Finley Embraces Heart and Home by Anyta Sunday
Love! Love! Your tenderness,
Your beautiful, watchful ways
K. Mansfield, “Covering Wings”
While Mum picks Tom up from hospital, Ethan and I play hide-and-seek with Julia in the house.
Julia runs off to hide and the separation feels extra poignant today.
I grip the banister. I’m only one step up, but I need to stop. Ethan should be running off to hide too, but he hesitates and threads his fingers through mine. “You okay?”
“He’ll be back any minute.”
Ethan smiles.
I’m smiling too, but mine is wavering. “When should we tell him? I don’t want to make him worse.”
“I’m made of heartier stuff than that,” comes a voice from the foyer. We lurch around. Tom is leaning on Mum as he shuffles over the glistening marble floor.
So shiny, like it’d been mopped with all our tears. Starting from the day I first arrived.
Tom stands where I’d dumped my bag that first day.
“What is it you want to tell me then?” Tom says.
Ethan’s hand grows clammy in mine and he swallows. I know he’ll tell his dad this time, I can feel it. But this time, I will help.
I let go, move down the stairs, and cross to him. “Glad you’re home, Tom.”
“Get to it, Fin.”
I hold my head high and meet his eyes. “You might hate this, but I know now you’ll still love us; emotions are complicated, I’ve learned that. And I don’t think you’d stop us seeing Julia.”
Mum huffs. “If he did, I’d leave Mansfield myself. No one is taking your sister away from you.”
Tom’s eyes are rooted on mine. “No one is leaving Mansfield. Now spit it out already so we can get on with our lives.”
Ethan is at my side, the comforting warmth of his arm pressed against mine. I knot our fingers together again. “I never meant to fall in love with your son. But I did. I am in love with him.”
Tom grunts. “Not as painful as I expected that to be.”
Ethan whisks me into his arms and I embrace him tightly.
“Also not so different than I’m used to.”
Our kiss is soft, delighted. Relieved.
Tom’s Adam’s apple juts hard from his throat. “That will take a bit of time.”
I laugh. I wrap Tom into a hug and whisper, “I’m so happy you’re home. I love you.”
“It’s ours. Ours.” Ethan pulls me over the threshold and into a passionate kiss. I laugh into it, giddy, light. I taste the river from our swim; it mixes with the scents of our new home. Old wood and polish, cut grass floating through the open door on a breeze.
I slide my fingers into his hair and kiss him harder. “Show me what’s ours.”
Ethan grips my hand and tugs me through the house. I’ve seen it before, but it’s different now. Our living room, our kitchen, our bathroom, our hall. He stands outside the spare room. “This is for you.”
“Oh. But . . .” I thought we’d be sharing a room. I’d kind of assumed. I try to smile but it’s hard to fight the feeling that a hundred pebbles are sinking through me to my feet.
Ethan gazes at me. I’m fairly sure he’s reading me right now.
I scowl at him. “Go on, then. Show me my room.”
He grips the handle and pauses. “I think you’ll love it.”
“I’m sure you made it nice and comfortable.”
“I certainly hope so. You’ll be spending a lot of time in here.”
“With you, I hope.”
“Sometimes, I’m sure.”
He grins, hand poised on the handle. His eyes twinkle as they take me in and my skin tingles. He’s freaking beautiful lounging against the door, his lower body arched slightly toward me, his lips reddened from our threshold-crossing kiss. Shivers rush through me, thickening at my crotch. We’ve been avoiding sex since Tom returned from hospital—it just felt strange, Mum and him knowing, assuming—and I . . . I miss him. These past weeks—Tom, Mum, Julia, all of us at Mansfield, helping Tom recover—we’ve been a family, truly together for the first time, and it’s been wonderful. But I want to feel my boyfriend, every inch of him, skin to gloriously naked skin. I want him, and I want him in a room that is not his. Not mine. Ours.
His grin widens.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you find my disappointment adorable.”
“Maybe because it is?”
I fold my arms. “I just got you, Eth. We’re finally in our own space, and I was kinda planning on having you always.”
Ethan grabs hold of my shirt and tugs me close. His laughter combs my jaw. “Can I show you your room now?”
He looks into my eyes and our lips are tingling, they’re so close.
He bumps my nose, twists the handle, and opens the door.
I remember this room. It’s where I’d helped Rush stow the pear tree, his housewarming gift. The tree is still there, in the sunniest corner of the medium-sized room, but the space around it has been transformed. Shelves line one wall, full of books, and a massive desk sits near the windows overlooking the garden. I move forward, taking it in, almost tripping on the plush rug. There are pictures of us on the wall. Our whole family.
