Sebastian's hands fisted in the sheets, knuckles white.
He didn't respond—couldn't.
The sight of Bella impaled on Ross, moaning so freely, coming apart in ways she never had with him… it carved something deep and bleeding inside his chest.
Ross shrugged off the warning like it was nothing.
With deliberate slowness, he reached up and pushed back the hood he'd worn constantly since joining their group—dark fabric that had always shadowed his features, keeping his face a mystery.
The dim torch light caught on sharp, handsome lines: high cheekbones, a strong jaw dusted with stubble, full lips curved in that infuriating half-smile.
His eyes were a piercing gray, framed by dark lashes, and they held a predatory gleam as they locked onto Bella.
He was devastatingly beautiful—dangerously so—and for a split second, even Sebastian forgot to breathe.
Then Ross leaned up, muscles flexing under his shirt as he closed the distance to Bella's chest.
