Page 62 of Envy

“He doesn’t get you,”he murmurs between kisses.

“I get you. I want you. I need you. I’ll save you, Rose.”

His words are a promise. A plea. A curse.

“What’s it going to take, huh?”

His breath is ragged. His hands shake with restraint.

“For you to see it?”

I can’t think.

I can’t think when he’s like this—dark, feral, unhinged. When he presses his cock against me, rolling his hips so I feel exactly how hard he is. “What about—”I start, but he cuts me off.

“I’m not with her. I’m not with anyone. Can’t you see, Rose?” His voice is wrecked. Desperate. “I can’t be with anyone else. I can’t come with anyone else.” He bends his knees, grinding against me. “Feel that…my little Darkthorn. His dick is big and hard pushing between my black leggings. The rubbing my clit. “Fucking feel that?”

My head spins.

“I have to beat you out of my dick knowing you’re sleeping in my bed every night.” He presses harder. I ache. “Do you know what that’s like?”

My body wants him but my mind doesn’t understand logic. It only understands him and his words. “I want to fuck you, but I can’t. Not until you want me. Not until you say yes. Because I can’t hurt you, Rose. I’ll die…I’ll die knowing you’re not breathing.”

I don’t stand a chance. I know it now. I’m falling for him.

Garret driveslike a madman through the streets of Kenyan, his grip tight on the wheel, the low growl of the sports car vibrating through my bones. He doesn’t speak. Not once.

When we reach the house, the doors swing up, and he’s rounding the car before I even unbuckle. His hands find me, lifting me effortlessly as if my hesitation doesn’t exist.

Azriel assured him Amy would make it back to the dorms. I wasn’t worried. Azriel, despite being a son of Kenyan, has a heart. He wouldn’t hurt Amy. But I don’t trust him with her heart.

Garret makes a sound of frustration at my sluggish pace and picks me up, carrying me through the threshold and straight to his bedroom. I don’t have time to think. I barely have time to breathe. He sets me down on the bed, stepping back only long enough to pull his shirt over his head.

My mouth goes dry.

He’s perfect. The hard planes of his muscles flex beneath inked skin, each tattoo an untold story. Thorns curl over his heart, inked deep. Dark and possessive.

His gaze locks onto mine .“Tell me,” he rasps, voice rough with want. “Is this okay?”

He’s asking for permission. Tears sting my eyes.

His expression tightens when he sees them. “Don’t cry, Rose. I’ll stop.”

I shake my head, pressing my lips together to keep my emotions in check. “No, please. Don’t,” I whisper. “I’m just… happy.”

His brows furrow slightly, as if he’s trying to decipher whether he’s hearing me correctly. “Are you sure?”

I nod, breath hitching.

His jaw flexes, shadows darkening his features. “I’m not gentle, Rose. It’s why I’ve tried to stay away. I’ve tried to keep my distance, but once you say yes…” His voice drops, guttural. Dangerous. “I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to fuck every man from your memory.”

Shame burns through me at his words. The memories—the past I can never erase.

“I know how you got your tattoo.”

My breath falters. The pieces click together. That’s why he changed.

His hands slide up my thighs, his thumb pressing against my clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure through my body. His tongue darts out between his lips, wetting them as he watches me.

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