Ethan is watching me from the door he’s still clutching. “Do you like it?”
It’s wonderful. “This isn’t a bedroom.”
He smiles. “If you think you’re sleeping without me ever again, you are truly mistaken.” He swallows, and there’s something softly nervous there. I cross to him.
I touch his chest and look into his eyes. “I love it.”
He whispers. “I want you to write all your stories, Fin. All of them.”
I kiss him. Giddiness roars through me and I . . . I . . . “Eth?”
“Fin. Let’s go to our room.”
Lamps casta soft glow over us. I suck on Ethan’s neck, moaning at the taste of him as I finger lube inside him. Every inch of me is ablaze. His naked heat moves against me, thrusting shallowly, his face tortured with arousal. Beautiful. I meet his lust-blown gaze and wrap my other arm around him, hauling him closer.
Our kisses are trembling and frantic. Nervous and needy.
His large frame engulfs me; I arch and wriggle and rub against him. My aching length slides behind his balls, between his slippery cheeks. My breathing quickens and Ethan captures my lips in a kiss.
I want you. I want all of you. I want to feel every inch of you around me.
He groans and grabs my length.
I pulse in his grip. Moaning, I move my hands to his hips.
He feeds me into him slowly and our gasps mingle.
Oh, Eth.
More, Fin. I need you deep.
He moves and my grip on him doubles.
You’re so tight and slick. Perfect. Oh, fuck, I could slide into you like this forever.
Ethan rolls his hips and clenches around me, like he wants to feel every inch of me too.
I rise up and catch his slackened bottom lip between my teeth. His erection rubs hot against my belly. The wet tip leaves quickly cooling trails on my skin. He cups my head and deepens our kiss. I feel him pouring his soul into me and I whimper. I’m thrumming everywhere; I can’t stay still.
He whispers for me. He meets every thrust halfway. My dick is being tortured with delicious friction and it feels so freeing. That we can have this. We aren’t hiding anything. We can love one another. Hold one another. Lust after one another.
His tongue darts around my ear and he nibbles my neck, his moans hot and ticklish. He’s whispering. Lie back.
I do. His thighs clamp around me, and then he throws his head back and grunts out my name as he rides me. His dick slaps against my belly and his rhythm grows faster, like he’s close, like he needs this as much as I do.
My legs stiffen, I call out a warning and Ethan takes hold of himself and jerks fervently. Everything about how open and easy he is, how much he gives in to his pleasure and mine and makes it ours . . .
I’m a dam about to burst. I grip his thighs, feeling them flex. I’m thrusting up in time with him and—
I want to live in you. I want to feel this forever.
Ethan cries out and ropes of come hit my chest. He spasms around me and—
“Eth.”
Deep inside him, I spill, and spill, and spill.
We stayin bed the rest of the day and all night. We make love two, three, four times . . .
I wake with him wrapped around me, and I wriggle back—
Five times.
We shower. Six times.
“I am so glad we live together,” Ethan says softly as he ties up my dressing gown.
I’m tempted to ravish him again.
He laughs and slips his own dressing gown on. “How about some pancakes first?”
I wrap my arms around his neck. “Happy seventh anniversary.”
His eyebrows shoot up.
“I mean, if we count from the moment when you were a princess and I fell out of that tree and—”
“Into my arms?”
“Into love with you.”
Ethan sucks in his breath and shuts his eyes. His arms tighten around me. He’s smiling. “If we count from the moment I fell for you . . . Happy seventh anniversary and a few weeks.”
I pull back and blink. “Really? When?” His eyes glitter.
The doorbell chimes.
Ethan, laughing, leaves me on the hook as he heads down the hall. I race after him.
He winks at me cheekily and opens the door.
Mum, Tom and Julia are on the other side.
Tom eyes our attire and turns to Mum, but he’s smirking. “I told you we should have called first.”
Julia charges in and I catch her in my arms. “We’re here for pancakes. We brought pears from the garden.”
Ethan and I trade glances.
I’ll cook.
He rolls his eyes.
We laugh. “Come in, Maata. Dad.”
“Welcome to our home.”
Later,as we say goodbye to Mum, Tom and Julia, Ethan cuddles me from behind and rests his chin on my shoulder. He says it for me; he says it for everyone. “I fell in love with you the moment I met you.”
Ah, what happiness it is to be with people who are all happy, to press hands, press cheeks, smile into eyes.
K. Mansfield, “The Garden Party”
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