by Lyra Parish
If I admitted loving, my life would become a jumbled mess, a jigsaw puzzle where the pieces were never meant to fit together. Cinderella couldn't be a princess if the shoe didn't fit.
Finn and I were different, but the same.
Could I really become a part of his world?
His life?
Was it even an option? Or, rather, another stupid fairy tale that love created to confuse me.
Everything would change.
I couldn't handle more change.
But as I looked into his eyes, my breath and words didn't seem to come, and I knew that everything he spoke of, I felt. Love could be cruel, and toxic, and overpowering. Love could jab you in the heart and leave you dry, but love could also make the birds sing louder, make the music sound lovelier, and make the wind blow sweeter.
"I know what you're thinking. Your face gave it away."
He whispered into my ear, and I closed my eyes.
His breath lingered on my neck while his hands lightly grazed my arms, pulling me closer to him. He did know what I was thinking, and every fiber of my being instantly responded, even when I told it not to, even when I tried to hold it back. Somehow, my heart knew, but my mind continued to fight against it. Because I couldn't give in. It wasn't an option.
Finn placed his forehead against mine and stared into my eyes, and for a moment, I thought I could see his soul. My arms found their way around his neck and his twined around my waist. Then he was lifting me into the air and my legs naturally wrapped around his waist. His hands were on my ass, and I looked down into his eyes—his beautiful jade green eyes that seemed to know me when I didn't know myself. That seemed to call me from across any room, and speak words that were never said.
My lips magnetized toward his and we kissed. Not rushing one another, but fully taking in the perplexity of the situation at hand.
Gravity had vanished, and I was floating, completely weightless in Finn's arms. He used his teeth and nibbled my bottom lip, and then his tongue found mine and saliva mingled, creating a mixture of Jennifer and Finnley, a love potion so strong that Cupid himself couldn't claim it.
He broke away and placed me on my feet, but I thought I might not be able to stand. I nervously giggled, and his hand found my face and trailed down the back of my neck. He was pushing my lips to his again for seconds—and thirds—being so greedy, trying to take as much of me that he could. Our top and bottom lips alternated; I wanted to taste his full bottom lips while he wanted my top, and we switched, fully taking in the kiss, sucking and biting one another playfully.
What started soft became hard and we fought, trying to keep our hands from forbidden places. But his hands wandered across each part of my body, memorizing every curve, every muscle and dip, and he moaned with satisfaction as he trailed up my shirt.
Love and lust flowed through my veins, and I felt completely powerless as he touched me. We lost ourselves in the moment, in the nibbles and kisses, in the powerful exchange of pent-up emotions.
"What are you doing to me?" he whispered. And I didn't know.
"I don't think I can stop. My intentions were never to hurt you, or make you fall in love. All I ever wanted to do was break you down and build you back the way I wanted. And it worked, didn't it?"
Dizziness overcame me, and I felt like I couldn't have enough of him, but I had too much at the same time. And then his lips were on my collarbone, trailing across my face, and tugging on my earlobe, making me sigh with satisfaction. We took a break, only to catch our breaths, and to make sure we weren't dreaming. A smile, a kiss, fingers running through my wet hair, and then he led me to his bedroom.
I followed.
I couldn't resist.
I'd been drugged by his taste, by his scent, by him, and if it was wrong, then so be it because at that moment, my heart told me it was right.
Twenty-six
He pulled me by two fingers, led me down the hall, and opened the door. I had never been inside his room before. Abstract paintings on the walls, skylights in the ceiling, and a large bed below. It was everything I imagined it'd be, forbidden and off-limits, but simple in its own way.
More kissing, more lip sucking, more touching, and then I was being pushed against the wall with my arms restricted above my head. I broke free and ran my fingers through his shaggy, soft hair, then I was taking off Finnley's pants, and he was removing my shirt and pajama bottoms until we stood naked in front of one another for the first time.
I took him in, all of him, every single muscle until my eyes landed on his manhood. My heart galloped fast, and a bolt of adrenaline shot through my body as I looked with curiosity and uncertainty. Then our lips were dancing, mingling, and I memorized his mouth while he moved me backward to the bed.
We lay next to one another; his hands found my sex and mine his. He touched me, and I stroked him. I sat up in bed on all fours, and placed my mouth around his hardness. I had never given head before, but I had been told how. I would have to remember to thank Lori for the graphic banana show later.
I started licking the outside, and then placed the tip of him between my lips. He moaned with satisfaction as I placed most of him in my mouth. His hands rubbed and spanked my ass, and the thought of him, inside me, made me want him even more. I kissed up his stomach and watched his chest rise and fall with each ragged breath. His hands found their way into my hair, and he pulled my face closer to his.
He positioned me on all fours and slipped his head between my legs, licking my wetness, and then I had him in my mouth, teasing and pleasing him in the same way that he did me. He spread my lips apart and as his tongue found my clit, I saw stars. Actual stars, I thought, when he licked me, slow and gentle. My hips began to move, and I pushed my sex harder into his face, letting him fully taste all of me. I stroked and licked every bit of him, the tip down the shaft, and he wrapped his arms around my waist in pleasure as I sucked and nibbled, and lightly grazed my fingers across his legs, and up his hardness.
