Chapter 24 – Ariane - The Lie She Can’t Carry
Richard is asleep when I finally gather the courage to slip into his room.
The light is too sterile and intense, illuminating every crease in his face, every fragile line of tape and wire.
His chest rises and falls in a measured rhythm, like the machines are pulling breath for him, reminding his body to keep fighting.
My throat constricts, anxiety needling from inside my chest. He looks both impossibly small and impossibly far away.
I don’t sit beside him. Neither do I touch his hand. I just stand in the doorway, arms wrapped around myself, like some cowardly shadow that doesn’t belong here.
Finn had been inside too long before. Longer than I thought he’d be, given how discomfitingly amenable he’s been to letting Mom monopolize bedside time more than any of us. I’d stayed far away while he was inside, giving him a wide berth.
I told myself it was out of respect, for father and son, for the tension of their history, but the truth is that I didn’t want to be in the room with both of them.
I didn’t want to feel Finn’s presence at my back while I tried to pretend everything was fine.
My lies don’t survive long under his eyes.
So, I waited.
And now, I leave before Richard stirs, and the pressure in my chest follows me out into the hall. It doesn’t ease; if anything, it clamps tighter. The steady beeping of monitors echoes in my ears long after I’ve stepped away, a reminder I can’t silence.
Julian’s betrayal plays in my head like a cruel slideshow… his texts, his arrogance, the careless way he threw me away for someone else. And then Finn. God, Finn. His mouth, his hands, the way I let myself fall into him like I’d been waiting for that fall my whole life.
Shame coils in my stomach so violently that I think I might be sick. Am I really any better than Julian? He broke promises with another woman. I broke every vow before it was even spoken—with Finn. My stepbrother. Richard’s son.
Yet, when I can’t stop myself from remembering, it isn’t only shame I feel.
At the thought of his weight on me. The way he kissed me like he was starving.
The way I let him ruin me and whispered yes, yes, yes like it wasn’t wrong at all.
The way part of me wanted it so badly that guilt feels almost laughable. Almost.
I stop at a window overlooking the hospital garden and reflection catches me first. My cheeks are flushed, my eyes too bright, lips swollen like they’re confessing for me.
I look like someone who’s been branded. Hunger is carved into my face like vandalism.
I don’t recognize this woman. Maybe I don’t want to.
I press my palms to the glass, willing the cold to bleed into me, to settle me.
Mom’s voice is louder than the machines, louder than my shame: Do not make me bury another scandal.
That’s what she said about my engagement ending.
I wonder how she would react if she found out about Finn and I. God, I’m so screwed.
My feet move before my mind catches up. Down the back stairwell, the air colder, shadows thicker. The kind of place you go to hide or to be found. Each step echoes too loud. Each step feels like betrayal, like confession, like survival.
The door groans when I push it open, spilling me out into the back lawn of the hospital.
The night air hits me, stinging and biting, and I suck it in like it might burn away the taste of sin still on my lips.
The lawn is half-wild, forgotten by anyone with shears or order.
Hedges overgrown, leaves scattered, the skeletal shape of trees against the night sky.
He’s there. Of course he is. Fate is playing tricks with me.
The lawn’s a tangled wilderness, half-forgotten by the hospital, shadows swallowing everything in sight.
Overgrown shrubs snag at the bottom of my jeans, leaves crunching under my boots like brittle bones, and that skeletal tree stands like a sentinel, begging for sins to be spilled beneath its twisted branches.
Finn's is leaning against an overgrown tree’s trunk like he was born from the darkness itself.
His cigarette glows red-hot between his fingers, smoke twisting into the night until he drops it, crushing the ember under his boot with a deliberate grind.
He doesn't ask why I'm here. He knows, and that knowledge sends a shiver racing down my spine, pooling hot between my thighs.
I was just thinking about what my mother would do if she found out about us and now, I’m here not even trying to fight the urge to be fucked senseless by this man. Smart. Very smart, Ariane.
Every breath I draw is heavier and slower than the last one, pulling me toward him like a magnet. My body betrays me, each step closing the gap until there's nothing left but heat and tension. My heart pounds wildly, and I can feel my skin flushing under his gaze.
