Page 111 of What You left in Me

The heat between us is a fucking inferno, scorching everything, and without wasting a second, I’m inside her in one brutal thrust. Her scream tears through the office, bouncing off the cold walls, clear and wild. The force of me slamming into her steals her breath. It’s not just pain, it’s raw fucking intensity, a primal surge that shakes her to her core. Her nails claw down my back, leaving fire in their wake as I move, relentless, my grip bruising, my body owning hers with every savage thrust.

Every thrust is a challenge, every grip a goddamn claim. She braces against the desk, knuckles white, legs clamped around my waist as I drive into her, faster, harder, deeper.

Part of me knows she hates this… hates how much she craves me. The Ariane who swore she’d never break, never give in, especially not to me. But there’s another part of her, darker, hungrier, that fucking thrives on this chaos, this fire.

She arches back, head thrown back, and I fuck her like I own her. Shit, I do. I always have.

“Say it,” I growl into her ear, slamming into her so hard the desk shakes. “Say you fucking want me.”

“Fuck you,” she gasps, but her hips meet mine, thrust for thrust, betraying her.

My hand wraps around her throat, not choking, but firm and commanding, sparking something feral deep inside her. Her breath hitches from the raw adrenaline I can feel pulsing through her. My grip says I’m in control, and she hates how much she fucking loves it.

“You’re mine, Ariane,” I breathe, low and possessive, the words dripping with primal need. Her whole body shudders, and I feel her surrender and hunger.

My other hand slides between us, stroking her clit, sending a jolt through her that makes her gasp. “Tell me how bad you need to come,” I rasp, scraping my teeth along her neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. “Tell me you need my cock to make you fucking scream.”

“No way,” she chokes out, but it’s weak, desperate, her body trembling under me.

I slow my thrusts, dragging them out, each one torturous for the both of us. I torment her with the edge of release. She whimpers, low and frantic, her hands clawing at the desk, legsshaking around me. She’s a mess, teetering between bliss and torment, and I’m the bastard pushing her there.

“Please,” she finally gasps, the word breaking free like a confession.

“Please what, my little whore?” I taunt, voice rough.

“Please… I need to come.” Her voice fades into a moan as I pick up the pace, just enough to keep her on the brink.

The problem is that I can’t hold back anymore. I push her down onto the desk, the cold surface making her shiver as her head thuds softly against the wood. Her body’s sprawled out beneath me, raw, exposed, and fucking perfect. My eyes rake over her, hungry and possessive, and for a moment, I’m the one losing control. She’s mine, completely unguarded. Completely fucking mine. Her skin’s flushed, her breaths shaky, and the way she looks at me, like she’s daring me to break her, sets me on fire.

Instead of begging further, she pushes her sweater up, exposing her breasts. She’s not wearing a bra underneath and the sight takes me by surprise. Her breasts are full and begging for it. I dip my head, teeth grazing her soft skin before I bite down, hard, on the curve of her breast. She cries out, a mix of pain and pleasure, which I stifle with my hand as I sink my teeth deeper, leaving marks that bloom red and purple, bruising under my mouth. The sight of those marks, my claim on her, makes my cock throb harder inside her. She’s trembling, arching into me, and fuck, it’s like gasoline on the fire raging in me.

“Finn, please… I can’t fucking take it,” she gasps, her voice breaking as her body coils tighter, shaking beneath me.

Her saying my name snaps something in me. The leash I’ve been holding breaks, and I fuck her with everything I’ve got, raw and unhinged. My hips slam into her, brutal and precise,stealing the air from her lungs. This isn’t just about possession anymore… it’s about fucking dominating her, owning every inch of her.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” I growl. “You love my cock tearing into your tight little pussy, don’t you?”

Her response is a high, helpless gasp, her body arching into me like she can’t help it. She hates that I’m right, hates how much she craves this, but she’s too far gone to care.

“Yes,” she whispers. “Yes, fuck, please… I’m gonna…oh, shit!”

My hand grips her thigh, spreading her wider until her legs can’t sprawl any further, forcing her to take every inch of me. She meets me, stroke for stroke, fighting me, grabbing and pulling at hair with all her might and begging for me all at once.

Her body seizes as she comes, a wave of raw pleasure crashing through her, obliterating everything. She opens her mouth to scream, but I clamp my hand over it once again, muffling the sound. Her teeth sink into my palm, stinging and desperate, and the pain shoots through me like a fucking lightning bolt, only making me harder. I don’t stop, driving into her deeper, harder, sending another climax tearing through her before the first even fades. She’s convulsing, trapped in a storm of pleasure that won’t release her, one orgasm bleeding into the next until she’s a trembling, wrecked mess beneath me. Her limbs go limp, breath shallow, skin slick with sweat, every nerve blazing as I keep fucking her, relentless, pushing her beyond her limits until she’s nothing but raw sensation, utterly ruined, sprawled across the desk.

She gasps and that does it for me. I come inside her, filling her up with everything in me.

I have her against me on the desk, her body limp on the surface, and her pulse thundering against my palm. her mouth is hot with the kind of surrender that pretends to be resistance as I stand in front of her, admiring her pussy, wondering how something so small could take me so perfectly. Her nails scrape my chest through my shirt, and every sound she makes feeds the dark animal in me that has been pacing for weeks. She’s still making small unintentional sounds like the orgasm is still coursing through her veins. This is mine. She’s mine. The whole house could collapse, and I wouldn’t stop.

The problem is… the house is never as empty as we think.

There’s a noise behind me. A sudden and startled inhale. A half-choked gasp that cuts through the haze of heat like cold water.

I freeze and Ariane stiffens against the desk.

I turn just enough to see the doorway, and there she is: one of the housemaids, eyes wide as moons, hand clamped over her mouth like she’s already screamed in her head. She takes one look at Ariane, flushed, completely undone, and my body caging hers against the desk, and her face twists in horror.

“Oh my God,” she breathes, and then louder, shriller, the kind of sound that rips straight through walls: “Oh my God!”