Chapter 40 – Ariane – The Fire That Remains
Finn looks at me like I’m something he’s been rehearsing how to ruin. Not in the usual way, with his hands or his mouth, but with his words this time. With the truth that sounds like it’s been sitting in his throat for years, waiting for the perfect moment to cut through both of us.
He said it. I loved you before I knew how to name it.
And now I can’t breathe.
The room is too small for both of us. Or maybe it’s too full, packed to the ceiling with every unspoken thing we’ve ever swallowed.
The desk, the whiskey bottle, the leather chair in the corner, all of it feels like witnesses at a trial I didn’t agree to attend.
And Finn’s standing there like the goddamn prosecution and the confession rolled into one.
I want to move. To yell. To laugh. But all I manage is: “You can’t just drop something like that into a conversation and expect me to…”
He interrupts, because of course he does. “You asked why I kept you close.”
“Yeah, but I expected something like because you’re convenient, not because I loved you…”
His mouth curves into a smile. Fuck, he’s perfect. “You’d prefer convenient?”
“At least convenient comes with an instruction manual,” I mutter. “Love just comes with therapy bills.”
He huffs a laugh, running a hand over his overgrown stubble, and I hate that the sound makes me warm. He looks tired. There’s a bruise of exhaustion under his eyes and something in his expression that makes my chest ache in a way I don’t want to name.
“Oh, don’t worry I’ll be paying for your therapy…”
My stomach twists. “You’re such an asshole.”
“Probably,” he says. “But I’m the asshole who came back to you. Who will always come back to you.”
I look at him, at that smirk that’s barely holding up his exhaustion, and I want to hit him and then kiss him. “You make it sound noble.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not. It’s selfish. I came back because I can’t stop thinking about you.”
“That’s not romantic, Finn. That’s cynical.”
He smirks faintly. “You say that like I don’t need a diagnosis.”
I hate that he can still make me smile. I hate it almost as much as I hate how much I’ve missed him. I glance away, trying to gather myself, my arms wrapped around my ribs like I’m holding something fragile together. “You think love fixes things. It doesn’t. It just gives you more to lose.”
He closes the distance between us with that deliberate slowness of his, like a predator giving its prey a chance to run, even though we both know I won’t. His voice drops, low and quiet.
“I never said I wanted to fix things,” he mutters. “I just want you.”
The sound of it hits me like a pulse. I shake my head. “You say that like it’s simple.”
“It is simple.”
“It’s wrong.”
He smiles, a devastating thing. “Then why are you still here?”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. Because there isn’t a good answer.
Because he’s right, and I hate that he’s right.
My body remembers every time he’s touched me, every place his hands have been.
My heart remembers too, even if I pretend it doesn’t.
Is he still my step-brother? Will Richard and Mom get divorced now? God, this is so fucked up.
I look up at him, forcing my voice to stay steady. “You think saying you love me makes everything okay?”
“No,” he says. “It just makes everything real.”
The silence that follows feels alive. I can hear my heartbeat, fast and uneven. His eyes are on me, dark and full of something I don’t want to admit I recognize. I want him so bad. I want him to fuck me, spank me, and make me cry in bliss.
“Ariane.” He says my name like a touch. He brings his mouth closer until his lips are tracing my jaw and it sends a shiver through me. “Stop pretending you don’t want to forgive me.”
I take a breath that doesn’t help. “You’re not supposed to say that.”
“I’m not supposed to love you either,” he says, kissing me on the neck lightly. “But I do.”
I laugh weakly. “God, you’re exhausting.”
He reaches up, brushing his fingers along my lips, and my breath catches.
“You’ve been crying,” he murmurs.
“Observation of the year,” I whisper back, my voice shaking.
“Don’t,” he says quietly.
“Don’t what?”
“Hide from me.”
The words are simple, but they undo something in me. Because that’s exactly what I’ve been doing all this time. Hiding from him, the truth, and everything that still burns between us.
He leans in again, his breath close enough to make my pulse skip. “I told her I’d take care of you,” he says.
My brows knit. “Who?”
“Your mother. Before she left.”
I flinch. “You talked to her?”
He nods. “She asked me to keep you safe.”
“That’s…” My voice cracks. “That’s the cruelest thing she’s ever done.”
He doesn’t argue. Just says, softly, “I’ll keep my word.”
I tilt my face up before I realize I’m moving. He meets me halfway. His hand slides behind my neck, steadying me, grounding me, and I hate how right it feels.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs.
“I can’t,” I whisper. “You’d just ignore me.”
He laughs under his breath, low and rough. “You know me too well.”
“I wish I didn’t.”
“I wish you didn’t too,” he says, and there’s no humor in it.
Just hunger. That night, he fucks me senseless, ties me up, calls me his slave, and thrusts in me with force I’ve never felt before.
I tell him I hate it and it drives him insane.
That’s how we do it. Sex with him is adventurous…
too adventurous but this what I’ve signed up for.
