“What are you watching?” He shifts around on the couch, getting comfortable.
I bite down on my lower lip, glancing up at the black screen. Maybe a distraction from all of this heavy shit will be good for me. “I was just watching musicals.”
He grins at me, the first real grin I think I’ve seen on him since I returned back to The Cove. “You always did have a weak spot for them. Come on, get comfy with me and we’ll put another one on.”
I eye him skeptically as he pats the couch beside him.
“Come on, I don’t bite. Not unless you ask nicely.” He says it with such a serious look that I can’t help but laugh a little, relaxing almost instantly.
I roll my eyes and untangle myself from my hoodie, scooting over beside him. I flick through the other musicals available and flick on Wicked. He doesn’t say a word, just settles in and watches the screen with me.
You’d think, after everything, I’d be tense. On edge. Yet something inside of me never wanted to believe they hated me. That little girl who loved these boys more than almost anything is dancing a little bop inside of me as I start to relax.
I lose myself to the joy of love and friendship, of power and betrayal, and how much a person can sacrifice for their dreams before they’re not themselves anymore. Not trying too hard to hide that I’m basically singing along, and trying not to smirk when I hear him humming beside me. I might have watched this more than a few times with him when we were younger. By the time we’re halfway through the movie I start to relax a little more, leaning into his warmth. It’s insane that I feel safer with him here, especially considering how they’ve treated me, but I try not to overthink it.
“You okay?” he murmurs into my ear, a shiver running down my spine at the feel of his breath on my skin. I turn to face him and his face is so close to mine that it causes my heart rate to spike. His gaze drops to my lips and before I can think anything of it his lips are on mine.
He kisses me like this might be the only chance he gets and it’s filled with heat. Want. Need. Pulling me onto his lap, I’m helpless, lost in the pull of him. The logical part of my mind tells me I shouldn’t be doing this. That this is absolutely not a path I should be going down, but my body is louder.
I place my hand on his shoulder and he stiffens a little before pulling back from the kiss.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, confused, wondering yet again if this is all just a game.
He shakes his head and takes my hands in his. “Nothing. I just don’t want to push you.”
I can’t help but frown at him. They’ve all been pushing me; just look at what happened in the pool house. He had no issues pushing me then. But I guess that was before…
“I’m sorry,” I say, feeling weirdly ashamed as I start to climb off his lap.
He grabs my chin and forces me to look at him. “Hey, none of that. I didn’t say I was done with you, just that I didn’t want to push you. I’m not here for that.” My eyes go wide at his words, and I feel more confused than ever. He grabs my hips, lifting me with ease, turns me around, and pulls me back onto his lap so my back is flush with his chest. “Let me look after you.”
A shiver runs down my spine as his lips touch my neck. The screen before us goes dark, and music starts playing softly in the room. I stiffen a little at the move and he pauses, putting his hand in my hair, gripping firmly until I can see him. “Relax, V. I’m not going to hurt you or do anything you don’t want to.”
“Okay.” The word comes out breathy and he releases my hair. In the next second, he has my hoodie up over my head and tosses it across the room, leaving me in my tank and leggings. His lips caress my shoulder as one hand wraps around my throat.
I suck in a breath and feel him smile against my skin as my heart rate increases. “I won’t ever hurt you again, V. Do you trust me?”
I nod, trying to relax as his hand slips beneath my leggings and panties.
Inching down at a snail’s pace, I barely register what’s happening when the pad of his middle finger reaches my clit and he applies just enough pressure to make a shudder run down my spine. Contrary to before, this time my body’s reaction is one of pleasure, not fear, and for that I’m grateful.
Finn scoots down just enough to spread his legs wider—opening my thighs to give him better access—then follows a path down to my slit. I can hear just how wet I am as his fingers slide up and down, in and out.
This is insane. I should be hating him and pushing him away, but I don’t. I can’t. Something inside of me wants this, even though I know I shouldn’t. When two of his fingers push in deep, I melt into his touch, feeling oddly secure—safe even—with his other hand firmly on my throat and pinning me down against his shoulder.
“Relax. I got you.”
Easy for him to say.
His fingers at my throat tighten as he brings my cheek to his mouth, the warmth of his breath like a drug.
His tongue burns a path of lust from my jaw to the slope of my nose. It’s so dirty and primal. It’s filthy and animalistic. It’s everything I should hate but don’t.
In fact, I fucking love it. That simple act of dominance gets me even wetter and by the low chuckle he lets escape, I’m guessing he’s figured it out too.
“Hmm, I licked you and now you’re mine.” I try not to laugh, because now is so not the time, but who says that? Feeling bold, I reach back to hold his head in my hand, but as quick as a snake, he’s got my wrist trapped in his fingers before he brings it to his mouth and kisses the inside of my wrist softly.
In the following second, every bit of my attention hones in on just how obvious it is that I want him.