EMBER’S POV
Music drifts through the safehouse.
Something old, jazz maybe, a woman’s voice curling through static, crooning about love and loss and wanting things she can’t have.
I follow the sound down the narrow hallway, my bare feet cold against marbles, Knox’s shirt hanging to my thighs and my body deliciously sore in ways that make me flush just thinking about.
Last night.
Goddess, last night.
I can still feel him everywhere. The bruises on my hips where his fingers dug in while he f****d me against the wall, making Gale watch every second.
The ache between my thighs from how intense he made me come, relentless and savage and so filthy. The rawness in my throat from screaming his name.
It should feel wrong. f*****g the man I’m falling for while my asshole ex watched from three