Before I know it, we’re inches apart and his mouth meets mine.
It’s a savage crash, teeth nipping, desperate gasps leaving our mouths like we're both gasping for life and the only salvation is in each other's breath.
His hands seize my hips, fingers bruising as he shoves me back against the tree.
I gasp as the bark bites into my spine, rough and unrelenting, scraping through the fabric of my shirt.
But instead of complaining or even telling him to stop, my back instinctively arches into him harder, the pain twisting into exquisite pleasure, making my core clench with need.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he growls against my neck, his voice a dark rumble that vibrates through me, his lips scorching a path down my collarbone.
“Neither should you,” I gasp, yanking him closer, my nails raking his shirt, desperate to feel his skin, to erase any space between us.
Within moments, my clothes shift as he yanks them off in a feverish frenzy.
First my jeans, which he throws on the ground and then my shirt, until I’m standing in my underwear.
The cold night air whips against my bare skin, raising goosebumps that only heighten the fire building inside me.
But it doesn't stop us. We're feral, clawing at each other like we've been denied this for lifetimes, his breath scorching my neck, his hard body grinding into mine with a fury that's half-rage, half-insatiable hunger.
His hands slide onto my thighs until he hooks into my panties, tearing them down my legs in one swift, possessive yank. I step out of them without a second thought, my legs trembling, my pussy aching and exposed to the night air, the thrill of it making me wetter.
We're under the tree, shrouded in its shadows… but this is a public place. And it’s not just any public space: it is the hospital grounds, for fuck's sake… anyone could stumble upon us, hear my panting, see us locked in this forbidden fuck, and we’d be done for.
The thought crosses my mind—but, even though the notion terrifies me, there’s some twisted part of me that is exhilarated by the idea.
The danger ignites a fire beneath my skin, my pulse thundering as he presses me harder against the trunk, the bark digging into my bare back like jagged teeth.
In one swift motion, he unhooks my bra until I’m standing there completely naked.
Finn presses his body into mine. The friction scrapes my back raw. The texture of the tree trunk is grating against my skin with every movement and my back screams from the pain of it. Yet I couldn’t care less. When I whine, it’s only for him.
Owning me, Finn lifts my leg, hooking it around his waist. His free hand clamps over my mouth just in time to stifle the protests bubbling up as my eyes dart around to see if anyone’s around. My heart is pounding so hard, my chest aches from the pressure.
"Quiet," Finn rasps damningly in my ear, his breath hot and commanding. "You don't want anyone hearing how fucking desperate you are for my cock, do you? What would Eleanor say if she saw you now?"
Fuck, I love when he talks dirty to me. A dark part inside me enjoys it. Likes to be led by him.
My muffled whimpers vibrate against his palm, my eyes rolling back as he unbuckles his belt smoothly, smacking cool leather against my clit in passing. He grins when I cry out against his palm. He’s still fully dressed, and he only bothers to bring his jeans down enough to be able to fuck me.
God, he’s big. His thick, throbbing length presses insistently at my entrance.
But I'm dripping for him, slick and ready, and before I can protest or even overthink this moment, he thrusts in one brutal stroke that fills me completely.
I choke on a moan, squeezing around him, shaking, shaking, shaking like a leaf.
The bark tears at my back, rough and unforgiving, gouging into my flesh with the first savage pound, leaving stinging welts that burn like fire.
But the pain twists into something wicked, blending seamlessly into bliss, my body a raging inferno, craving more, more of him, more of this brutal ecstasy.
My stifled screams vibrate against his hand, raw and desperate, only fueling his relentless drive, the risk of discovery turning every thrust into a heart-pounding, mind-shattering addiction.
The tree shudders with our frantic rhythm, leaves rustling like sly conspirators sharing our filthy secret, the distant glow of hospital lights a taunting reminder that we're utterly exposed, naked and fucking like animals in the open.
