Chapter 28
Myles
Peeking through the crack of my bedroom door, I grind my teeth.
There he is. Zane.
Slipping out of his room, shirtless, moving all relaxed like he’s just dumped ten loads in her. In my girl.
That door was locked last night. And yes, I did fucking try it. Because I swear to God, I heard her moaning. And I know I wasn’t imagining that.
My chest hasn’t stopped burning since. Not since I caught Phoenix between her thighs. Not since I saw the way she was grinding into his hand and moaning his name like she was about to come.
She was about to come!
And now what? Zane too?
She ran to him. She fucking stayed with him. All week. I wanted to smash the door down and take her back, but I need to be more strategic about reminding her who owns her.
I’ve tried to play it cool all week, but it’s getting me nowhere.
They’re both trying to sneakily take her from me. I can see it. Feel it in my blood. It crawls down my spine like fire.
Foster homes taught me if you don’t clutch what’s yours tight enough, it’ll be gone by morning.
I won’t let it happen.
I watch as Zane pads down the hall, glances up toward the roof hatch, then disappears up the ladder, hatch creaking.
So he’s heading up to the roof? Alone. Which means she’s still in his room… alone. Probably in his bed, still warm in his sheets. Probably wearing one of his goddamn shirts.
Stepping into the hallway, I breathe like a bull about to gore someone. That same burn in my chest as when that foster kid ripped my only photo of Mum.
If Phoenix touched her, and Zane touched her, and she let it happen… then what the fuck is left for me?
The floorboards creak under my weight, but I don’t give a shit. My pulse is hammering too loud in my ears for me to care.
Zane’s door is left cracked open. Not locked.
Fucking stupid.
Pressing my hand to it, I push it slowly. Controlled. Every muscle in my body wound so tight I’m shaking. My heart beats like a fucking war drum but the hinges stay silent.
Zane’s room smells like her already. It hits me the moment I push the door open. Her scent mixed with his, like she’s already been claimed.
My stomach twists. My fists clench.
She’s inside, sitting on the edge of the bed with her back to me, brushing her fingers through her hair. Not a care in the world. Like she just woke up from a good fuck.
She doesn’t even hear me enter. And it makes me feel fucking feral. Any strategy I planned to use immediately goes out of the window.
My fingers twitch at my sides as I drink her in. Her bare legs. His shirt hanging off her like it belongs there.
His. Not mine.
Not the one who found her. Who saved her. Who fought to keep her here and the one that she promised ‘I’m yours’.
Has she said that to them too?
I move before I even know I’m moving.
She gasps when she sees me, her lips parting in surprise, eyes wide, but I don’t give her time to scream.
Slapping a hand over her mouth, I grab her, arm hooking around her waist and lifting her off her feet.
Ivy squirms and kicks, making muffled sounds. But I’m already out the door with her, storming down the hall back to my room. Our room.
Setting her on her feet, I shove her inside—maybe a little too hard.
She stumbles over a pile of clothes and falls, landing hard on her ass.
Fuck!
I kick the door shut and throw the lock on with a brutal snap.
She’s breathing fast, but not scared, looking up at me from my messy bedroom floor. “Myles. What—?”
“Shut up,” I snap.
Pacing in front of her, I drag my hands through my hair like I’m trying to rip the madness out of my skull.
Stomping forward, I grab her by her wrists and yank her to her feet. “You think you can sneak around behind my back?”
Her lips part, stunned. “What are you—?”
“Don’t play fucking dumb!” I shout, walking her backward until she’s against the wall.
No one ever owns up to it when I call them out. Not the kids in foster care when I caught them stealing my things. Not the adults when they were questioned about my bruises.
And now Ivy denies too.
She tries to duck under my arm and get away, but I clamp my hand around her throat and slam her back against the wall.
Thumb pressed against her pulse, I force her to stay put. Her lips tremble, her eyes are glassy, but she doesn’t pull away again.
“I saw you with Phoenix,” I growl, the scab on the split lip he gave me splitting with every snarled word. “I heard you with Zane.”
She tries to turn her face away, but I tighten my grip, robbing her of air. My mark still lingers on the side of her neck. But on the other side… something new. Fading, but there. A hickey.
Phoenix fucking marked her?
A growl rips through my chest at the sight. “You moaned for them. On Phoenix’s fingers. In Zane’s bed! And you let him mark you? After what we did? After what you said to me?!”
“I—Myles, I didn’t…” she stammers, shaking her head frantically, eyes wide.
“You said you were mine!” I shout, voice shaking with fury as I tighten my hold around her neck even more. “You fucking said it!”
“I am!” she chokes out.
“Then why are you letting them touch what belongs to me?”
No one steals from me while I’m still breathing. Not clothes. Not food. Not her.
Her hands claw at mine, her face beginning to flame red. “I… I didn’t…” she stutters.
“You fucked him! Didn’t you?” I snap.
“No,” she gasps, eyes starting to roll into the back of her head.
