when Noelle made an angry noise and reached for them. Before she could open her mouth, Dallas jabbed a finger at Jasper. "You keep your woman out of shit that doesn't concern her."
Jasper locked an arm around her and pulled her back. "Not our thing, remember?" he whispered. "Theirs."
"That's right, baby girl. This is me and Dallas." Lex pushed up into his grip, challenging him not only with her movements but with a bold stare. If he didn't pull back, she'd end up grinding bruises into her own skin, forcing him to leave the mark of his hand around her throat.
No winning there. He loathed the idea of leaving marks on her flesh that weren't purposeful and planned. But the only other choice was retreat, and he didn't know if he could back down with her staring at him. Daring him. She'd get what she wanted one way or another...and maybe that wasn't a bad thing. Not with all he was about to take.
He gave her the lingering victory and locked his arm. He didn't need to tighten his fingers, not with her shoving up into his hand. If she wanted bruises, she'd get them.
After too many long moments, she relented, easing back to gasp for breath. The delicate skin of her throat was red, but she acted as though he'd answered a question. "The collar better not be one you've put on anyone else."
He smoothed his thumb over her ravaged skin. "Look at you, jumping to conclusions. You knew what would come of this tattoo, didn't you?"
"Am I wrong?"
"No. Am I?"
But she wouldn't give in, not that much. She averted her eyes. "Your boy's back."
Bren must have run and taken the stairs three at a time to get to Dallas's office and back so quickly. But he wasn't out of breath, and his expression remained calm as he held out the collar. Dallas accepted it with absent thanks and held it up.
It was some damn expensive custom work, made from smooth, supple leather. Flat at the back, it split into four narrow cords on each side, the top and bottom lengths forming a frame for the pieces woven in and out of sterling silver Celtic knots. And at the front, carved with amazing precision, the O'Kane logo, situated where it would nestle in the hollow of her throat.
A far cry from the plain black leather he'd buckled around women's throats in the past, and Lex would know it.
She swallowed hard and met his gaze. Waiting.
No one interfered. No one would, and that made him move slowly. He swept her hair aside, twisting it around his hand and then up. "Hold this, love."
She kept her eyes locked on his as she braced her hands on the cushion and crept out from under him just far enough to sit. She lifted her hands, fingers sliding over his as she took over holding up the mass of her hair.
He'd seen that look in her eyes. The one that said he'd pushed her past fear or anger into driving, vengeful lust. Never before had he taken what that look offered. Blowjobs and spankings were good clean fun, but he didn't fuck a woman he had to share. Not even Lex.
If he wrapped this scrap of leather around her throat, he wouldn't have to share her--and if he dwelled on that, his hands would shake before he got it fastened. Still moving carefully, he laid the etched centerpiece against the hollow of her throat and admired it for a moment before fastening the collar.
"How does it look?" she asked--low, breathless.
He told her the truth. "Beautiful."
She glanced around, taking note of all the rapt stares, and her voice dropped even lower. "What now?"
Dallas smoothed her dress down before rising to offer the silent crowd a lazy smile. He held out one hand and waited for Lex to take it. She was still wary, unsure of what she'd gotten herself into.
Good. He wouldn't be the only one, he'd just hide it better. He tugged her to her feet and draped an arm over her shoulder. "Now we let Jasper and Noelle have their moment back."
"I don't think it'll matter. Noelle wants your blood." Lex shook her head. "I'll have to talk to her. Later."
A glance at Noelle proved the truth of that. She didn't look like a soft little city girl now. With ink around her throat and her eyes burning with protective anger, she looked like an O'Kane, one who might not be satisfied with