Page 94 of What You left in Me

Suspicion flares. “What do you want?”

“I want all of you, Ariane.”

My heart trips.

“You have all of me.” My voice shakes with fury.

“I want to take until you’re drained.”

I ignore the thrill, keep my mask. “Bastard.”

His tone shifts, command sliding in. “You have no idea.” The laugh he gives holds pain.

He grinds his teeth, then reaches up and undoes the makeshift restraints. He drags me from the post and throws me onto the bed. “Say that again, my slave.”

He folds over me like a dark tide, pressing down until the covers trap me. My stomach twists as a small sound escapes mymouth. The weight of his body both terrifies and thrills. His lips graze a path down the back of my neck. His fingers trail up my inner thigh, higher, higher. Each inch sets my blood boiling.

“Spread your legs,” he orders.

I obey without thinking. His fingers find me, sliding in. Two now, stretching, bruising. I need more. An orgasm teases, near but not yet.

He senses it and slides off. He kneels behind me, hands curling around my ankles possessively, spreading me wider. A cry rips from me as his tongue travels up my leg, wet pressure heading to where I ache.

When his mouth finds me, sucking my clit with obscene skill, my hips buck. I’ve never been so needy. So owned. This is freedom right here, with my master between my thighs.

A long finger joins his tongue, plunging deep, sending starbursts through my belly. I ride it, desperate for friction.

I need him inside. I need to be claimed.

He stands, hand sliding to my throat, dragging me up to kiss him. His chin glistens with me, filling me with my own taste.

He bites my lip, positions himself behind me. “I own all of you, Ariane.”

I’m not ready for the sudden, shocking entry of his cock. I cry out as he stretches me wide, giving no chance to adjust. My stomach tightens into a universe ready to burst.

A groan tears from me as he thrusts hard, taking me from behind. I tremble in an ecstasy I’ve never known.

His teeth graze my shoulder; fingers dig into my hips, jerking me back, stroke after brutal stroke. Each drag builds me higher, wetter, more vocal than ever.

“Fuck,” he growls, driving into me until my knees thud against the comforter.

His voice is the trigger. I scream into the pillow as I come, harder than I ever have, stars detonating behind my eyes.

The mind games, the connection, everything explodes, leaving me raw, trembling.

Finn’s domination burns through me. The good-girl mask rips away and I revel in the sound of our flesh meeting, his body chasing its own release.

His hips snap harder; his weight presses me down. My hands clutch the sheets, twisting fabric.

He fists my hair, arches my back, spanks my ass. “Fuck, I want to mark you.” Another slap. Another. Heat blooms with pain, twisting into pleasure until I’m on the edge again.

“Oh God,” I moan, shuddering as the pressure races up my spine. Not again. Surely not.

He curses, strikes again, and the sting opens another wave. I splinter, milking him a second time.

“Fuck,” he grunts, thrusting with feral strength, shaking me to the bone. I bite my lip, drawing blood, as he explodes inside me. Every spurt, every ridge. I take it all. His release is mine. Just as I am his.

My body is limp, stinging, blissed out and Finn finally pulls out, breathing ragged. I roll onto my back, watching him disappear into the bathroom. He returns with a towel around his hips.