“I—” He shook his head. “I won’t yield.”
I let the corner of my mouth curve into a smug grin. “We’ll see.”
His lips parted with a quiet gasp before he schooled his features. And I flicked my gaze over his clothes before turning back to Quinn.
“Lose those.”
Rustling confirmed he’d heeded the order and begun to shed his clothes. But he had to follow all the rules if he wanted to join us on the bed.
My rules.
Over my shoulder, Kingston worked another button open on his shirt, his head popping up as soon as I cleared my throat. I gave him the same arched brow Quinn had earned.
His eyebrows rose, a slight bite in his tone as he said, “Yes,sir.”
Hm. I’d have to deal with the brat in him later, if this became a regular occurrence.
Which, from the flush creeping over Quinn’s cheeks, neck, and chest, I suspected it would.
I sat beside her on the bed, stroking my hand over her thigh. Running it along her side and brushing the sensitive spot on her ribs. Her scars were sensitive, but I’d gauged how to draw out the right response.
How one caress sent a shiver down her spine. How another tightened her core. And drew out a moan from her red lips.
Responsive. So perfectly responsive to every single touch. I’d learned what each one of mine did to her.
And I took my time, simmering the building ache between her legs. Watching her features shift, the way she drew her lip between her teeth, still unable to tear her eyes away from him.
From us.
I dipped my fingers inside her, groaning at the silky wetness and tight hold as she tightened around me. Each glide heightened her arousal. Each retreat lifted her hips.
And when she was getting close, she begged me with her eyes. “Please, sir. May I come?”
“Not yet.” I withdrew my hand.
She cried out.
I rose from the bed and faced Kingston, who’d been waiting patiently, standing with his spine straight as an arrow. His lean muscular frame commanding even in submission. Tall.
And proud.
With his hands clasped behind his back, he made no attempt to hide his body. His cock straining toward her. Twitching as she moaned in protest.
While I stalked over to him.
I circled him once with an assessing eye, as if appraising his suitability for what I planned to offer him, and though his jaw tightened under my scrutiny, he stood through it without a word. As if he wanted my approval.
Wanted me to deem him worthy.
For her.
Standing behind him, I met her eyes over his right shoulder. Her heavy-lidded gaze drank in the sight of both of us. Thighs clenched, her mouth parted, she darted her tongue out to wet her lips.
My cock jerked in my pants, tapping my fly, and the painful throb as it swelled forced a quick readjustment.
When my knuckles accidentally grazed his side, that brief moment of contact sparked. Like a match across a red-bricked wall, it flared to life, burning with intensity. Shedding light on a memory trapped inside my mind.
With vivid clarity, blue-gray eyes found me in the darkness, and Ifelthis hand as it clutched mine.
