Revenge On The Ice

Chapter 3

The hallway outside the private room felt impossibly long. Every step I took echoed in my ears, each one a reminder that I was alone with him...Coulten Finley—the man I had no business wanting, and yet couldn’t stop thinking about.

He didn’t speak as we entered the room. His presence was suffocating, magnetic, and the air between us crackled like electricity. I wanted to step back, wanted to run, but my feet wouldn’t obey.

Coulten closed the door behind us and finally turned, his gaze locking onto mine. He was calm now, controlled in a way that made me shiver with a mixture of fear and longing.

“Sit,” he said, voice low, almost dangerous.

I did. My back straightened, but my hands fidgeted in my lap. My mind raced, spinning with questions I knew I didn’t want answers to.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He smirked, that infuriating, unreadable expression. “What do I want? I want to see how far you’ll go, Oriana. I want to watch you break, and maybe… maybe I want to see if you can handle being rebuilt afterward.”

I stared at him, stunned. There was something in his eyes—something dark and almost tender—that made my heart lurch.

“I don’t understand,” I admitted, my voice shaky.

He stepped closer, and I felt the heat of him wash over me. “You will,” he said simply. “But first… you need to admit something.”

“What?”

“That you’re here because part of you wants it. Wants me. Maybe more than you want to hate me.”

My stomach twisted. My pulse hammered in my ears. I couldn’t deny it—not completely. I wanted him, even though I shouldn’t. Even though every instinct screamed danger.

“I…” I faltered, words failing me.

“Exactly,” he said, leaning closer until our faces were inches apart. “You want me, Oriana. And you’ll fight yourself for it, but deep down… you do.”

Heat pooled between my legs. I pressed my thighs together, trying to control the betrayal of desire. My breath caught as he let his gaze roam over me, slow and deliberate, making my skin ache.

“Stop looking at me like that,” I whispered, almost pleading.

“Like what?” His voice was smooth, teasing, yet edged with something sharper. “Like I see you for what you really are?”

I couldn’t answer. My throat tightened. He did see me—every flaw, every crack, every heartbeat. And it was terrifying.

Then he moved closer, hand brushing my cheek. The contact sent a jolt through me, impossible to ignore. I shivered, caught between the need to pull away and the desperate urge to lean in.

“You’ve been hurt,” he murmured, his lips near my ear. “Betrayed. Humiliated. And yet… you’re still here. You’re still standing. That makes you dangerous. That makes you irresistible.”

I swallowed hard. The words, soft as they were, hit me like a punch. Every nerve in my body screamed, a mixture of fear, shame, and burning desire.

“Coulten… I—”

“No,” he interrupted, sharp now, dangerous again. “Not yet. You’re not allowed to speak until I say so.”

My body tensed, and yet a part of me… craved it. His control, his dominance, the way he made me feel small and alive at the same time.

He circled me slowly, each step deliberate. I felt like prey, and yet, strangely, I wanted to be. He stopped behind me, hands brushing my shoulders. The warmth of him against my back made my pulse race.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, voice low, almost a whisper.

“I… I don’t know,” I admitted honestly.

He leaned down, lips brushing the shell of my ear, hot and teasing. “Good. You shouldn’t. Not yet. But you’ll learn—everything has a purpose.”

“What purpose?” I asked, turning slightly so I could see him.

“To teach you something you’ve forgotten,” he said. “To teach you that heartbreak can burn… but it can also ignite.”

He pressed closer, and my breath hitched. Every inch of me was alive, screaming, aching, trembling. I tried to pull away, tried to deny the fire he lit inside me, but my hands shook, my body betrayed me.

“You’ll regret this,” I whispered, though even I didn’t believe it.

“I don’t do regrets,” he replied. “I do consequences.”

And then, before I could even brace myself, he pressed his lips to mine.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t tender. It was fire, and heat, and danger all at once. His hands were firm on my waist, pulling me against him, and I gasped, caught between shock and the pull of desire I had been denying for months.

Every nerve in my body lit up. My mind screamed for him to stop, yet my body begged him to continue. I was drowning in him, in the danger, in the intensity that made me forget everything else—Gavin, betrayal, humiliation.

“Coulten—” I gasped, but my protest was weak, powerless against the magnetic pull of him.

“You don’t get a say right now,” he said, voice low, a growl vibrating through me. “You’ll learn to surrender… or you’ll burn.”

And in that moment, I realized something terrifying.

I didn’t want to resist.

I wanted the fire. I wanted the chaos. I wanted him.

Even if it meant falling even further than I ever had before.

Because with Coulten Finley, danger had a face… and desire had a price.

And I was ready to pay.