“LIAR!” I roar, throwing her away from me before I suffocate her.
She falls to her hands and knees, coughing and heaving for air, hair falling over her face.
“He used his tongue!” she cries out between coughs. “But I didn’t sleep with him. I swear!”
My body locks up as a flash of it sears behind my eyes. Zane’s face buried between her thighs. Her back arching, fingers in his hair as she comes undone for him. Into his mouth!
Rage and betrayal crash through me like a wave. Storming towards her, I twist both hands into her hair and yank her up to her knees to look at me.
Her eyes lock onto mine, wide and pleading, brimming with tears.
I want to kill someone. I want to kill him. And then mark every inch of her skin, so she never forgets who she belongs to.
“Did he make you feel good?!” I growl, veins about to rupture from the pressure building. “You think he has what this pussy needs?”
Shoving her flat on her back, I straddle her and grab the collar of Zane’s shirt, ripping it in two with one brutal pull.
She screams as the buttons go flying, exposing her nakedness underneath, the shirt falling away like a second skin she never should’ve worn. I don’t want it touching her another fucking second.
My breath stutters.
There, on the soft skin of her inner thigh.
Teeth marks. Lightly bruised.
She let Zane mark her too?!
Rage flares hot through me as I see the evidence of her confession.
“You don’t get to wear their scent. Their marks,” I snarl. “Not when mine was still fresh on your skin. This body belongs to me.”
Ivy tries to crawl backward toward the bed but doesn’t attempt to cover herself. She’s breathless, cheeks flushed, nipples hardening.
She’s conflicted.
Good. Let her fucking feel it. How much she still wants me, even when she’s scared.
Holding her down, I climb over her like I’m about to devour her whole.
My fingers wrap around her throat again, just enough to hold her still. To remind her what this is.
“You said you were mine, Ivy,” I growl, quieter now, but more dangerous than ever. “Say it again.”
She stares up at me, chest rising and nods. “I’m yours.”
A beat passes and I wait for the feeling to wash over me.
Instead, I hear the voice of my old social worker. “You break everything you touch, boy. That’s why no one wants you.”
Snarling, I grab her thighs and forced them open, reclaiming the ground someone else tried to steal.
Ivy gasps but doesn’t fight me. Her hips twitch, she whispers my name, but she doesn’t stop me.
She wants it. She fucking likes this. Seeing me jealous over her.
Well who am I to deny my girl’s needs?
An idea crosses my mind, and my cock hardens at the thought.
“I’m the only one who gets to fuck this cunt,” I mutter bitterly, more to myself than her. “The only one who gets to ruin it. Only I know what it needs.”
Leaning over her, I yank open my nightstand drawer. Clutter and various weapons fall from the top as I rifle inside. Her legs tremble beneath me, but she doesn’t try to close them while I search. Finally, I find what I’m looking for.
The carved antler handle, heavy and cold.
My first hunting knife. A gift from Phoenix when I first joined the army. I keep it more for sentimentality these days. The grip’s smooth and worn down from years of use, fitting perfectly in my hand.
“Myles?” Ivy squeaks and shudders as she eyes the knife. But she still doesn’t fight me.
She trusts me?
“You don’t get to give this to anyone else,” I growl, dragging the blade between her breasts, over her stomach and down to her glistening pussy. “No fingers. No mouths. Not even objects.”
I flip the blade in my hand and run the rounded handle through her wetness, watching her body jolt. My cock pulses when I see how soaked she makes it.
As a kid, I learnt to mark my stuff by scratching my initials into them so no one else could claim it. I still do it. Guess this isn’t so different.
“I’m the only one that should be touching this cunt. And your body knows it. You’re already dripping, Ivy,” I taunt. “You’re fucking soaked for me.”
Sliding it inside her, I keep pushing until she’s taken the entire handle. Slow but not backing out an inch to let her adjust. She doesn’t deserve that right now.
She lets out a sharp cry, hips writhing as she takes the thick intrusion.
“See this?” I sneer, baring my teeth. “Even a useless knife gets more than those two.”
I thrust the handle again, watching her squirm. Her breath comes in sharp inhales as she fights the pleasure I know she’s feeling.
Yanking my sweatpants down, I pull out my throbbing cock. Feeling my piercings tug, I stroke myself roughly while I watch her pussy gripping my knife as I fuck her with it.
Growing impatient, I pull it out and toss it aside. Gripping her hip with one hand, I rub the head of my cock over her, lining up without ceremony.
“You’re mine, Ivy,” I growl, eyes locked on hers. “And I’m gonna make sure you remember that.”
I slam into her in one brutal, claiming thrust. Her eyes flash with pain and her mouth falls open with a cry that echoes off the walls. Ivy’s back arches, body giving me what she swore was already mine.
“Fuck,” I groan, my head dropping to the crook in her neck as I still. I need a second or I’ll blow too quick. “Fuck, you’re still so tight. Like this pussy forgot anyone else even touched it.”