Page 99 of Intense (Beneath The Blaze #3)

STEPHANIE

I check the time on my phone. Finn is late.

He’s never late. Like, ever.

We’re supposed to be cake tasting tonight, and I need him there so I don’t end up ordering us a ten-tier chocolate monstrosity. Because I would. My sweet tooth has no shame.

I grab my bag and make a beeline for Finn’s office.

“Steph!” Poppy calls.

I turn, smiling. “Hey!”

“I wanted to ask…” she trails off, twirling her thumbs.

“Go ahead.”

“Now that you’re… with Dr. Quinn. Like, officially. Does that mean you’re leaving?”

The question knocks me off balance. I hadn’t even thought about it. Technically, dating your boss isn’t a great look. But quitting? The thought makes my chest tighten. I love this place. I love my job.

Still—logistics? That’s another thing. We want kids. Vacations. We have the Trials. God.

“No, I won’t be,” I tell her, though the weight of it settles heavy in my chest. It’s something I’ll need to talk through with my husband. Maybe even move hospitals. Later. Not now.

Because right now all I can think about is chocolate cake and wedding dresses.

“I need to pop in to see Finn. Coffee tomorrow?” I offer.

She nods, smiling. “Have a good evening, Steph. It’s good to see you happy.”

I wave and push through Finn’s door. His voice fills the office, deep and commanding. A smile creeps across my lips.

He’s behind his desk, in front of the computer, on a video call. The hospital director, Bruce’s clipped voice filters through the speakers.

I slip the door shut quietly and drop to my knees.

Finn’s eyes snap to mine. One brow arches, and he crooks a finger.

Heat licks through me. I crawl to him, palms against the polished floor, until I’m under his desk.

“Yes. I understand,” he says smoothly, gaze never faltering on the screen. “I’m more than happy to assist with any transition process. I’m not leaving the state.”

I settle on my knees, hands gliding up his shins. He doesn’t stop me. My grin widens. Higher, higher, until I reach his belt.

“What timescale are you thinking, Dr. Quinn?” the director asks.

Finn clears his throat. My heart pounds. I free him from his trousers, my mouth watering at the sight of his cock heavy in my hand.

“My wedding is in three weeks,” he answers evenly. “So let’s say… two months?”

Two months? My brows knit in confusion. What the hell is he talking about?

His hand fists in my hair, tugging me up until my lips part.

I take him in my mouth.

And Finn Quinn doesn’t miss a single beat.

His fingers tighten in my hair, guiding me into a rhythm that has my throat burning and my core aching. His voice stays smooth, collected, like he isn’t buried halfway down my throat.

“Yes… two months is workable. I’ll ensure a clean handover.”

My eyes snap up to him. Handover? My pulse spikes, but I don’t stop. I take him deeper, hollowing my cheeks, desperate to draw out the cracks in his mask.

“Thank you, Director. That’s all for now.”

He ends the call with one hand, the other still tangled in my hair. His head drops back against the chair, a hiss tearing through his teeth as I swallow around him.

Then his hand tightens, pulling me off him with a wet gasp. My lips are swollen, my eyes glassy, but he doesn’t let me move. His pale gaze pins me like steel.

“I quit,” he says simply.

My chest caves. “What?”

“I quit the hospital, love.” His thumb brushes across my mouth. “You keep your job.”

The floor tilts beneath me. “Finn, you can’t?—”

“I can. I did.” His jaw is set, but his voice softens.

“I’ve watched you bleed for that career.

Work every shift you could grab. Fight tooth and nail for respect in a world that tried to take it from you.

I’ll never be the man who steals that from you.

If we want a family, and all the other things we have planned, we both can’t work here. ”

Tears sting my eyes. My throat tightens.

“You don’t need to sacrifice for me, we can make it work,” I whisper.

His hand cups my cheek, rough and tender all at once. “I’m not sacrificing. I’m choosing. And I finally realized—” His voice cracks. “It was never the job I was obsessed with. It was always you.”

The words hit like a blade to the chest.

“I want children with you,” he continues.

“I want nights where I’m not buried in surgeries or charts.

I want mornings where the only thing I’m studying is the rise and fall of your chest while you sleep beside me.

I want our family. And I don’t need this fucking hospital to prove who I am. I only need you.”

I can’t breathe. Can’t move. My hands clutch his thighs like I’m holding myself up with the last strength I have left.

“Finn…” My voice breaks. “You’d give that up for me?”

“For us,” he corrects softly, tipping my chin up until my eyes lock on his. “Because all the control, all the precision, all the power—none of it meant shit until you walked into my operating room and lit me on fire. You’re my obsession. You always were. The rest was noise.”

And then he pulls me up onto his lap and his mouth is on mine, swallowing my tears, his kiss bruising and claiming all at once.

I straddle his lap, clinging to him like he’s oxygen, and in a way, he is. He always was.

“Finn Quinn,” I murmur against his lips, “I think you just became the perfect husband.”

His smirk is wicked. “And I haven’t even fucked you over my desk yet.”

His smirk fades into something darker as I shift against his lap. His cock is still hard and pressing against my thigh like it owns me.

“Desk.” His voice is gravel.

I shake my head, clutching his jaw, my tears still wet between us. “No. I want you to look at me while you claim me, Finn.”

His breath catches, his eyes narrowing, and for a beat I think he’ll argue. But then his hands snap to my hips, dragging me closer, grinding me down over his cock through my panties.

“You’ll get every fucking part of me, temptress. You’ll take it all until you can’t move.”

I gasp as he yanks my dress up; little does he realize I only changed into this in the hopes he’d do exactly this. He tears the lace panties clean down the middle. My legs are spread wide across him.

His mouth finds mine again as I sink down on him.

“Oh, fuck,” I choke, nails clawing at his shirt. He’s so deep, my body stretching to take him, to hold him.

His forehead presses against mine, sweat beading at his temple. He isn’t in control now. His thrusts are erratic, desperate, each one harder than the last.

“You feel that?” he pants.

“That’s me. Not the surgeon. Not the psycho. Just the man who would rip the world apart to keep you.”

Tears slip down my cheeks again and he kisses them away, his hips snapping up into me so hard the desk behind us rattles even though we’re not on it.

“Finn—” My moan tears from me as my orgasm builds too quickly. “I love you. God, I love you.”

His head falls back, throat straining, and for the first time I see him let go. No control. No precision. Just wild, devastating need.

“I love you, Stephanie.” His roar vibrates against my lips as his release crashes into me, mine unraveling right after, my whole body convulsing around him.

We cling to each other in the aftermath, shaking, breathless, ruined.

His face is buried in my neck, his voice muffled and wrecked. “See? You don’t need a perfect husband, love. You just need me. Exactly as I am.”

I thread my fingers through his damp hair, holding him tight. “Exactly as you are, Finn. And I’ll never let you go.”