Figure eights and circles from his tongue urged me to push harder onto him, wanting him to make me come as the build-up happened below. And then his finger was inside of me, and I couldn't control myself.
"I can taste you," he said. And with those words, the orgasm built and then released. I moaned his name as I convulsed and throbbed. An orgasm so powerful, and clenching, that it seemed to take over my entire body. The intensity from Finnley's tongue took me away to another place. Heaven, I thought.
Every internal part of me sprung to life as he dipped his tongue in and out, tasting my sweet honey, and I moaned his name and pushed him further down my throat. He groaned in satisfaction as he rolled me on my back and trailed his fingers up my body. Then Finn's sexy face was floating above mine, asking me with his eyes if it was okay.
We were breathing together as if we couldn't catch our breaths.
His eyes deepened, and so did his kisses.
His hand touched my body. And every place was paired with intoxicating bites that made my head swim.
"I'll go slow," he whispered in that British accent that was so fucking hot. I smiled. He exhaled slowly and his breath tingled on my skin. I was so wet, so ready for him, so turned on, and I wanted to give myself to him in every sense. I opened my legs and he hovered on top of me, still trying to make our inseparable lips melt into one. And then, he was barely inside of me, pushing his hardness into me slowly and gently until all of him crowded inside me.
I froze as I felt the pressure, the foreignness of him in me and I closed my eyes, taking in what we had done, reveling in every sensation. He didn't move. We stayed there as close as we possibly could be, completely inside of one another with our pieces fitting together perfectly. He smiled.
"You feel so fucking good around me," he said. His lips brushed across my cheek and he slowly moved in and out, making sure I was okay. His thrusts slightly picked up in speed. His low moans accompanied mine. When he came, Finn pressed his lips onto mine, and I dug my fingernails into his back and
pulled him closer to me. Sweet satisfaction crossed his face, and then I felt him pulse inside of me as he filled me with himself. The love, the adoration, the way Finn was careful with me, made me feel no regret. I wanted to close my eyes and replay this moment a million times.
Pure contentment covered my face and body as he nuzzled his nose with mine, kissed me until my lips felt sore, and lay on top of me stroking his fingers through my hair, telling me how beautiful I was until our bodies became sticky with sweat. There was no roughness, although my hips, legs, and insides were sore from stretching and moving in ways they hadn't managed before. I didn't instantly come when he was inside of me like in the movies. There was no bleeding, and I felt no different than I had before sex. Well other than the growing admiration and feelings I had for the beautiful man that lay beside me. Honestly, I halfway expected a fairy sex mother to pop up and give me a no-longer-a-virgin badge.
Then my mind went to Luke and guilt blanketed me. Guilt for being such a bitch and for giving something away that he thought belonged to him. I couldn't think about it. I wouldn't even know how to begin to tell him. I would be the reason he was hurt. Fuck. I pushed it out of my thoughts. Being with Finn like this coaxed me to forget it all: Luke, my parents, and Abbie.
I squeezed my legs together feeling the soreness and rolled over as he held me in his arms, ran his fingers through my hair, and kissed my forehead with his pouty lips.
Finn and I stared at one another with stupid grins on our faces in pure bliss of being with one another in the most powerful, emotionally, physical way possible.
We were there, together, and he had taken what I always knew belonged to him: my virginity.
"I think I may be in love," I said as I trailed my fingers across his stomach muscles and tucked my head into his arms.
"I know…"
He kissed my eyelids and cheeks, and finished with my mouth and a smile.
"And you're fired."
Finnley
Epilogue
Honey-brown eyes looked up at me like I had rescued them from evil. Urging, begging me to give all of me to her: heart, body, and soul.
Every inch of her body latched to mine, unwavering, refusing to let go, trying to swallow me whole. She panted and moaned, and her body begged while her fingers scratched down my back, leaving stinging pleasurable scrapes. With her tongue in my mouth, she opened her legs wide, stretching herself, trying to swallow every inch of me. Then I stared into her eyes until she contained all of my length and girth. She sighed and smiled with pleasure, and the sound of my name releasing from her lips combined with the nibbling on my ear pulled me closer to her soul. She ended where I began. I was fucking weak for her touch and couldn't take it anymore.
We continued to mend our bodies together, moving slowly with the rhythms of one another until I filled her with every bit of me, thrusting the powerful orgasm deep inside of her. She smiled with pure ecstasy as she ran her fingers through my hair and pulled me closer to her mouth, desperate to kiss me soft and sweet. I nuzzled her neck, kissed her cheeks, her hair, every part of her that I could.
The most beautiful woman in the world gave me her virginity, which was so sacred, so pure that every emotion inside of me sprung to life. I would treasure that moment until the day I died. And although I was there with her, completely locked together, I wanted more of her, every inch of her skin, and mouth, and cheeks. I needed her like air. I was afraid it would come to that.
