Not with his cock in her tight, wet pussy.
Not with his fingers pulling sounds from her body that were meant foronlyme.
The idea made my vision haze over.
Made my pulse roar in my ears.
Made me want to drag Hiro outside, slam his back against the nearest wall, and remind him that while we were still brothers—we were no longer the same men.
Not when it came toher.
My Tiger.
The woman who walked into my war room and made every man forget his place. The woman who smelled like the scent that’s haunted my body since childhood—black amber and ripe plum.
The idea of Hiro touching her—even in jest—was not brotherhood.
It was betrayal.
My jaw flexed again.
I didn’t even realize I was gripping the edge of the desk until a loud crack split beneath my hand—subtle, but real. A little bit of the wood was fractured.
My palm throbbed.
I kept my face calm.
Neutral.
And this time when her eyes swept over the room, they met mine and my heart kicked like a fucking traitor.
I didn’t move, but I felt a jolt of desire in my throat.
Yeah. I could never share her.
Finally, Nyomi approached us and Hiro whispered in my ear, “If this room were a battlefield, yourTigerwould have already won. So far, I’ve counted thirty erections, seven minor heart attacks, and absolutely no survivors.”
I shifted again, slower this time. Any harder, and the zipper would tear. Any closer, and I might rip apart too.
I didn’t have to see it to know Hiro was smirking beside me. I also knew that the Fangs, Claws, and Scales were no longer focused on their weapons, missions, screens, and maps.
They were watching her.
Watching me.
And waiting for the Dragon to move.
She stopped four feet in front of me.
Thank God.
One more step and the last thread of restraint I’d wrapped around my cock would’ve snapped.
She didn’t even look at me yet.
But I was already fucking her.
In my mind.
