Page 105 of Scavenger's Oath

Ivy’s hips tilt again, and I groan as my cock slides against her, catching on that perfect dip at her entrance.

My breath breaks and I start to push in. The tight ring of her entrance squeezing my crown as it disappears inside her.

Holy fuck, it’s so tight.

That's when I see her hand twitch, small fingers curling loosely. Soft. Vulnerable.

Trusting.

I tear myself away so fast it feels like ripping a band-aid off, backing myself against the wall.

An inch of my hard cock glistens with her. My stomach churns with disgust at what I just did.

What I almosttook.

I stare at the slickness on my crown like it’ll fucking haunt me—because it will. My chest heaves, skin burning.

Fuck, I crossed a line.

Almost crossedallof them.

And I want to fall to my knees and fuckingconfess.

But I won't wake her now. Ivy deserves her sleep. Even if I don't deserve to be the one watchingover it.

Chapter 35

Phoenix

Zane stomps into the kitchen like a storm cloud. Thunder cracks behind his emerald eyes.

He's in a mood. And not his usual brooding kind. This is different, tight around the mouth, scarred muscles taut, no eye contact, no sarcasm. Doesn't even grunt hello when he walks into the room.

I lean over the map I've drawn, pen in hand, one eyebrow arching. “Rough night?”

His jaw tightens but he says nothing.

Interesting.

Unable to resist poking the bear, I smirk. “What is it this time? The cold? Food? The fact that Ivy woreyourshirt to bed but still smelt likeme?”

He still doesn't answer. Just sinks into a chair like gravity is double in his direction, folding his arms over his bare chest, glaring at me through the black strands of hair falling over his eyes.

Zane doesn't ignore shit like that.

I look at him properly now—really look—and something about the set of his shoulders, the storm behind his eyes… it's way off.

“Did Ivy kick you in her sleep, or did you have another wet dream you couldn't act on?” I prod further.

His eyes lift slowly, a muscle in his jaw ticking like a goddamn metronome. “Careful,” he growls. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

I raise my eyebrow, wearing a shit-eating grin. “Never said I was. I’m just observant. And right now? You look like you wanna murder someone… preferably me. But you're usually a little more vocal when you’re jealous.”

Zane leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, fingers steepled in front of his face. “You done?”

“Not even close.”

He shrugs. But the tension in his shoulders is a fucking beacon.