Page 70 of Intense (Beneath The Blaze #3)

FINN

H er pulse is a drumbeat I can feel through my fingertips.

Nyx feels it too. I can tell by the subtle twitch of her muscles, the way she adjusts her coil so she’s settled high. She’s reading Stephanie’s body like I am. Watching the changes, gauging the intent behind them.

Stephanie isn’t frozen anymore. She’s leaning into me. Straining against the cuffs to close the space I deliberately keep between us.

Good.

The only truth that matters is what happens when there’s no safe distance left.

I let my fingers work deeper, slow enough to keep her on edge, hard enough to make her gasp. Every sound she makes is a confession. I’m not sure who is more vulnerable here. Because with each second that passes, she’s clawing more and more back from me.

Nyx’s head lifts slightly. I don’t move. I don’t speak. My breathing stays steady, my heart rate controlled. Telling her that it’s okay.

And then I see it—Stephanie’s eyes flutter closed, her mouth parting in a sound that isn’t fear. Her body isn’t tense for escape; it’s tense for release.

She’s not fighting me. She’s not fighting Nyx.

She’s giving herself over to both.

My chest tightens, and it’s not lust that hits me hardest. It’s that I know exactly what this means. Nyx has judged her, and so have I.

She’s mine. Not because she survived this. Not because she passed some fucking test. But because she’s sitting here, cuffed and collared by fate itself, and still choosing me.

I press my mouth to hers, claiming the sound she makes as if I’m sealing it inside me.

This is what it is to be accepted for every truth and every lie I’ve ever carried.

And for the first time in my life, I’m not just trusted.

I’m seen.

I keep exploring her mouth, tasting the surrender in her kiss.

Then I drop to my knees.

Her eyes widen, her breath catches, but she doesn’t speak. She doesn’t have to.

Nyx shifts slightly with the change in my height, her body still coiled loosely around Stephanie’s throat.

“You’re going to come on my tongue, love. You’re going to give the last pieces of yourself that you’ve been keeping from me. I want to see you break so I can piece you back together,” I tell her.

I push her knees wider. My hands grip her thighs, firm enough that she can’t mistake this for anything less than ownership.

And I bite down on the flesh inside of her thigh, making her cry out.

When my mouth finds her, she gasps, the sound vibrating through me. I keep my gaze locked on hers, refusing to let her look away.

“Finn, she’s getting tighter,” she breathes out.

That panic flickering in her voice.

“Just relax for me, baby. She won’t hurt you, I won’t hurt you,” I tell her.

Every flick of my tongue is deliberate, every draw of breath from her chest a mark I’m burning into memory. She tugs against the cuffs, not knowing what to do with herself. All her power has been stripped.

And yet, she’s never had more control over me than right now.

I want her helpless like this. Not from fear. From need.

Her eyes hold mine, even as her breathing stutters, even as her body trembles. I see the exact moment the wave takes her. Her pupils blown wide, her mouth parting in a sound she doesn’t try to hide.

“Keep your eyes on me, love.”

She obeys my command, and a jolt stabs me through the heart. Not in a painful way. In a way that makes me feel whole.

“Come for me, temptress.”

And she does, bound and crowned in Nyx, and she doesn’t look away. Soaking my face, I drink her in.

It shreds something in me I thought was indestructible.

Every barrier, every defense I’ve built to keep myself untouchable—it’s gone.

Because this woman doesn’t just take my darkness.

She makes me want to give her everything I’ve been guarding all my life.

And for the first time, I know it with absolute certainty.

I’m in love with her.

I don’t need scans and tests to know that.