“How long we have to wait for the biting Maverick was talking about?” I hissed as he started licking behind my ear.
“It’s completely up to the two of you,” Briar replied.
“So, if I say bite me…” I asked, wishing I could see his face, but damn could I feel him chuckling.
“You can’t say it,” Maverick explained in between kissing along my jaw. “You have to demand it.”
I thought about opening my mouth to do just that, when it dawned on me what Maverick meant. Briar needed us wound up first, so wound up that when he did sink his teeth in, it would be all pleasure we experienced, and no pain.
“Got it,” I muttered, sighing as Briar lightly scraped a tooth over my skin.
It felt different, sharper. I realized then that he wasn’t talking typical love bites, that was a fang I felt, wicked and razor sharp. It hit me then that the kind of messy they were referring to was going to involve blood as well as cum.
Was I down for that?
I waited for red flags to start waving behind my eyes as I melted into another of Maverick’s kisses, but all I heard was the voice in my head screaminggo, go, go.
Then I smelled it.
A mix of sweet and spicy that enveloped me.
Curiosity gripped me and I slid a hand under Maverick’s shirt to feel the warmth of his skin, silky smooth beneath my palm. As soon as I traced a fingertip over his side, he sucked in a breath, shuddered, then started giggling.
“Oh really?” I muttered. “Is some kitty ticklish.”
Instead of waiting for him to answer, I did it again, getting all my fingers involved. The response was instantaneous. Gasping, he squirmed, giggles turning to laughter as he tried to escape my clutches, not that I intended to let him.
“Some kitty is very ticklish,” Briar concurred, not that his confirmation was needed with all the laughter spilling from Maverick, along with more of that sweet, delicious scent.
The spicy came from Briar, when he slid his arms around me and tugged me away from our writhing mate. “Is tickling him really how you want to spend your night?”
“Depends,” I asked, tipping my head back to gaze up at him.
“On what?” he asked, lips inches away from mine.
“If it helps me get his clothes off him so I can tickle him with my tongue.”
“Hmmm,” he murmured, before treating me to a searing kiss.
Reaching up, I caught a handful of his hair and gave a gentle tug, only to feel him grow harder where his cock was pressed against my backside. I should have known he’d find a way to retaliate, drawing a whine from me when his hand slid over my abs, then higher, to pinch a nipple and twist until I whined.
“I’ll let you tickle him with your tongue, for a price,” he growled when he broke the kiss.
“H-how much?”
“Your clothes. All of them.”
“Deal.”
“Can I make a deal too?” Maverick asked, the glow of the fire making the ends of his long, pale hair shimmer.
“And what kind of deal would you like to make?” I asked as I reached for the hem of my shirt and pulled it off over my head.
“Whoever comes last gets to watch the other get claimed,” Maverick said, the tricky bastard.
Puffing up, I put my hands on my hips and stared at him. “What kind of a deal is that? Now I don’t know if I’m supposed to do my best to get you off first, or torment you and refuse to let you come.”
“I know, right, isn’t it the best deal ever?”
