Broken Empire (Boys of Oak Park Prep 3)

I dragged in a breath, my heart beating hard and fast as my body buzzed with a sudden surge of euphoria and nerves.

My hands found their way to his chest, fingertips running over the smooth, soft fabric of his shirt, mapping the contours below. Our bodies moved closer together as if they couldn’t stand to be apart, and his lips were only a few inches from mine.

All I wanted was to fall into his kiss, to drown in it. To let it sweep me away.

But instead, before our mouths could meet, I opened mine and blurted the most mood-killing thing imaginable.

“I had sex with Elijah!”

Yup. That stopped him.

He froze for a second right where he was, and then he drew back, blinking down at me with his brows knitted together. But the things I’d expected to see on his face—anger, maybe, or disgust—weren’t there.

“Yeah. I know.”

Now it was my turn to blink at him stupidly. “You—you do?”

“Sure.” He chuckled. “There’s not much about any of those fuckers I don’t know.” His blue eyes sparked with something I couldn’t quite name as he ran his hands over the bare skin of my legs, his touch like a match to dry tinder. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t care if you slept with him, or if you do it again. Doesn’t change how I feel about you. Doesn’t make me not want you.”

My hands on his chest grew still.

“Why?” I swallowed, both loving and hating the words I was about to say—and the fact that they were beginning to feel entirely true. “Because… I belong to all of you?”

“Nah, Legs.” He shook his head, his grin beaming like pure sunshine. “Because we all belong to you. If you want us, anyway.”

His words, and the look in his eyes as he said them, cracked my heart open.

Ever since that day in the studio when Finn had handed me his phone, which had held the last bit of video footage the Princes had captured of me, he had gone out of his way to give me back my power. He had let me dictate the terms of our relationship, had let me decide how far back into my life to allow him. He had asked instead of demanded, offered instead of taken.

And he was mine if I wanted him.

My hands resting on his chest grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him toward me until our lips connected again in a kiss that was hot and consuming, tinged with desperation and relief.

This time, we didn’t stop. He didn’t pull away again, and I didn’t blurt out any more mood-destroying admissions. He tugged me closer to the edge of the wooden surface I sat on, bringing our bodies flush together. The height of the chest of drawers was perfect to allow the hardening bulge in his pants to press against the sweet spot at the apex of my thighs, and he rocked into me as he deepened the kiss, sliding his hands under the straps of my leotard.

When he pulled them down, slipping my arms free and letting the stretchy fabric pool at my waist, my nipples peaked at the sudden exposure to the air. I slid my hands under his shirt, running them over his skin. He was always so warm, as if there truly was sunshine inside him, radiating out with a soft glow.

He wrapped his arms around me, leaning forward to lay my upper body back until I reclined on my elbows. Then he worked his way over my newly exposed skin with his lips, making me squirm with pleasure and impatience.

“God, Finn!”

I bit my lower lip hard as he trailed his tongue down the side of my breast, and when he dragged my nipple into his mouth, repeating the action he’d done to my earlobe earlier, I writhed beneath him, not sure if I was going to survive the intensity of the feelings ricocheting through me.

He moved to my other breast, and I let out a plaintive cry, the noise shockingly loud in the small space.

His large hands moved over my waist and ribs, skimming gently over the scars on the left side of my body as his mouth continued to torture me. When I let out another noise, arching into his touch to demand more, he glanced up at me, his blue eyes heated and dark.

“Fuck, I like you when you’re wild, Legs.”

If I’d been able to form a coherent sentence, a coherent thought, I would’ve told him that he made me wild, that he and the other Princes had shown me this side of myself—the side who took what she wanted, who owned her pleasure and wasn’t afraid of bucking convention. Who didn’t care what anyone else thought.

But I was beyond words by now, so lost in the sensations Finn was bringing out in my body that I couldn’t think of anything else but him.

I sank all the way back onto the large bureau, angling my body a little so I didn’t hit my head against the wall, and reached down to tug at the hem of Finn’s t-shirt. He let me pull it off him, baring his broad, tanned chest. I’d seen him shirtless dozens of times, but I’d never been able to drink in the sight quite like this before. Not when I could touch as well as look.

And I did touch, running my fingers over the planes of his pecs, brushing over his nipples, exploring the contours of his cut abs. I could see why he never really felt the need to put much effort in during gym class. Football practice and whatever workouts he did beyond that had turned him into over six feet of pure muscle, powerful and cut.

He braced himself over me as I explored his body with my hands, letting me get my fill as he gazed down at me, an almost disbelieving expression on his face.