Chapter 28 – Ariane – Bound to Him #4
He fists my hair, wrenching my neck to the side. Pain slices down my spine and a whimper escapes. “Would someone sane do this?”
Silence.
He twists harder until I scream, “Yes!”
Still unsatisfied, he snatches the scissors, shredding away my last defenses— my panties and his boxers flutter down together. He balances the blades in his hand, then drags the cool point across my stomach. “Would someone sane do this?” A flick of his wrist, and a shallow cut blossoms red.
A tear slips free. God, I was stupid to think this was good idea. I’m second-guessing my choices, but I know I’m in too deep now.
“No, only an animal would.” The words rasp from my throat.
Finn sneers. “Finally, you see.” He lowers his head and licks the blood from my skin, his tongue warm, soothing, undoing me with tenderness after cruelty. He straightens, lips glistening.
Everything inside me tightens. My mouth parts, aching to taste him back. To taste his blood. To make it even.
Finn’s hand closes around his length, stroking slowly while his eyes bore into mine. With his other hand he slides down, finding my center, easing a finger inside me.
Even though my body trembles and pulses, I don’t break character. He can’t know how much I crave this. I need to resist.
I dig deep, drawing on some hidden actress, coaxing a tear to fall. “I don’t want this.”
His nostrils flare. He lets go of himself and catches the tear on his fingertip. He looks at it, then at me, indecision flickering across his face like a storm. His tongue flicks out, tasting the salt. “You’ll be crying harder before I’m done with you.”
I start a mental list of what drives him. Tears. Struggle. Defiance. What would unmake him completely? I won’t stop until I know.
Another tear slides down, and I shove myself back into the old headspace— the one where I hated him. Finn doesn’t want meekness. He wants me unbroken.
His tongue sweeps my cheek, catching tears. I gasp and writhe, biting my lip as our naked bodies slide together. My nipples harden to aching points, harder than before.
He leans his forehead against mine. I breathe him in, glue myself to the post, make sure I don’t reach for him. That would wreck the game. I can’t want this.
“You’re so fucking twisted. Here I thought you were a good girl, Ariane.” His fingers drive between my legs, plunging deep. My knees shake as his hand rocks hard.
I whimper. My body swells, melts, needs. I’m ravenous for everything he gives, but I’m ravenous for the fight too. Saying no turns sex into something feral, something that shakes me apart. I’ve become a creature driven by lust; only Finn scratches that itch.
He murmurs words that are swallowed by the night-thick room. My breaths sound like a dream.
His finger pulses inside me. He sucks in a breath as I thrust against him, needing more.
I can’t help it. I moan.
He presses his cock against my hip, smearing pre-cum on my skin. His erection is a hot, hard temptation. His breathing matches mine, rough and uneven. “You can’t lie now. Not when your body tells me everything.” His fingers stroke deep, finding the places that throb.
He’s right. I can’t lie, and the tears come harder.
I want to scream take me, I’m yours. Instead, I rasp, “Get your fingers out of me.”
“You do want this, you slut.” His voice ripples with dark silk. How much of this is him acting, too? How far would he go without restraint?
His hand works faster, drawing more slick heat from me. My breasts ache for his touch, my mouth for his tongue, but my heart is so full I feel I might ignite.
Then he withdraws. “I’m the only one who can give you what you crave, Ariane.” His fingers press my cheek, smearing my scent. “But I won’t take it.”
He steps between my thighs, positioning himself at my entrance. He rubs the tip along me and a gasp escapes. A cry.
I rock toward him, begging without words. My need trembles on the edge of breaking me apart.
“Give me what I want, or you become nothing.”
I glare. “I’m already giving you everything. There’s nothing left.”
His eyes blaze. He drags a hand through his hair, steps back. My hips follow on instinct, mortified, but he sees. His mouth curls. “Always lying.”
I stay silent.
He paces. “I’ll take you any way you want… if you give me what I want.”
Suspicion flares. “What do you want?”
“I want all of you, Ariane.”
My heart trips.
“You have all of me.” My voice shakes with fury.
