Page 68 of Scavenger's Oath

Glancing at him over my shoulder, I give him the barest smile and lean further over the desk, letting the back of the shirt lift up higher.

It's a provocation and he knows it.

The air shifts behind me and I hear his quickened footsteps before his hard body slams against my back, pressing my hips to the edge of the desk.

He buries his face in my hair and breathes me in as if he’s been holding his breath this whole time. His hand snaps around my throat, inked fingers trembling like he's barely holding back.

“You don't get it, do you,” he snarls. “You don't know who the fuck you're playing with.”

“I think I do,” I murmur, lifting my chin, feeling the heat of his breath on the back of my neck.

“You think I’m like Myles?” he questions, voice gravel. “That I'll just take whatever you hand over like a starving dog?”

At least Myles took what he wanted. Loved every second of it and never lied about it.

Phoenix is all denial. He makes me work for it and still won’tadmit I’m affecting him.

“No,” I say evenly, “I think you're worse… because you want to pretend that you're not starving at all.”

That's when he snaps.

His free hand grips my hip before yanking my shirt up and dragging his palm over the curve of my bare ass. Slow and heavy like he wants to feel every inch of skin. Then his fingers splay, and he spanks me hard enough to make me gasp.

“Fucking brat,” he rumbles as the sting blooms.

Flipping me around to face him, my head spins. Before I can catch my breath, he leans in, mouth crashing into mine.

Everything implodes around me. Any retort I had fizzling.

It's not a gentle kiss like Myles’s. It's punishing. Desperate. As if he's been waiting days to do this and hates every second he didn’t.

Phoenix’s hands dwarf me. He touches me like he means to own every inch. Squeezing my ass, fisting my hair, gripping my jaw as his mouth takes and takes—until I forget who I was before this.

And I let him. Let him own me. Ruin me.

Moaning into him, I press closer. Sliding my arms around his neck, I arch into his body like I'm ready to let him take me right here, right now, on this dust-covered desk.

His hand slips higher under the shirt, sliding up over my ribs, until he grabs a greedy handful of my breast.

My knees nearly give out when he pinches my nipple, so I clutch at his shoulders as a whimper falls from my lips. Hungry for more, aching in every inch of my skin.

“I need to stop,” he growls against my mouth. But he’s still touching me, still kissing me.

“Please don’t,” I whisper.

Lifting my thigh to his hip, he pushes me up until I'm sittingon the edge of the desk. As his mouth trails down my jaw, to my throat, I tilt my head back to give him more.

“You don't know what you're asking for.”

“Yes, I do,” I breathe.

For a moment, it feels like he might lose himself completely. His body pressed between my legs, shirt rucked up high around my waist, his hand on my thigh creeping higher and higher…

But just as quickly, he jerks away from me.

He takes another step back as if I slapped him, chest heaving like he just woke up from a dream he wasn't supposed to have.

Frozen in place, I clutch the edge of the desk, still dazed by his bruising kiss. And just when I think he's going to walk away, his eyes find mine. And something in them shifts.