“Did you fuck her?”
“Hell, no!”
The smug grin Cyn sported made him wish he was allowed to upend her over his knee. She’d likely claw his eyes out if he tried. He rather wanted to try.
“He didn’t screw me, no. Well…” She stuck out her tongue tip, rocking her head as she contemplated him. “Not that I recall? I would hope I’d recall that.”
“Oh shit.” Vargr swiped his hand down his face, glared at her. “Did you know he fed you his come?”
“Uhhh, no.” Her eyebrow spiked upward. “I missed that? Sheesh. If you two are planning to fight, I’ll be the referee. Look, this is not a problem. Rutger said he was helping me.” She let her ass waggle to and fro, cheekily, as she spoke.
With those tentacle leggings on, it made way more than his eyebrows rise up. His dick was joining in. Was she attempting to soothe them or stir them more?
Rutger chortled then folded his arms. “She’s your bondmate. Deal with her.”
“Later, I will.”
“I doubt that.” Her grin stayed.
Oh boy.“If you need help holding her down?—”
“Do youwantme to punch you?” Strangely, after looking at them both, several times, Vargr had wound down his anger a notch or three. “You fed her come? And it worked? It fucking shouldn’t have.”
Should he put forward his theory?
“It is possible that some might be able to have two bondmates.”
Vargr went very still.
“Ignore me.” He cleared his throat. “Just a theory.”
The swish-swish and lub-dub of his heart and blood were playing interference in his temples, and he had to consciously untighten his muscles. Nothing to do here. No fight needed.
For once Cyn remained silent, and he could almost see her figuring the angles. Or had she already done that? When he was near her, it was impossible not to notice her perky nipples elevating the fabric of her heavy-metal-inspired T-shirt.
Her jacket had gone missing after the fight.And thank you whoever you are for organizing that.It never felt right to thank any lord above anymore.
“Fuck the apocalypse,” he murmured.
“What?” Vargr woke from his perplexed, what-the-fuck reverie.
“Nothing. What I did, I did out of concern for her…” Should he say this? His natural diplomacy, if he had any, had run away. “To be honest, also because I feel far more attraction to her than I should. I know you’re bondmated. I respect that. I’d never tear apart that law on a whim. And I didn’t. I didn’t fuck her. I fixed her enough until you returned. That it apparently worked—I think logic tells us it worked for a reason.” The fury in Vargr’s glare heightened. “If you’d gotten killed, I’d happily have taken your place, but that’s not relevant, unless you have another death mission in mind?
“Now, I’m moving on. It’s dangerous outside the tribe for us, all of us.”
Then he turned his back on the two of them. It was the only way he could think of to defuse what he’d just done. His fault. He should’ve held his tongue, and having Cyn take pleasure in them squaring off only made everything more dangerous. He then stopped, struck by a piece of concern that niggled.
He addressed Vargr. “Hey. Don’t let her look in any of the prams here. Okay?”
“Sure.” The beaster nodded, and he saw the man understood why.
“Good.” His heart eased a little, and he walked away, passing Little Mo where it waited in shadow.
If a pin dropped behind him, he didn’t hear it. Neither of them was about to follow him immediately. He kept going. They were adults, and he was not bondmated with Cyn, or not so anyone could recognize. Not yet.
Curiosity eventually won out, and he looked back. They hadn’t followed him yet, and Vargr was talking to Cyn. She looked small beside him, even with his wings folded in. Her hands were clasped before her as if she were a penitent nun, which was a total switch in attitude.
Vargr approached her, crowding her into a shop wall, pressing her against it with the full length of his body and his hands on her at hip and collar, and he kissed her for a very long time. Started out rough and ended up sweet, as far as he could tell.
