Page 185 of Break the Ice
And the worst part—the part that terrifies me and thrills me in equal measure—isn’t the wanting.
It’s howsafeit felt to want.
My teeth clench around the soft cotton as I fist my cock, pumping hard while their echoes riot through my head.
Her frenzied cries. His guttural groans.
The slap of skin, the wet sounds of her taking him deep, the sight of his fingers gripping her thighs hard enough to leave proof behind.
“Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck—” The curses rip free as my strokes turn rough, frantic. My pulse is howling, hips jerking up into my fist as the heat builds hotter, tighter, meaner.
I can’t control it. Don’t want to.
The tsunami hits fast and brutal, my body bowing tight as I spill across my stomach in sharp, shaking spurts. The memory of his release, hers, mine—all tangled—blurs behind my eyes until I can’t tell where one ends and the next begins.
I keep working my fist until it’s too much, until every muscle unclenches all at once, leaving nothing but ragged breaths and the smell of sex in the air.
The panties slide from my teeth to my chest. I hold them there, right over my hammering heart, clutching them like a lifeline while the room finally stills around me.
For the first time in years, maybe ever, I don’t feel like I’m drowning.
I just feel… hungry.
For them. For more.
For everything.
The sun is creepingup in the sky when I wake up sprawled naked over my rumpled sheets. It takes my brain a moment to catch up with itself. With the events of yesterday and last night.
A whisper of excitement flutters in my stomach, bubbling up my chest as I slowly sit up. When I brush my hair from my face, Finley’s underwear is threaded around my wrist. A tangible reminder that last night actually happened. It wasn’t a vivid dream my subconscious concocted from the afternoon we spent together.
It was real.
My blood instantly heats. The memory of Jayden and Finley together intensifying when I rub my hand over my face, dragging a long inhale of the fabric wrapped around my wrist.
What the hell am I doing?
Pushing up to my feet, I head for my bathroom. Toying with the skin-colored lace while I pull them from my wrist and knot them around my fingers as I pause in front of the mirror to get ready for my first day back at training.
The adrenaline pumping through me has me soaring high.
Things aregood.
Last night was insane. Incredible. And fuck…
My thoughts crash to a stop when my stare catches a glimpse of the necklace around my neck. An unexpected gift from my grandmother when I left Havenview.
That woman had never given me anything other than punishment. Every chance she got to assert the fear of God over me, she took it. It doesn’t matter that the moment she gave me this necklace, was one of the nicest we’ve shared because whenever I see it in my reflection, whenever I take it off or put it on, it’s the punishment I recall. The consequences of sin…
“I’ll bleedit out of you, boy,” Grandmother shrieks, her hand tangles in Finley’s hair, dragging her from her back door to the kitchen drawer where she keeps the sharp scissors.
When Fin’s tears finally whimper past her lips, my chest pulls apart at the choked sound.
“We didn’t do anything, grandmother. I promise.” Desperation drags my voice into a high-pitched yell when she cuts the ends of Finley’s hair suddenly. “Stop!”
“How dare you raise your voice at me, in my house that you desecrate with…with…” A disgusted scowl twists her face with every haphazard swipe of the scissors. “With your sin.Your vile actions. Boys and girls don’t touch.”
The sun-bleached lengths of Finley’s hair float to the floor. Her curls unraveling like chestnut ribbons in the air.
