“But you would for us.” She patted the backrest, the cream upholstery as bright as a summer day. “You know, bend over this couch?”
Apparently, last night’s lesson had not been sufficient for her to learn her place. Perhaps another public fucking was in order.
I gripped her knees, the material of her leggings as soft as her. “I may consider it.” Prying her legs apart, I reveled in her sharp intake of breath, wishing I could roll in it. “You sitting on my face so I can drink the juices gushing out of your pussy while Zion moves inside me does sound appetizing.”
Another little gasp fled her, accompanying the flush blooming above her breasts.
“But”—I stroked up the inside of her thighs, marveling at how she battled herself to remain composed—“you will need to work for it. Show me that you can bite your tongue and follow orders, and I will allow you to come instead of leaving you hanging. You saw how Zion suffered last night. Do you want the same to happen to you?”
She gulped.
I brushed my knuckles over the fire licking her cheeks. “Beautiful.”
She cleared her throat. “How long do you plan to make Zion wait? He’s more than willing to offer his butt for you.”
I swiped the cotton ball down the column of her neck, over the scattered cuts. “I like to see him squirming.”
She sighed. “I don’t know why we like you,” she grumbled, scratching the crown of her head?—
Her eyebrows furrowed. Slowly lowering her hand, she stared at the red flakes stuck to her nails.
My blood ran cold.
“Are you bleeding?” I took her head, twisting and turning, searching for the injury. “Where? Where is it coming from? Where does it hurt?”
“Gedeon.” She swatted my hands away, her slaps furious. “I’m okay. I think it might be tomato paste,” she said, sniffing the scarlet bits and flicking the flakes away with her nails. “There was a jar of it on the shelf. It probably shattered.”
My heart restarted, its beats dependent on her well-being. If her skull had been fractured… I gathered saliva in my mouth to counteract the desert that had built its nest there.
“Do not stop me from taking care of you again,” I ground out as I exchanged the dirty cotton ball for a clean one. “Or I will tie you to the bed next time. Am I clear?”
Her eyes narrowed.
My lip corners curled up.
A huff deflated her chest. “Fine.” She drew the fallen strap of her dark top back up her shoulder. “But you have to promise to do the same.”
“Deal, little?—”
The hinges creaked as the entrance door opened, the broken lock doing aterrificjob of protecting us from outsiders.
The cadence of footfalls told me it was Zion. Only, his steps were not the reason my instincts blared, yanking on the ropes of all alarm bells.
It was the fact he had returned too soon.
“Is everything okay?” Kali asked Zion as he hovered in the doorway, the sweatpants hanging on his hips as low as the temperature was in the room.
The seriousness as rare as rain in summer in his expression drenched me in dread. My voice thick, I asked, “What is it?”
“I ran into Damia on my way.” He ran a hand through his hair, tugging the ends. Finally, after seconds had stretched into hours, he met my eyes. “There is something you need to see.”
51
KALI
Gravel slowed our march to the three-story dwelling, the blocks of fresh ivory paint a stark contrast to the exposed maroon bricks.
Warm light bathed Damia holding the door open for us to pass. “Upstairs.”
