Page 85 of Rupture

Desired.

In the last few days she’d been to hell and back, but in this moment, she’d never felt more alive.

Warmth rocketed deep inside her. No one had ever looked at her like this. Made her feel like such a desirablewoman. The raw connection blindsided her, shook something loose she wasn’t sure she could ever put back.

Water slicked off his powerful frame, darkening the ink that marked his skin, turning it into something wild.

Everything they’d survived in the Io together had changed something hidden inside her. What she’d once thought was only appreciation for this protective, lethal man had morphed into something far more dangerous.

More real.

She licked her lips. She’d had a taste of him and she wantedmore.

Even if it was just for this one night.

Because that’s all it could be, right? A moment stolen from reality, a collision of fire and fate.

Her breasts were heavy, full, aching for his touch.

Finn inhaled sharply, his pupils darkening with raw, undiluted need and a slow, wicked thrill shot through her. She pushed her shoulders back, emboldened by the way his gaze tracked every movement like he was starving.

The hard wall of his body bumped hers. Heat. Packed muscle.Finn.

Anticipation crackled over her skin.

He lifted a damp strand of hair from her forehead, tucking it back with surprising gentleness, his voice a reverent growl. “So fucking beautiful.”

Blood scalded her cheeks, her pulse hammering in her throat.

Finn caught her chin, tilting her face until she had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Don’t let anyone tell you different.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “Smart.” His lips brushed over her closed eyelids. “Determined.” A sharp graze of teeth against her earlobe. “Bolshie.”

Her eyes flew open as his words startled her into a breathless laugh. “Bolshie?”

He smirked.God, that smirk.

“I like a woman who can take care of herself.”

His words speared through her, electric and undeniable, sending shockwaves to her core. His fingers drove into her hair, anchoring her as he tilted her head back, exposing her throat. Before she could draw breath, his mouth was there, hot and claiming. The scrape of his teeth sent little detonations of pleasure skittering across her skin, each tiny bite stoking the heat pooling between her thighs.

Her knees gave, but Finn was already there, his grip firm on her shoulders, keeping her above the waterline. Sensation ran through her like quicksilver, liquid and all-consuming.

He traced a deliberate path up the curve of her neck, unraveling her with every heated press, every slow drag of his mouth. When he reached the delicate shell of her ear, his teeth caught her lobe, his bite just enough to make her gasp. Her fingers locked on his arms, her nails pressing into sinewy muscle, seeking something to hold on to as the world narrowed to the feel of him.

“I want you.” His voice was thick. Rough-edged. “More than I’ve ever wanted any woman.” The rasp of his unshaven beard scraped the sensitive curve of her ear.

Breathe.She forced herself to inhale, to exhale. In. Out. In. Out.

“We almost died,” she whispered, trying to secure herself to reason. “Is this just—survival? Gratitude we’re alive?”

Finn’s hand skimmed down, tracing her contours, until his palm covered her breast. Rough, yet tender. “No.” Thetimbre of his voice shifted to a deep rumble. “Do you want me, Rose? Do you want this?”

Everything about him was a contrast to her. His gritty strength to her measured intellect, his physicality to her precision. And yet, instead of clashing, they fit.

She grasped his wrist, pressing his palm against the frantic rhythm of her heartbeat, letting him feel what he did to her.

Then, reaching for one of the sea sponges beside the bath, she dipped it into the warm water, watching it darken and swell in her fingers. She let it soak, swirling it gently, before pressing it into his hands.

She wanted to wash away the weight of everything—of finding and losing her sister in the span of days, of grief bound too tightly around her heart.

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