I can hear faint voices drifting from the building—nurses laughing softly, patients murmuring in the night—and it sends a dark thrill surging through me, my imagination running wild with eyes on us from those windows, witnessing this raw, animalistic claiming, judging us, envying us.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he growls, his voice a guttural snarl that vibrates through my bones, his teeth sinking deep into my shoulder, the agonizing bite sending electric shocks straight to my throbbing clit, making it pulse with need.
"Taking me like this, out here where anyone could watch.
You're mine, Ariane, every fucking inch of you—your tight pussy, these gorgeous tits, all of this shaking body. "
I nod wildly under his iron grip, my walls clenching around his thick cock like a vice, squeezing him tighter with every punishing stroke, the bark carving raw trails across my skin, drawing tiny beads of blood that mix with our sweat.
I'm utterly lost in the ecstasy, grinding back against him with shameless abandon, my hips tipping up to meet his every relentless thrust, chasing the orgasm that's building like a violent storm, coiling low in my belly, threatening to rip me apart.
My breasts bounce wildly with each brutal thrust, the cold night air teasing my rock-hard nipples, sending shivers of pleasure-pain racing through me, adding layers to the overwhelming sensation that's drowning me.
His free hand roams possessively, rough fingers pinching my nipple hard, twisting it until I arch in agony and delight, drawing out biting, muted gasps that he smothers callously with his palm, his grip tightening like he owns my every sound.
The night's pulsing with peril—the faint hum of voices from the hospital growing louder, the crunch of possible footsteps on fallen leaves echoing closer—but it only heightens the raw, primal intensity, the way he's fucking me against the tree trunk like he owns my soul, his cock slamming into me with a force that jars my bones, stretches me to my limits.
Sweat slicks our bodies, mixing with the damp night mist that clings to us, and I can smell the earth churned up beneath our feet, the lingering smoke from his earlier cigarette on his breath, the heady musk of our arousal thick in the air…
It's intoxicating, overwhelming, driving me closer to the edge with every breath.
I squeeze my eyes shut tight, tears pricking at the corners as the pain in my back flares hotter, the rough bark grinding against my spine like sandpaper, each thrust shoving me harder into it, bruising deep into my muscles.
It hurts—fuck, it hurts so much—but the ache merges with the pleasure, turning it into something euphoric, something I never want to end.
"Does it hurt?" he rasps, his voice low and taunting, his hips never slowing, pounding into me with even more ferocity, like he's testing me, pushing me.
I nod frantically against his hand, my body trembling, a whimper escaping through his fingers.
"Good," he growls, his tone dark and satisfied, his thrusts turning even rougher, more savage, as if my pain is his fuel. "You fucking love it, don't you? The hurt, the risk—it's what you need. Take it, Ariane. Take every goddamn inch like the filthy girl you are."
His words ignite me, sending fresh waves of heat crashing through my core, my pussy fluttering around him as the pain and pleasure collide in a dizzying spiral.
"Scream for me," he demands, easing his hand just enough for my cries to leak out, muffled but desperate. "Let them hear how much you want this cock destroying you."
Helplessly, I do, my voice breaking in ragged moans that blend with the night, my nails digging into his arms, leaving my own marks as he fucks me harder, deeper, the tree bark embedding its texture into my skin like a permanent tattoo of this moment.
This isn’t love. This isn’t safety.
But goddamn, it feels like the only truth I've ever known, the only fire that can consume me whole.
When it's over, my back is on fire from the bark, stinging like a brand, my pulse a frantic drum, my hands shaking as I scramble to dress myself.
Finn doesn't budge, just watches, doesn't say a word at first, just pins me with his cold, piercing eyes, like he's claimed every fractured shard of me. And fuck, maybe he has.
“This will destroy us,” I whisper, my voice thin and shattered, knowing it's inevitable.
“Then let it,” he replies, quiet and merciless, each word sealing our fate. "I'd burn it all down for this."
I turn and stumble toward the hospital’s glowing windows, the night air biting at my sweat-damp skin, guilt clawing at me with every step. My body's raw, aching, my heart irretrievably lost, and still, all I can think about is him—the taste, the feel, the fire.
Already craving the next forbidden blaze.