We’re almost inside the dining room when the warmth of Sin’s hand on my back disappears, only forhim to snatch me around my middle and slam me against him.
I turn to demand he let me go, but Sin is faster, taking that opportunity to nip at my neck over the spot he marked.
My breath stutters.
He licks at the mark again before whispering, “You’re angry with yourself because you like it, kitten.”
With that, he releases me, lightly pushing me to the dining room.
Any comment I want to throw back at him is swallowed by the sight of the others at the table, already eating their dinner. I throw him a glare that I hope conveys my threat of violence the moment I get him alone.
I don’t miss his answering wink, even as I dismiss him, deciding to focus on the people who don’t inspire my murderous thoughts.
Arianna has squeezed a chair next to Damien, so she’s sitting in front of my spot. Her face morphs from looking lost in her thoughts to unadulterated amusement when she sees us. “Vivian, you look a little flushed, I wonder what you two were up to.”
She says it so suggestively I flush even more, trying not to think about the bright red mark on my neck. I ignore her comment. She’s had a day, so she gets a pass.
Rosie glances my way as I take my seat next to her, but mercifully, she only grins and says nothing.
Magnus cocks his head, looking me over before his focus zeroes in on the offending mark. He doesn’tsmile but sighs before reaching over to Damien and whispering something.
Damien’s gaze locks onto my neck, and I think about how cool it would be to be moss. Just some green stuff hanging on a tree, with no mortifying moments.
Moss life sounds good right about now.
While everyone takes a turn staring at me, Sin leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. His expression is smug as he looks at Magnus and Damien, waiting for them to realize what he’s done.
Men are animals.
Territorial, testosterone-infested animals.
My cheeks feel like they might catch fire by the time Damien finally looks away to glare at Sin. Magnus grips Damien’s arm and the tension around the table skyrockets.
Except for Arianna, of course, who makes a kissy face at me.
She’s unhinged.
I try to kick her under the table.
She mouths, ‘Harder please,’ and I commit to ignoring her again.
“Really, Sin? Was it necessary to mark her?” Magnus asks, irritation bleeding into his voice.
“You had no right,” Damien spits.
Sin raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “I have the only right.”
That comment is enough to have me aiming a second kick at him. I connect, and Sin glances back at me, amused. I open my mouth to tell him he’sdelusional, but Damien speaks before I have the chance.
“She doesn’t even like you,” Damien barks out. His typical jovial, lighthearted expression is replaced by one that promises violence. “If you manipulated…” he starts but doesn’t finish the sentence.
The insinuation is there, though, and now I’m irritated with him, too. “No one mani–”
“Oh, for goodness’s sake,” Rosie chirps, cutting me off. “Men are so oblivious it hurts.”
That comment right there is why she is my favorite.
“My partner. My protection. My mark,” Sin growls.
