“I hated him. I hated her for letting him touch her. And I hated myself most of all—because I couldn’t stop.”
Her scent was a weapon.
It wrapped around me, hot and sweet, every breath stoking the fire under my skin until my control snapped like dry kindling.
She was still trembling, still flushed from the last time she’d come apart in our hands, and every part of me screamed to take her away, lock her in my bed, and never let another male near her again.
But Ronan was still here.
And gods help me… I didn’t shove him away.
He was behind her, his hands on her hips, his mouth at her neck, while I stood in front of her—our mate caught between us, eyes half-lidded, lips parted, every inch of her begging for more. I could smell her heat, taste it in the air, feel it through the bond like a
