Page 28 of Intense (Beneath The Blaze #3)

FINN

S he whispers it like a sin, like an invitation to her downfall.

That’s all it takes. That one breathy dare and my restraint snaps like a fraying wire.

I crash my mouth into hers, swallowing the fury, the fire, the broken parts of her soul she hides behind sarcasm and scalpel-sharp precision.

Her lips part with a gasp, and I take everything.

Every fucking sound. Every tremble. Every ounce of power she thought she still had.

I grip the back of her neck, dragging her closer, crushing her body against mine.

Her fists ball into my shirt, like she’s trying to push me away but can’t commit.

Because deep down, she wants this just as badly as I do.

She tastes like rage and ruin. Like the first thing I’ve ever needed more than I needed control.

And I hate it. I hate that I can’t stop. That my hands are already traveling, one tangled in her hair, the other gripping her hip like I’m staking a claim.

Like I own her.

Because maybe I fucking do. She is my goddamn wife.

Her moan breaks into my mouth. That desperate, wrecked sound that makes my cock throb behind the zipper of my pants.

I could fuck her right here. Against the rooftop wall.

Bend her over the ledge and brand her with every brutal inch of my obsession.

Let the city watch while I tear her open and put every lie to bed.

But I won’t.

Not yet.

Because this isn’t about lust. This is war, perhaps the one going on in my head. I pull back just enough to look her in the eye.

Her lips are red and swollen.

Her chest heaves against mine.

And her pupils are blown wide, begging me for more. Tempting me. Just like they did the first time I ever saw her.

“You kissed me back,” I whisper.

My voice is low.

Her mouth opens. Closes.

No witty comeback. No sass.

Just her. Laid bare for me.

I drag my thumb across her bottom lip, smearing what’s left of her lip gloss.

“That’s what I wanted. Not tears. Not lies.” My thumb hooks beneath her chin, tilting her face to mine again.

“That is the truth between us, Mrs. Quinn.”

She shakes her head like she’s trying to deny it.

But her body tells a different story.

I feel her chest rise against mine.

I feel her thighs tremble where they press into me.

I feel the war she’s trying to fight—but I’ve already won.

Because I’ve seen it now. The one thing I was yet to assess in my notes about Stephanie.

The way she falls when she’s not pretending to hate me.

The way she needs me to ruin her.

And I will.

But on my terms.

When I decide.

Where I choose.

I lean back just an inch and let my breath hit her lips.

“Are you going to deny it again?”

Her silence is everything I need.

And nothing I expected.

Because Stephanie Quinn just stopped fighting.

And now? Now I have no intention of letting her get back up.

With a chuckle, I step away and wipe my lip with a grin.

“You taste good, Dr. Quinn. Now, get back to work.” I give her a parting wink and head towards the stairs.