I pull back, breathless from our kiss. “Are you still mine?”
 
 His lips part, but his teeth are clenched shut, still grasping for straws.
 
 “Say it.”
 
 “…Yes, Sergeant,” he grinds out.
 
 I growl, gripping the back of his neck and press my forehead to his. He knows I fucking hate when he calls me that. “Then act like it,” I warn, voice low.
 
 I press in slow, deliberate, letting him feel every inch of me. Because I want him to feel it. I need him to remember. To show me there’s still hope for this group. For us. Forme.
 
 “You've been acting like a fucking animal,” I murmur into his ear as his eyes fall closed. “Picking fights, marking territory that doesn't belong to you.”
 
 His eyes snap open and I hear the sound of my shirt ripping. “You think it belongs toyou?” His voice escalates again.
 
 “I think you forgot who taught you how to mark in the first place,” I smirk as I press into him, feeling the heat of his bare chest against mine through the tear in my shirt.
 
 Grabbing his jaw, I see how his eyes blaze like he wants to murder me… or fuck me blind. I can't tell which one wins. But when I slam my mouth to his again, he opens for me like he always fucking does.
 
 Raw. Starved. Furious.
 
 He groans when my palm slides down, over the hard lines of his abs, into the waistband of his pants, finding his thick cock.
 
 My own twitches as I stroke his, feeling the piercings as my fingers run over the length of him. Lust attempting to cloud my mind. But this isn't purely about lust. This is a fuckingreminder.
 
 “You've been walking around like king and commander,” I breathe against his mouth. “But you belong to me, Myles. You begged me to own you, and you love the way I do.”
 
 His hips buck into my hand as he curses, breath ragged.
 
 “You gonna tell me that’s not true?”
 
 His head tips back against the wall, throat bared. “No,” he says breathlessly.
 
 “You gonna pretend you don't want this?”
 
 “…No.”
 
 “Good boy.”
 
 Leaning in, I press my mouth to his throat, just below his jaw. “It’s time you learned to share your toys,” I whisper.
 
 Myles shudders.
 
 Brattiness leaving his body in waves.
 
 It’sbeen so long since I felt him under me, and that little minx, Ivy, has me wound tight.
 
 Who better than to take it out on than the one who threw her amongst us like meat to starving wolves.
 
 She would shatter under this. Myles can take it.
 
 Grabbing the back of his neck, I shove him into the table, weapons falling off as his thighs collide with it.
 
 “Bend,” I command.
 
 He finally submits without protest, his palms spreading across the wood, bending at the waist. Submitting, in the way only Myles knows how… with fury in his chest.
 
 Stepping up behind him, I unbuckle my belt before yanking his pants down enough to expose what I need. I snap my belt across his ass for good measure. His head lifts off the table as he hisses at the sting.