I watched in horror and fascination as Ivy’s long leg slipped between his from behind. She curved a sinuous arm around his chest so that her fingertips played with the base of his neck. Tilting her head, she sent her lips to mouth his ear. And while DeLavine looked at me with Ivy bringing his hunger fully awake, she whispered, “Please?”

My blood pounded as she put her teeth on his ear and tugged. “I’m fond of her….” she added. “I want to keep her the way she is.”

DeLavine took his eyes from me, and I felt the tears start, even as the vampire pheromones and watching them play whipped my libido high. This was so wrong.

Ivy flowed around him to get between us. Standing with her legs wide, she ran her hands over him between his suit coat and shirt. She threw her head back, and a laugh of delight came from her, shocking me. “I can feel your scars!” she giggled, turning it into a soft, desire-filled sound of deviltry at the end. She was Ivy, but she wasn’t. Playful, sensual, and domineering, this was a side of her she hadn’t wanted to show me. This was Ivy doing what she did best.

Both captivated and repulsed, I couldn’t look away as she bent her lips to his neck and his eyes closed. He exhaled, his hands trembling as he grasped her wrists and held them down.

“Tonight?” Ivy whispered, loud enough for me to hear. And DeLavine opened his eyes, smiling wickedly as he met my gaze.

“Bring her.”

“Alone,” she countered, pulling her hands from his grip to explore his inner thigh. “What I want to do would kill her.” She laughed, ending with an eager moan. The playful sound of desire turned my stomach. This was probably what she had been in those years she wouldn’t talk about, and she was returning to it to keep me safe.

God, how did I get to this place where my friends sell themselves to keep me alive?

Ivy shifted, doing something I couldn’t see to make DeLavine’s eyes widen. Peter hissed, and I wasn’t surprised to find a jealous, sullen expression on his face. The woman behind him was running her fingers over him in distraction, but it didn’t appear to be helping.

“Innocence can be exhilarating,” Ivy murmured. “But experience? There’s a reason Piscary indulges me,” she said, the syllables as certain and warm as summer rain to make my pulse quicken. “Would you like to know … why? Not many do.”

DeLavine smiled. “Piscary will not be pleased.”

“Piscary is in prison,” she said, pouting. “And I’m lonely.”