.
Quickly packing my bag, I leave my toothbrush and cosmetics in the bathroom.
My belly flips when the water in the shower goes off.
Still tucking my blouse into my pants, I quietly turn the handle of the door and step out into the hotel corridor.
I start running.