###
I jolt awake, a moan tearing from my throat. My eyes snap open, the world tilting as I lie on my side, staring at the window’s pale glow. I know exactly where I am, who’s with me, and why my body feels like it’s been set ablaze.
Finn’s arm is a steel band across my chest, pinning me in place as he moves inside me, slow and deliberate.
I’ve never been taken like this before, intimate, yet distant, no need to lock eyes since I’m facing away.
It’s a position that, in the hands of someone skilled, could ruin me, hitting that perfect spot deep inside.
My cheek presses into the mattress, one hand fisting the sheets as my body sways with his rhythm. His steady, torturous thrusts are driving me to the edge of sanity.
I’m boneless, consumed, drowning in a haze of sleep and raw desire.
“You with me?” his voice rumbles low, his breath hot in my hair.
I squeeze my eyes shut against the sunlight creeping through the curtains.
Another day, another exquisite torment.
I know he will never misses a chance to claim me. My skin hums like it’s been doused in fire, every nerve sparking as he keeps me teetering on the brink. I’m too far gone to resist. His hand grazes my breasts, then settles at the base of my throat.
“Ariane.”
“Yes?”
He shifts me onto my back, still moving inside me, his body angled as he drapes my thighs over his.
His hair is a mess, eyes bloodshot, stubble rough and unkempt.
His thumb brushes the curve of my cheek. I’m not going to make this easy on him. I’ll torment him too.
“Look at me.”
“No.” I need to tease him to get him going, this much I’ve realized.
His fingers clamp my jaw, forcing my gaze back to him.
“You know I don’t like that word.”
I lash out, but he’s ready, snatching my wrist and pinning it to the bed.
“Let me in, Ari,” he growls against my sweat-slick temple.
“Never!” He drives himself deeper, making me gasp.
“You know this is where you belong.”
“You’re wrong!”
“Am I? Then why are you dripping for me? If you hate this, why are you gripping me so damn tight?”
“Just finish it,” I hiss through clenched teeth.
“I’m not rushing this,” he says, voice low and lazy, shifting his rhythm until my body arches against my will. “I want this to last.”
I savor his words. I want this to last too. I want to feel him inside me, throbbing, thick, and big.
“I don’t.” I lie.
“Life doesn’t always give you what you want,” he murmurs, kissing the side of my face. “Let me make you feel good.”
His hand slides down my body, slipping between my legs. My eyes fly open as he touches me there. Our gazes collide. He’s watching me, dissecting every flicker of emotion on my face, storing it like a weapon. I bare my teeth, clawing at his arm, but he doesn’t flinch.
“Stop toying with me.”
He’s turned me into his plaything, and I love it with every shred of my soul.
“I’m not some toy to fuck.”
His brow furrows. “That’s not how I see you.”
“Then why are you doing this?”
“Because you’re lying to yourself. Your mouth says one thing, but your body tells the truth.
Forget everything, Ariane. Just feel.” His fingers press harder, and I thrash my head, lost to the sensation.
His thrusts grow fiercer, my mind spinning as he kisses me, layering pleasure on pleasure until I forget everything.
“Tell me you want me.” His voice is distant, a faint echo. I barely hear it, so close to the edge.
He grabs my face, shaking it roughly. “Look at me,” he commands.
It takes everything to focus on him when my body’s screaming for release. When I meet his eyes, his grip softens, his fingers stroking my cheek.
“Tell me, Ariane.”
“What?” I reach down to finish myself just to get his reaction. Surprise glints in his eyes and he catches my hand, lacing our fingers together. “No touching, baby. That’s my job.”
“You’re not doing it!” I snap.
He gives me a strained grin. “Frustrated, Ari?”
“I hate you!”
He kisses the corner of my mouth. “You need to stop saying that.”
“You need to stop torturing me,” I pant, shifting my leg to change the angle of his thrusts. “Yes, there. Finn…”
“You know it could never be like this with anyone else.” His breath catches as I move against him.
He grabs my waist to stop me, but then groans, burying his face in my hair. “Goddamn it, Ari. This is how it’s meant to be.”
His pace quickens, and tears prick my eyes. His gaze burns into me, fierce and stormy.
“You feel that? This is ecstasy. Nothing else compares. No one else comes close. Admit it.”
My head thrashes as the climax builds.
“Please,” I beg.
“Please what?”
I let out a furious scream and surge forward.
He’s not expecting it, and I flip him onto his back.
His hands clamp down, thinking I’m trying to escape, but that’s not my plan.
I straddle him, bracing my hands on his chest, and ride him with abandon, chasing my own pleasure.
My hair falls wild, my mouth open as I gasp and moan, too lost to care how I look. When the orgasm hits, I scream.
Then, he pulls me down, his mouth meeting into mine. His hands grip my hips, spreading me as he thrusts harder. My second climax rips through me, and I pound the mattress with my fist as he groans my name, raw and guttural. I collapse onto him, stunned and sated. It’s never been this intense.