Intense (Beneath Blaze #3)

by Luna Mason

But now? I’m frozen in place. My brain is fucking glitching. Not because of him. Because of her. That kind of control… that kind of power… it’s rare. And dangerous.

I’ve spent most of my life pushing people away. Yet with Stephanie, I push and I push, and she never moves out of my orbit. She stands her ground. Maybe that’s why I gravitate to her.

Dr. Miller feels a lot. She is quite the opposite of me. I’m numb on the inside. She isn’t. She’s a fucking ball of fire waiting to erupt.

But he’s not. He’s everything. The chaos. The storm. The addiction I can’t name. Who will I become if I’m not constantly rivaling him?

But then Isabella curls her arms around my neck and presses her head into my shoulder. Her weight anchors me. Calms the rage always simmering beneath my skin. She’s, so far, the only person alive who can do that.

“This is gonna get messy, isn’t it?” “When has our life not been?” We were born into this. Raised in fire. Survived off of grief.

Hallie softened him, yeah. But under it all, he’s still fire. Still the fuse. The killing machine that we need.

What I don’t say is that the leaderboard is our version of foreplay. Because watching her fury when I win? It's the only thing that makes me feel alive during the week. And when she gains on me, those rare, rare moments she does? It’s chaos. Beautiful, addictive chaos.

“Fancy. Is there caviar on board? Champagne for the rich boy?” I tease. I know he hates it when I call him that. Yet, he has never offered me an explanation as to why I’m wrong. “Whiskey and nachos. I’m not your typical boring billionaire, Dr. Miller.”

“Not me, Mikhail. I’m the quiet one.” I smirk. His eyes crinkle at the corners. The mask is clever. I’ve heard it’s to cover the burns on his face. I think it runs deeper than that. But, unless I can prove myself to him, I doubt I’ll get to see his scars. Because no one will ever see mine either. “The quiet ones are the most deadly. I should know, I am one.”

From day one, I felt her dislike. It seeped out of her pores like venom. And me, being me, decided I liked that poison. I wanted more. I need to see how deep this can run. I like games. And this one keeps me inspired.

SHE WAS FIRE IN A DRESS. LOOKED ME IN THE EYE LIKE SHE’D SET ME ALIGHT TOO. WOULD LET HER.

“You don’t get to touch me, remember,” she says. But her voice cracks slightly. “Then stop looking at me like you want me to.”

“Have you ever done body shots before, Dr. Quinn?” She wiggles her eyebrows. I chuckle. “Stephanie, I don’t have the energy to fight every guy in here if you strip and lie on that table,”

Maybe if I push hard enough… I’ll end my obsession. Or maybe, I’ll drown in it. Can I really make this woman hate me? Is that even what I want? I’m not sure anymore. Because when she kissed me—drunk or not⁠— My entire world fucking stopped.

If one drunken kiss has my mind spinning. What would her complete submission do to me?

“You think my life was a walk in the park? Do you believe I was always this fucking ice cold?” He looks like he wants to tear his own skin off. “You don’t get this fucked up for nothing, temptress.”

His breath ghosts my mouth. My whole body screams with want. With conflict. With everything I’ve spent years burying. He’s taking over everything. And then⁠— “Kiss me and find out,” I whisper breathlessly. He’s done it. He’s broken me. And I know the second his mouth meets mine… There’s no going back.

She tastes like rage and ruin. Like the first thing I’ve ever needed more than I needed control.

He’s a disease I should’ve cut out the second he infected my life. But instead, I married the fucking virus. And now, I want him to ruin every inch of me.

“Now, what was surprising about being finger-fucked and choked?” he asks, genuinely curious. I shake my head with a small smile. “No. When you pressed down on my clit. You didn’t even search for it. You just... knew where it was.” He blinks at me. “Stephanie… serious question. How many brain cells did your past lovers have? And why couldn’t they find the clit? What the fuck were they aiming for?”

What does it say about me that the first man who ever made me feel safe is the one most capable of ruining me? What does it say that I want him to? Maybe I am a monster. But even monsters crave something real.

“There is a reason I need pain in my life, Stephanie,” I tell her. The most honest I’ve ever been with anyone since it happened. I know it’s not much. It’s not a revelation. But for me, it is. It’s like she understands the weight of it as she continues to trace them. “I understand.” My heart stops. “I really, really fucking hope you don’t,” I tell her. She gives me a sad smile. “I guess we will figure that one out.”

“You’re not used to being looked after,” he says softly, not as a question. I shake my head, eyes glassy. “No one ever has.” His jaw flexes. That controlled rage rising again, but not at me this time. For me. “You should be,” he says. “You fucking deserve it.”

“I didn’t mean to shake like that; you know I’m usually better than that,” I whisper. “I did.” “What?” “I wanted to shake you. Ruin you. But only if I could put you back together after.” God help me, I believe him.

“Because somehow, I wanted to show you how serious I am about this marriage. That it isn’t a game. That you fuckin’ own me, love. There’s only one way you’re getting your last name back, and that’s by becoming a widow.”

How do I explain to a fucking neurologist that I need my brain scanned because I’m too obsessed with my wife? That I’ve been so void of feelings for so long, I now can’t stop feeling things. That I’ve been laughing, smiling, and lusting over her. That I care.

