“Her tails are quivering.”
“Trust me, that’s a good sign.”
Ume huffed. “She’s still in the room. She can hear you.”
Sinner pulled her into his arms. “Also a good sign.”
He kissed her, and she instantly melted into him. Had they kissed before? Had she ever been kissed before? If she had, this was more. This was better. He tasted like hers.
Her warrior pulled his lips away from hers and looked into her eyes, something vulnerable and unsure in his expression. Confused. Why was he confused? It was wonderful.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and tried to pull him closer, but he resisted.
“Ready to play?”
“Huh?”
Ume turned to glance at Manx when he chuckled. Her jaw dropped. He was naked. Completely, utterly naked. “You do have tattoos everywhere.”
Manx winked. “I knew you were wondering.”
She was so busy staring at one fascinating design growing before her eyes, that it took a moment to register the rope. “What the hell are you doing?”
“We are tying you up, Ume. Right now just your wrists, we’ll see about what comes later.”
“Sinner?”
He smiled, but there was a strange spark in his eyes. “Let go, Ume. Trust me.”
She already did. It scared her how much.
She trusted him. Why did that knowledge scare him? Wasn’t it exactly what he wanted? The problem was, Saint didn’t trust himself.
Watching Manx bind her wrists already had the demon in him raging to be set free. To take. To fuck. But Saint wanted more than that. He wanted to give her more pleasure than she’d ever imagined. So much that when she finally realized who and what he was, it wouldn’t matter. Nothing would matter but this.
While he still had some semblance of control he connected to his partner in crime. Like opening a private chatroom in his brain that only they could see.
“I can’t share her the way we have the others.”
Manx responded instantly.
“I had that feeling. You know I’ve always been a breast man…”
Saint nodded sharply. He would be the one to give her all that mattered. The pleasurable pain, the sweet sting that he knew instinctively she would love. It would surprise her how much.
His skin was burning, every muscle stretched tight, determined to hold on to the control he knew he’d need for this. Not just touching her. But watching her respond to someone else. It would be torture.
He couldn’t wait.
He pulled her long, dark hair over one shoulder to whisper in her ear. “Have you ever been spanked, Ume?”
She made a noise that sounded decidedly like a squeak, and he laughed. “I’ll take that as a no. It surprises me. A bad girl like you. Wild and bold. It surprises me that no one has tried.”
He flexed his muscles and gripped the fabric covering her with his bare hands, making short work of its removal. By the time all but one piece was gone, Ume was shaking.
“Oh my God.”
Saint ground his jaw together as he removed that blasted thong, leaving her bare and open to their view. “Not even close, love.”