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Scarlett’s POV

His husky voice made me tremble. “What is your name?”

“Scarlett,” I replied softly, and to my surprise, a smile crept across my face. A sudden surge of warmth coursed through me, surprising in its intensity, as if I were reconnecting with a forgotten part of myself.

“Finn,” he said, a matching smile lighting up his eyes. “Call me Finn.”

“Finn,” I repeated, savoring the sound, letting it roll off my tongue as if it were a name I was meant to say.

He stared at me, his deep blue eyes piercing through the walls I had built. They weren’t just beautiful; they were magnetic, drawing me in, making it impossible to look away. I felt my heart flutter, my breath catching as I tried to memorize every detail of his face. It was like he was trying to see beyond my brokenness, searching for the person I could be.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered.

I blushed. “Thank you. You look handsome as well.”

Without saying a word, he reached for my hand, intertwining his fingers with mine. His touch felt like a lifeline in a stormy sea as he led me away from the crowded ballroom, away from judgmental eyes. We didn’t need words. The connection between us was undeniable, an unspoken understanding. I wanted to believe this was fate—that Finn truly saw me beyond the broken girl my stepmother had tried to bury.

The cool night air kissed my skin, but Finn’s hand was warm, igniting a fire within me. We slipped into the shadows, our breaths mingling. His hands cupped my face, and for a moment, the world fell away. All the pain vanished. There was only him and the wild rhythm of my heart.

“Scarlett…” His voice was a whisper, his lips brushing against mine. “I’ve waited for this.”

Our kiss was a slow dance, the kind that made time stand still. Finn was gentle, patient, as if he knew how fragile I felt. I melted into him, my body reacting to the heat of his desire.

I was lost in him—in the taste of his lips, the pressure of his body against mine. Every touch ignited a fire within, a thrilling intensity that made my pulse race.

He pulled away, and we were both breathless.

“Come,” he said, grabbing my hand. “Let’s take this somewhere else.”

I followed him, feeling safe. Finn guided me to a room behind the ballroom, a private space with elegant curtains and soft lighting. He pushed the door open, and we slipped inside, the door clicking shut behind us. He didn’t speak, and neither did I. We didn’t need to.

His breath warmed my skin as he kissed his way down my neck, fingers slipping beneath the delicate fabric of my gown. A gasp escaped me, my heart racing with hope and desire.

As our bodies pressed together, his hands roamed over me, each touch sending sparks of pleasure through me. When he lowered me onto the soft bed, his body covered mine.

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice husky, searching my eyes for any sign of doubt. “I don’t want to rush you.”

I felt my cheeks flush, but I nodded, swallowing hard. “I… I want this,” I whispered, surprised by the steadiness in my voice.

Finn’s gaze softened, and he kissed me again, slower this time, savoring every moment. He undressed me with a gentleness that made me feel truly seen. Each touch and kiss reassured me that I wasn’t just a secret to be hidden.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured, his fingers trailing softly down my entrance. I shivered at the sensation, nodding in response.

My body arched when he gently slipped his finger inside me. A moan escaped as he started pleasuring me, sucking and caressing.

“Ah,” I moaned, my body burning with pleasure. I felt something building as he picked up the pace, his fingers moving faster inside me. I was on the brink of release when he suddenly pulled away.

“Why?” My voice came out low, filled with confusion.

“Easy, love,” he said, gently kissing my forehead. “I want to pleasure you beyond your imagination.”

I saw it in his eyes—something raw and intense, a hunger that mirrored my own. My wolf growled in recognition.

“Mate.”

He kissed me tenderly before undressing himself. My eyes widened with desire as I took in his body. It was perfect. This perfect man in front of me was my mate. I couldn’t wait to see the look on my stepmother’s face when I introduced him. I couldn’t wait to leave that hell I called home and start a new life with him—someone who could love and cherish me for the rest of my days.

I gasped at his length, so long and hard it seemed to threaten to tear me in two.

“Ha,” I gasped, fear creeping into my voice.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, noticing me tremble.

“Th… That,” I stammered. “Is that yours?”

He looked down and smiled. “You mean this?” he asked, holding his erection.

“Yes. Is that yours alone?”

“Haha.” He let out a chuckle. “It’s mine, and now, it’s yours.”

“Mine,” I repeated.

“Yes. Yours. Touch it.” He grabbed my hand. “It’s harmless.”

“Won’t it kill me?” I asked innocently.

“What the heck is going on in that head of yours, mate? It won’t kill you, but give you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams. Here, feel it.” He guided my hand to touch it. It was warm and soft, harmless despite its intimidating size. I began to explore it, running my fingers over its length.

He moaned, “Scarlett,” my name escaping his lips like a prayer. “Ah.” I became engrossed, touching and playing with his balls.

“I’m about to cum,” he groaned. I was still exploring when he spilled his seed onto my face.

“Ah. I love it, Scarlett.”

“What is that?” I asked, wide-eyed.

“You mean… Wait…” He stared at me in disbelief. “Have you never seen this before?” he asked, gesturing to himself.

I shook my head. “No.”

“Then no one’s ever… done this to you?” he asked, squeezing my breasts gently.

“Yes,” I replied truthfully.

“Ha, I struck gold,” Finn said, pulling me into a tight embrace. “I promise to treat you well, mate.”

The assurance in his voice—it was the first time I’d ever heard such words.

He gently laid me on the bed, positioning himself in front of me. “I’m going in.”

When he finally entered me, it wasn’t like the stories I had imagined. It was raw and real, a mix of pain and pleasure that left me breathless.

And then, slowly, he became my first, and it was everything and nothing like I’d imagined. His movements were gentle, careful not to overwhelm me, yet there was a rawness to it. A need that I could feel in the way he kissed me, in the way he held me so close as if he never wanted to let go. I clung to him, my body responding to his in ways I had never known possible, and for a fleeting moment, I let myself believe that this—this passion, this connection—was real.