My dick wanted her every time she was around. The smell of her body, sweet and clean like mountain flowers, mixed with her signature I-want-to-fuck-you look, drove me insane. Blue balls had been my middle name since I met her, and finally, finally, we were together, making love in my bed. Both wishing it would never end, whispering sweet nothings to one another, speaking words that didn't need to be spoken. I expected to wake up with a wad in my underwear, but this was no dream. The pain of her bites and nails would linger tomorrow, and I was happy for it.
Don't judge me.
I tried to get over her. I tried to fuck and play with other women. I even forced myself away from her for weeks, but it never worked. Faking every fuck I had left me feeling ashamed and angry with myself. After sex, I felt like a giant pussy. I knew it boiled down to Jennifer. I was weak for her, and until I had her, nothing would quench my thirst. Her virginity was mine for the taking.
Fuck my little brother, Luke. He was in over his head when he went for Jennifer, and I wouldn't have it. She was an Elite. Love was prohibited, but when I saw the way she looked at him like she had once looked at me, I couldn't handle it. I had to know it wasn't real and that Luke was just an assignment. I couldn't stand the thought of him fucking her senseless and wearing her on his arm like a trophy, one that he paid for. I may be a bastard, but I don't like having my nose rubbed in my own shit.
Chemistry between two people cannot be created. I experienced fatal attraction the first time I laid eyes on her in the lobby of the Bellagio while I was out recruiting for the Elite. I felt like a predator, like an asshole, for barging in on her bathing. But the manager wanted to fuck me, so she willingly gave me anything I wanted, even the key to Jennifer's room. I didn't know what I would do when I entered, but I had to find out. Sometimes Lady Luck got drunk with lust and became a crazy bitch.
Body propped back, perfect perky tits, and an amazing body waited for me in the bathtub, and if I wouldn't have been so shocked by her nakedness, I may have asked her on a date. But her aim with that damn shampoo bottle was impeccable. I didn't expect a firecracker behind that womanly figure. Texans. Afterwards, I contemplated knocking on her door and fessing up. I imagined telling her how I was immediately attracted to her, but I what kind of creepy fuck would I have looked like? Instead, I paid for her room and wine, played it off as a mistake, wrote her an apology letter before the guilt consumed me, and then got the hell out of there.
A little piece of me died inside when she signed the official contract. Jesse would always find a way to be a cock-block, and to make sure everything was legal. But Jennifer was different. Not some whore that I would fuck and leave. The intentions were never to sell her, or give her away, but to learn more about her wants, sexual desires, and to see if there were sparks.
She needed a job. She was a risk taker.
The Elite was the bait, and when she hooked on, I reeled her in.
I tried to push her away by being an asshole.
But it was never enough.
I found myself running back to her.
Dreaming of her. Wanting every bit of her.
She made me fucking crazy.
The look on her face when I gave her the pleasure of her first orgasm made me want to scoop her in my arms and kiss her, and tell her how fucking beautiful she was. She wanted to be fucked... several times, mind you, and I wanted to fuck her, but no matter how much of a dick I was in the past, I couldn't be the present day man who stole something so precious. I wanted her to make the choice to give herself to me and be sure it was the right one. I didn't want to be a random fuck in the heat of the moment. Funny isn't?
Truth be known, I was fucking scared. Scared to be with her because it became too personal, and I was afraid to lose myself.
I knew in the basement—when she said she wanted me to feel the way she did—that I would have to void the contract, and tell her it was a mistake. But it became too serious. It all happened too fast, and I was in too deep. I couldn't stop with the fucking mind games that continued to spin out of control. It became a way for me to be around her, to demand her to do what I said, and for me to know that she wanted me even though I had to push her away each time. Just like the asshole she thought I was, I needed my ego stroked as much as my cock. The last few months, I discovered how far she would go, how many games she would play to get with me and then over me. The games, the endless cycle of fucking games. Somehow I got lost in them with her. We were tangled in the same web, neither one able to break free or even wanting to.
She bec
ame my drug, and I constantly needed my fix. So many times I wanted to lay her down and fuck her the way she wanted, and then whisper dirty things in her ear as I made her come, and then fuck her again. But each time, I pulled away. But still I needed to know I was the man she dreamed about at night. I needed to know that when she pleasured herself, my face was the one she saw. Tonight, I knew.
Jennifer Downs, the virgin that stayed, was the only woman that could bring me to my knees with a single look. She was a strong lioness that constantly attacked me with her beauty and smarts, and bitchy attitude. The only woman that made me feel since the loss of my wife. The only person who validated that love still existed in my world.
Lying there with her, pleasuring her, becoming one with her completed me, and I knew that I couldn't live without her. At that moment, denying I had fallen in love with her wasn't an option. Not once she poured herself into me, gave me every piece of her body and soul, and mixed with mine.
Although love is precious and love is kind, it is still forbidden if you are an Elite.
Firing Jennifer Downs was my only option.
Options: we had those now.
More by Lyra
Weakness Series
Weak for Him
Weak Without Him
(coming soon)
No Longer Weak
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Dirty Little Secrets Series
Hiding Dirty Little Secrets
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