Beautifully Destroyed (Beautifully Broken) - Page 68

I repeat the action, totally absorbed by her response to me as I bring her to the edge of pleasure.

Finlay lifts her hands to my shoulders, gripping them tightly, and then her body takes over, and she starts to ride my finger.

“That’s it, baby. Let me make you come.”

I move my other hand beneath her sweater, but keeping it above the tank top and finding her breast, I squeeze and massage her, reveling in how her nipple’s hardening beneath my touch.

Our mouths almost touch, her rushing breaths mingling with mine.

“Ethan,” she whimpers, her lips brushing against mine, the friction so intense I want to devour her.

“You close, baby?” I murmur, my voice rough with desire.

“I don’t –” I push my finger deeper inside her and swivel it, massaging her tight-gripping walls. “Yes. Yes.” She drops her forehead to mine. “Oh…God, don’t stop. Don’t stop.”

“Not a fucking chance of that happening. Come for me, Fin.”

Pressing my palm to her clit, I watch as ecstasy tightens her features, making her look fucking breathtaking as her lips part, and she starts to convulse, her inner walls clamping hard around my finger.

“Jesus,” I groan. “I’m so fucked. You own me, heart and soul.”

Her body slumps against mine, her face planting in the crook of my neck while her hips gyrate on my hand. She rides her pleasure out until she jerks every time her clit brushes against my palm.

“Wow,” she breathes. “Just… wow.”

Pulling my hand from her jeans, I brush my thumb over her puckered nipple, then take that hand out as well.

I wrap my arms around Finlay, cradling her against me, then whisper, “My life.”

Chapter 27

FINLAY

It’s hard to explain how I feel.

The goosebump feeling of fingers trailing over my back. The satisfaction of a cold drink of water on a hot day. Curling my toes in the sand. The smell of rain. My fingers strumming the guitar. Sinking my teeth into a fresh slice of chocolate cake. Stretching after a good night’s sleep.

All of that combined doesn’t compare to how I feel right now.

Overwhelmed by the intimate moment I shared with Ethan, I wrap my arms around his neck and cling to him as tears spill from my eyes.

Thank you.

Ethan’s touch was the first from a man to make me orgasm. I tuck the memory in the deepest corner of my heart where I can cherish it forever.

Ethan presses a kiss to the side of my head. “You okay?”

Pulling back, I don’t care about the tears on my cheeks as I look at the man that’s gluing all my pieces back together.

“I live you.”

Ethan let’s out a soft chuckle, using his thumbs to wipe the wetness from my cheeks. “Was it that good?”

I shake my head, then stop. “No, it was good, but that’s not why I’m saying it.” My eyes caress every inch of his handsome face. “I mean it, Ethan. I live you.”

He inhales deeply as if he’s breathing my words into his lungs. Then he asks, “Was that your first orgasm?”

I nod before whispering, “Yeah. From a man.”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a satisfied grin that heats the blood in my veins.

Tilting his head, a tender expression melts the ice in his gaze. “Still feel disconnected from your body?”

I examine how I feel, especially focusing on the junction between my legs that’s still sensitive. The ghost-feeling of where Ethan’s finger was.

“It feels like I belong to you.”

A sad look draws his eyebrows together. He shakes his head. “That’s not what I –”

“It’s what I want,” I interrupt him. “I want to belong to you.”

I need to belong to him.

His gaze searches mine, and I don’t know what he sees, but it makes him relax, then the hot grin returns. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I smile, my body not feeling foreign any longer, because I’m not repulsed by the sick touch clinging to me. Now there’s a pleasant buzz on my skin, an afterglow of pleasure and not pain.

A swell rocks the boat, shifting me on Ethan’s lap and pressing his hardness against me. A flash of pain tightens his features.

I glance down then back up before blurting out, “I’ve never given a hand job or any kind of job before.” My cheeks heat.

Laughter bursts over Ethan’s lips. “So fucking cute.” Then he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about me.”

My tongue darts out, nervously wetting my lips. “I’d like to learn.”

Ethan freezes, his eyes locked on me.

The seconds tick by, each one making me more nervous, then I mutter, “Or not.”

“I’m trying to figure out what to do,” he admits. “The asshole in me is all for it, but…”

“Don’t say that,” I silence him, a frown forming on my forehead. “You’re not an asshole.”

His intense gaze that never misses a thing, searches my face for any signs I’m not ready. “I don’t want you to push yourself. I’m totally okay waiting.”

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