Page 79 of What You left in Me

Fuck, I love when he talks dirty to me. A dark part inside me enjoys it. Likes to be led by him.

My muffled whimpers vibrate against his palm, my eyes rolling back as he unbuckles his belt smoothly, smacking cool leather against my clit in passing. He grins when I cry out against his palm. He’s still fully dressed, and he only bothers to bring his jeans down enough to be able to fuck me.

God, he’s big.His thick, throbbing length presses insistently at my entrance. But I'm dripping for him, slick and ready, and before I can protest or even overthink this moment, he thrusts in one brutal stroke that fills me completely. I choke on a moan, squeezing around him, shaking, shaking, shaking like a leaf.

The bark tears at my back, rough and unforgiving, gouging into my flesh with the first savage pound, leaving stinging welts that burn like fire. But the pain twists into something wicked, blending seamlessly into bliss, my body araging inferno, craving more, more of him, more of this brutal ecstasy.

My stifled screams vibrate against his hand, raw and desperate, only fueling his relentless drive, the risk of discovery turning every thrust into a heart-pounding, mind-shattering addiction. The tree shudders with our frantic rhythm, leaves rustling like sly conspirators sharing our filthy secret, the distant glow of hospital lights a taunting reminder that we're utterly exposed, naked and fucking like animals in the open. I can hear faint voices drifting from the building—nurses laughing softly, patients murmuring in the night—and it sends a dark thrill surging through me, my imagination running wild with eyes on us from those windows, witnessing this raw, animalistic claiming, judging us, envying us.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he growls, his voice a guttural snarl that vibrates through my bones, his teeth sinking deep into my shoulder, the agonizing bite sending electric shocks straight to my throbbing clit, making it pulse with need. "Taking me like this, out here where anyone could watch. You're mine, Ariane, every fucking inch of you—your tight pussy, these gorgeous tits, all of this shaking body."

I nod wildly under his iron grip, my walls clenching around his thick cock like a vice, squeezing him tighter with every punishing stroke, the bark carving raw trails across my skin, drawing tiny beads of blood that mix with our sweat.

I'm utterly lost in the ecstasy, grinding back against him with shameless abandon, my hips tipping up to meet his every relentless thrust, chasing the orgasm that's building like a violent storm, coiling low in my belly, threatening to rip me apart.

My breasts bounce wildly with each brutal thrust, the cold night air teasing my rock-hard nipples, sending shiversof pleasure-pain racing through me, adding layers to the overwhelming sensation that's drowning me. His free hand roams possessively, rough fingers pinching my nipple hard, twisting it until I arch in agony and delight, drawing out biting, muted gasps that he smothers callously with his palm, his grip tightening like he owns my every sound.

The night's pulsing with peril—the faint hum of voices from the hospital growing louder, the crunch of possible footsteps on fallen leaves echoing closer—but it only heightens the raw, primal intensity, the way he's fucking me against the tree trunk like he owns my soul, his cock slamming into me with a force that jars my bones, stretches me to my limits. Sweat slicks our bodies, mixing with the damp night mist that clings to us, and I can smell the earth churned up beneath our feet, the lingering smoke from his earlier cigarette on his breath, the heady musk of our arousal thick in the air…

It's intoxicating, overwhelming, driving me closer to the edge with every breath.

I squeeze my eyes shut tight, tears pricking at the corners as the pain in my back flares hotter, the rough bark grinding against my spine like sandpaper, each thrust shoving me harder into it, bruising deep into my muscles. It hurts—fuck, it hurts so much—but the ache merges with the pleasure, turning it into something euphoric, something I never want to end. "Does it hurt?" he rasps, his voice low and taunting, his hips never slowing, pounding into me with even more ferocity, like he's testing me, pushing me.

I nod frantically against his hand, my body trembling, a whimper escaping through his fingers.

"Good," he growls, his tone dark and satisfied, his thrusts turning even rougher, more savage, as if my pain is his fuel. "You fucking love it, don't you? The hurt, the risk—it's what you need.Take it, Ariane. Take every goddamn inch like the filthy girl you are."

His words ignite me, sending fresh waves of heat crashing through my core, my pussy fluttering around him as the pain and pleasure collide in a dizzying spiral.

"Scream for me," he demands, easing his hand just enough for my cries to leak out, muffled but desperate. "Let them hear how much you want this cock destroying you."

Helplessly, I do, my voice breaking in ragged moans that blend with the night, my nails digging into his arms, leaving my own marks as he fucks me harder, deeper, the tree bark embedding its texture into my skin like a permanent tattoo of this moment.

This isn’t love. This isn’t safety.

But goddamn, it feels like the only truth I've ever known, the only fire that can consume me whole.

When it's over, my back is on fire from the bark, stinging like a brand, my pulse a frantic drum, my hands shaking as I scramble to dress myself. Finn doesn't budge, just watches, doesn't say a word at first, just pins me with his cold, piercing eyes, like he's claimed every fractured shard of me. And fuck, maybe he has.

“This will destroy us,” I whisper, my voice thin and shattered, knowing it's inevitable.

“Then let it,” he replies, quiet and merciless, each word sealing our fate. "I'd burn it all down for this."

I turn and stumble toward the hospital’s glowing windows, the night air biting at my sweat-damp skin, guilt clawing at me with every step. My body's raw, aching, my heart irretrievably lost, and still, all I can think about is him—the taste, the feel, the fire.

Already craving the next forbidden blaze.

Chapter 25 – Finn – The Price of Silence

The night presses down on the hospital like a fucking inferno. Floodlights wash the courtyard in a fake, hard daylight; everything the light touches becomes too obvious, every shadow too black. The smell is that antiseptic, wet-asphalt hybrid that sticks in your sinuses and never quite leaves… purity pretending to be mercy. Machines whirl somewhere inside like distant insects. A cart clatters down a hall, and it sounds like a percussion section in a funeral march.

I pace in a line. My cigarette burns down between my fingers, exuding smoke like a small, useless rebellion..

Ariane’s face is a constant bruise under my skin. God, I can still taste her: wet and lethal. Her bare hands clutching at me, all mine now that her fucking infernal ring is gone.

Fucking Julian…those texts may have cost me more than a black-market kidney, but it was worth it.

I would sell my own kidney if I meant keeping Ariane to myself.