Reclaiming the Sand Page 84

“No, you’re perfect, Flynn. Just as you are.” And I meant it. After all these years, I knew that who he was, limitations and all, was everything I had ever wanted.

How had I not seen that before?

Shit, here came the waterworks again! Enough already!

Tears were useless. They accomplished nothing.

But they continued to fall anyway.

But they weren’t the tears of the broken. These were the tears of someone being put back together.

Flynn, his eyes never leaving mine, grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. He dropped it on the floor, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Crap,” I muttered under my breath as I took in the sight of his naked and very toned chest. I couldn’t help myself. I reached out and touched the skin of his abdomen. His muscles quivered beneath my fingers as I softly traced a line along the length of his stomach.

“That tickles,” he said, sounding strained.

I flattened my palm, feeling his warmth radiate up my arm.

“Are you going to take yours off?” Flynn asked and I had to chuckle.

“Would you like me to?” I asked coyly.

Flynn cocked his head to the side, his gaze falling to my chest. His eyes burning holes through my shirt.

“I want you to,” Flynn murmured, his voice cracking as he watched me slowly lift my shirt over my head and join his on the floor.

Flynn’s fingers flexed and then came out to cup my breast. He really did have a thing for my boobs.

He groaned deep and low in his throat and I felt the warmth build between my legs.

Knowing I shouldn’t push him, but unable to stand it a moment longer, I wiggled onto his lap and straddled him. Flynn’s eyes widened and then his mouth went slack as I pressed down onto the erection I felt beneath his jeans.

“That feels really good,” he rasped. I grinned at the euphoric look on his face. I felt powerful and feminine and loved. Being held by Flynn like this was the most erotic experience of my life and we were still mostly clothed.

His lips found the space between my br**sts and he kissed me lightly. I shivered at the feather light touch of his mouth. His tongue tentatively licked the skin and I started to squirm as he squeezed and kneaded my breast.

Slowly and with a growing confidence, Flynn began to explore my body. I simultaneously wanted to slow things down and speed them up. I was on fire, being consumed, and Flynn was torturous in my destruction.

Passion had opened me up to a side of Flynn I hadn’t known existed. He became someone else. He was sure. He was steady. He moved his hands and his mouth as though he couldn’t get enough of me.

He told me I was beautiful in short, broken sentences. He stirred up feelings that I would never be able to push away again.

After a time, Flynn removed my pants, followed by his. It took him a while but we were finally naked together. Our breaths were shallow; my heart beat loud in my ears.

We didn’t say a word. We were lost in the sensations of touching and tasting each other.

“Am I doing this right?” Flynn asked after he had started to touch between my legs. He was careful and deliberate, stroking and rubbing with just enough pressure to make my insides turn to jelly.

“Yes,” I moaned as he slowly pushed a finger inside me.

This went on for hours or it could have been only minutes. I had lost track of everything, even time, as Flynn touched me.

Making love with Flynn was unlike anything I had ever experienced. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t awkward. Even as he fumbled with the condom. Not sure how to put it on I ended up having to take over, which we both enjoyed thoroughly.

It was his first time so it didn’t last that long. But in those few blissful moments, I felt closer to him than I had ever been with anyone else.

I had been right. What we shared was so much more than sex.

It was an intimacy that came from baring your heart to someone you knew would take care of it.

And he looked at me. Really looked at me. He didn’t hide his face. Our eyes connected and clung to each other just as our bodies clenched together tightly. There was no disappearing. There was no denying what this was.

It was love.

Pure and simple and completely complicated love.

The need to tell him burned my throat; my eyes glassing over with unshed tears as he pressed into me.

But I kept silent. Because words weren’t necessary. The truth was in the way we touched. The way we moved. The way our eyes never looked anywhere but at each other.

Speaking it out loud would only encumber the honesty that couldn’t be communicated with words.

“Flynn…” I said on a sigh, handing him my soul on the breath of his name. He rested his lips in the hollow of my throat, his hands gripping me tightly; sweat drying on our skin as we came back to earth.

I loved him.

I did.

I had never loved anyone before but now I loved with my whole being.

It split me open.

My guts spilled out on the floor at Flynn’s feet.

He owned me. Completely.

There was no coming back from this.

Flynn had reclaimed me.

27

-Flynn-

Many years ago…

I didn’t talk to Ellie anymore.

She was trying to say something to me in English class and I told her to shut up. Her hair was blue again.

I hated it.

I hated her.

She hurt me.

Her friends called me tard boy when I got to school this morning.

Ellie laughed too but then she said she was sorry to me later.

She always hurt me.

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