Conan scratches his jaw. “So… are you a couple? Or just fucking? I’m confused.” Hallie smacks his arm. I glance down at my wife. She’s fighting a smile. “What are we, wife?” I ask. “We’re something not many people can comprehend,” she says, her voice confident. I like that answer. We are different.

The mafia? The killing? She could handle that. I see the dark in her too. But what happened to me as a kid? The hatred it left me with? The way I can turn off my emotions like a switch? That’s different. She deserves better.

I hand baby Liam to him, watching as he cradles the baby with practiced ease. And damn… it suits him. Daddy Finn. Hot. As. Fuck.

“I am crazy, Stephanie. You’ve told me that for years. Turns out you’re crazy like me,” he says, grinning. “You really want to stay married to me?” I ask softly. I’ve pushed him away so hard because deep down, I was terrified. Terrified of caring enough that he could leave me. “Yeah, I really fucking do, Mrs. Quinn. I rather like you.”

“You drive me insane, wife. Do you honestly think I have the time or patience to entertain anyone else?” He leans in closer. “You’re the only woman who’s ever had her hands on me like this. The only one who’s felt me fill her and drip down her thighs. The only one who makes my heart skip a beat. And you’re about to be the only woman I’ve ever let touch me back—look me in the eyes—as we both break for each other. So no, temptress. You’re the only one who gets this side of me. Understand how rare that is.”

“I have a past, Finn. When I said I’d made sacrifices to get here, I didn’t mean studying instead of going out. I had nothing, and I did some… things.” He grabs my chin, making me face him. “Things you do to survive aren’t mistakes. Our pasts make us. They can ruin us if we let them.”

“You simply have no idea, do you?” he whispers. My body tingles against his touch. “About what?” I ask, my voice breaking as I suck in a breath. “There isn’t a single soul more special than yours, temptress.”

“I’ve never had sex where the woman hasn’t been restrained. I’ve never had them facing me, looking into my soul. I’ve never trusted anyone to give even the smallest piece of me to them. There is no other word for my past encounters than simply “a fuck”. But you’re different. I want to change that, for you.”

I trace every inch over the planes of his chest, across the dips and rises of his abdomen, and around the swell of his shoulders. His breathing changes. Not rough, but heavier. Like he’s on the edge of falling, and I am the anchor he needs. Dr. Finn Quinn is vulnerable to my touch. “You’re dangerous like this,” I whisper. He smirks faintly. “Not half as dangerous as you.”

“I’m starting to get suspicious this is too good to be true. Are you sure you’re real? You aren’t a robot? Or a demon sent from hell to fuck with me?”

I’ve handed her parts of myself tonight I never meant to. Parts I keep locked in the dark, and here she is, doing the same. This isn’t just sex. This is a ritual. A binding.

“Maybe it’s a sign to finally set it free. We gotta work through it to come out on the other side, Finn,” I whisper. Stroking his cheek, I wipe away a tear, and the last part of my heart that I was protecting from him—just became his. “I’m scared, love.” He speaks so quietly. My own stream of tears is set free. “I know, baby. I know. But by holding onto it, letting it live in your brain, you’re letting that memory win. You’re giving it power that it doesn’t deserve from you.“ “I just want to forget.” “And one day, you will, I promise you. We can make new memories to replace the evil. We’ve got this. Come back to bed? Don’t let it win.”

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.

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 hate this for him. I can’t ever take this away from him. But I hope I can help him heal in some way. That he can realize he isn’t evil. He’s not a cold-hearted monster. He’s everything to me. Regardless of his past. No matter what made him who he is today.

“Do you still want me now?” I murmur against her skin. She nods against me. “Always. In fact, more than ever.” And for the first time in my life, I believe it.

“I don’t want to ruin you, too,” he sighs. I tug him closer, my grip catching on his chin until his face tilts toward mine. “I was broken a long time before I met you, psycho.” A grin curls at my mouth. “You just gave me the freedom to be myself.”

“You’re mine,” I whisper against her hair. “And I’ll never let you go. Even if I ruin you.”

“Family is everything to me, temptress. I’d die for them. I’d die for you. And for our children? I’d rip my own heart out for them. You’ll never have to worry. Here, we stick together. Always.” My breath catches as his fingers brush my cheek. “And now you’re part of the family too. You might’ve been alone for a long time, but not anymore. We’ve got you. I promise.” He leans closer. “Till death do us part, right?”

“I did tell you in Vegas you were missing out on him.” I let out a giggle. “You did. But I’d still have to try out alien dick if I ever get the chance.” He tuts and removes his hand. “Look, if my wife really, really wants it, I might let it slide, just once.” “Aw. That’s so sweet of you, letting me go after my dreams.” His eyes darken. “I don’t share, love. Please don’t ever ask me to. My only fucking hard limit here.”

“I love you, temptress. More than I can stand. More than I ever thought I was capable of. I thought love was a weakness. I thought it would destroy me. But you—” My voice fractures, my throat burning as I press my forehead to hers. “You’re the only thing that’s ever made me want to fucking live.”

What if I never get to tell him I love him again? He said it once. Those words. They meant everything. Enough to bury all the pain in me. Enough to make dying feel almost worth it, if it comes to that. Because I was loved—fiercely, completely. The kind of love people search a lifetime for.

Declan drags a hand over his face, muttering something about Quinn women always being terrifying.