“I want to take until you’re drained.”
I ignore the thrill, keep my mask. “Bastard.”
His tone shifts, command sliding in. “You have no idea.” The laugh he gives holds pain.
He grinds his teeth, then reaches up and undoes the makeshift restraints. He drags me from the post and throws me onto the bed. “Say that again, my slave.”
He folds over me like a dark tide, pressing down until the covers trap me.
My stomach twists as a small sound escapes my mouth.
The weight of his body both terrifies and thrills.
His lips graze a path down the back of my neck.
His fingers trail up my inner thigh, higher, higher. Each inch sets my blood boiling.
“Spread your legs,” he orders.
I obey without thinking. His fingers find me, sliding in. Two now, stretching, bruising. I need more. An orgasm teases, near but not yet.
He senses it and slides off. He kneels behind me, hands curling around my ankles possessively, spreading me wider. A cry rips from me as his tongue travels up my leg, wet pressure heading to where I ache.
When his mouth finds me, sucking my clit with obscene skill, my hips buck. I’ve never been so needy. So owned. This is freedom right here, with my master between my thighs.
A long finger joins his tongue, plunging deep, sending starbursts through my belly. I ride it, desperate for friction.
I need him inside. I need to be claimed.
He stands, hand sliding to my throat, dragging me up to kiss him. His chin glistens with me, filling me with my own taste.
He bites my lip, positions himself behind me. “I own all of you, Ariane.”
I’m not ready for the sudden, shocking entry of his cock. I cry out as he stretches me wide, giving no chance to adjust. My stomach tightens into a universe ready to burst.
A groan tears from me as he thrusts hard, taking me from behind. I tremble in an ecstasy I’ve never known.
His teeth graze my shoulder; fingers dig into my hips, jerking me back, stroke after brutal stroke. Each drag builds me higher, wetter, more vocal than ever.
“Fuck,” he growls, driving into me until my knees thud against the comforter.
His voice is the trigger. I scream into the pillow as I come, harder than I ever have, stars detonating behind my eyes.
The mind games, the connection, everything explodes, leaving me raw, trembling.
Finn’s domination burns through me. The good-girl mask rips away and I revel in the sound of our flesh meeting, his body chasing its own release.
His hips snap harder; his weight presses me down. My hands clutch the sheets, twisting fabric.
He fists my hair, arches my back, spanks my ass. “Fuck, I want to mark you.” Another slap. Another. Heat blooms with pain, twisting into pleasure until I’m on the edge again.
“Oh God,” I moan, shuddering as the pressure races up my spine. Not again. Surely not.
He curses, strikes again, and the sting opens another wave. I splinter, milking him a second time.
“Fuck,” he grunts, thrusting with feral strength, shaking me to the bone. I bite my lip, drawing blood, as he explodes inside me. Every spurt, every ridge. I take it all. His release is mine. Just as I am his.
My body is limp, stinging, blissed out and Finn finally pulls out, breathing ragged. I roll onto my back, watching him disappear into the bathroom. He returns with a towel around his hips.
I sit up, flinching at the ache in my body. His face is shuttered and angry. He won’t meet my eyes.
A dagger of rejection pierces me. His seed trickles down my thigh, darkening the sheets. Tears prick. Did I fail him somehow?
I slide off the bed and crawl to him. He never demanded anything but humanness, yet here I am, crawling.
I clutch his towel, search those gray eyes. He doesn’t look like a man after sex. He looks like a man at war with himself.
My throat closes. “I’m sorry. I can do better. Please… give me another chance.”
The old me recoils. I’m begging my stepbrother. What the hell is wrong with me?
“You look beautiful like this.” His voice is quiet. “You were a good girl today. But I have to go… there are things I need to handle.”
The words sting and soothe at once. Pride and rejection in the same breath. I nod, unable to speak.
He bends, kisses me once on the mouth, soft and almost absent, and straightens. “We’ll talk later.”
Then he turns, towel at his hips, and walks out, leaving the room heavy with the scent of us, and me trembling on the floor, still caught between shame and wanting.