Chapter 29
Ivy
Myles slams into me like he’s trying to fuck the past out of both of us.
There’s nothing slow about it. Just wild heat. Hard muscle. His mouth breathing fire against my throat.
That split lip makes him so much more menacing. Just the way I like him.
Crying out, my back arches, legs locking around his waist. One of his hands holds my hip so tight I know he’ll leave marks. His other hand is on the nape of my neck, anchoring me in place on his messy bedroom floor.
“This pussy is mine,” he growls in my ear. “It’s always been mine. Say it! Say you’re mine.”
I’m gasping, moaning, nails digging into his back. “Yes—yours. I’m yours.”
“Louder,” he snarls, thrusting deeper, rougher. “Scream for me.”
“I’m yours, Myles!” I cry, the words tearing out of me as he fucks me into the floor. My body’s burning, the sensations dragging me toward that edge fast. And I want it. Desperately.
I love him when he’s like this—brutal, unhinged and terrifying. Like a consuming fire.
He mutters something broken against my throat that I don’t hear. One hand fisting in my hair, the other coming up to cover my mouth, silencing my voice.
Every thrust sends lightning through my core. His piercings dragging along all the places I crave. His cock is thick, angry, claiming me with every brutal thrust.
It’s rough and frantic, and it makes me feel fucking alive.
“That’s fucking right. Mine,” he snarls, voice filthy and proud. “They think they can touch you. Take what’s mine? They don’t know shit. I know what you need. I’ll make you want me again.”
I want to tell him I never stopped wanting him. Never stopped being his. But his hand is clamped over my mouth too tight, and any words tangle in my mind as my orgasm slams into me like a freight train.
My entire body bows off the floor as I scream into his hand, clinging to him, desperate for his weight to keep me flying apart. I come so hard, for so long, my vision whites out.
He groans deep, losing himself as my walls crush his cock. His grip tightens as he roars, blasting his come into me with a shudder of his hips.
Myles releases his hold on me, leaning on his forearms as he hovers over me. His chest heaves, sweat dripping onto me.
For a second, everything is still. An almost perfect moment. Just the sound of our breathing as I look up at him with admiration.
Then something shifts in his eyes.
I search his face, confused.
His expression is too intense. Too focused for a man who just spent himself. His eyes are still wild. Mind still somewhere darker.
His eyes follow his hand as it slides to my throat and trails down between my breasts possessively.
“Myles?” I pant, hands resting on his tattooed chest as uncertainty creeps into me.
“I’m the only one that should ever be inside you,” he mutters. But his voice is… off. As if he’s not even talking to me. “The only one who gets to claim you. They think they can touch you… steal you… they’re wrong. I’ll show them.”
I blink up at him, still trying to catch my breath. “What—"
He leans away, reaching for something nearby. I see the glint of metal before I understand what it is. The knife.
“Myles…” My brows knit, panic seeping into my voice. “What are you doing?”
His grip on it tightens, eyes lost and obsessed. “They need to fucking know. They need to see it. And you need the reminder. You said you were mine. Now I’m just making it permanent.” His tone is eerily calm, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Wha—what do you mean?” My eyes search his frantically. Butterflies churn my stomach. Not the fun kind—infected, sickly things that make me want to throw up.
The same knife he just made me moan with is now flipped, the blade facing me instead of its rounded handle.
“I’m carving it into you,” he says, matter-of-factly. “My name. Right here.” His hand slides across my ribcage to my upper stomach.
My breath cuts out. Cold dread washing over me, rooting into my chest like ice.
“No,” I squeak, fingers going numb as I scramble backward. “No, Myles, you… P-p-please. Put it down!” My heart pounds so loud I can barely hear myself speak as I scramble to my feet and back away toward the door.
The locked door!
But he’s already moving, lunging for me as I turn to bolt. He catches me by the ankle and drags me back down. I scream as I hit the floor hard, twisting, trying to kick free.
“Stop!” I shriek, panic searing my throat. “Myles, stop. Stop! Please, don’t do this!”
He’s trying to pin me with his weight again. Trying to calm me as I fight. But the knife is still in his hand, the edge flashing as he holds it too close to my skin.
We just shared something beautiful. Was it not the same for him?
Boots sound on the stairs as my heart hammers.
So I scream louder, thrash harder, clawing at whatever I can as I buck against him. “Get off me!”
He growls low, trying to keep me still. “You don’t get to run from this. Not after what you did.”
A bang echoes from outside the door.
“Ivy?!” It’s Zane’s voice, alarmed. “Where is she?”
“Ivy?” Phoenix shouts as the handle of the door rattles. “Myles, open this fucking door!”
“Get out of the way,” Zane barks.
The wood splinters with a crash.
Everything happens so fast I can barely process it. Phoenix’s body flies over me as he tackles Myles like a battering ram.
They hit the floor hard. A shout. A grunt. The knife flies from his hand, skittering under the bed. Phoenix locks him in a brutal hold, one arm around his throat, the other pinning Myles’s arm behind his back, legs tangling. Leaving Myles writhing but trapped.
“What the fuck are you doing!” Phoenix’s voice rumbles with pure rage.
Myles is screaming, bucking in his hold. “She’s mine! Mine! I’ll kill anyone who touches her!”
Phoenix snarls, tightening his chokehold and cutting him off. “You’re done, Myles! You went too far this time.”
Zane’s already at my side, checking me over before lifting me from the floor. Crying and shaking, I cling to him as he pulls me into his chest and carries me away from the madness.
He cups my face gently with his hand, whispering, “It’s okay. I’ve got you. He’s not gonna hurt you.”
His voice is calm, but I don’t feel calm. I feel splintered. Fear, shame and guilt tear me in different directions.
I don’t know which feeling is right. All I know is Myles’s voice rings out through the building… and some broken part of me still wants to run to it.
Trembling against Zane’s chest, I grip his shirt for dear life, too stunned to make a sound. I’m not sure I even believe him. Not with Myles still screaming in the background, his name burning into my skin even though the blade never touched me.
In my mind, all I can hear is Myles’s voice echoing over and over.
‘You said you were mine. I’m just making it permanent.’