an enemy could use a hostage as leverage--and that the truest loyalty to any leader meant protecting them from the hard choices that followed.
Didn't mean Dallas wouldn't scream at him. But for now, he pressed a kiss to Lex's forehead. "They're big boys. Not your responsibility."
Her fingers brushed her throat, where her collar usually lay. "That's not exactly true anymore."
No, it wasn't. "Is that a weight you wanna carry, Lexie? You of all people know the state my shoulders are in most nights."
"Yeah, I do. Which is why I'd have to be a selfish ass to stick you with all the work."
He touched her collarbone, tracing his finger over the skin he planned to mark. Thick black ink, a design fit for a queen. The queen. "Do you trust me?"
Her eyes locked with his--for once, clear and unguarded. "Yes."
Finally.
His blood pumped fire through his veins as he splayed his fingers across her chest, his thumb canted toward one shoulder and his pinky brushing the other. She looked deceptively delicate in moments like this, small under his hand, but there was nothing fragile about the heart beating under his palm.
And it belonged to him. "Ink," he said, the word edged with all his desire. "O'Kane for life."
"For life," she echoed, covering his hand with hers.
He couldn't stop his feral grin, the triumph and satisfaction. "All of you."
"Mmm." She arched an eyebrow. "What's that look for?"
The fire in his veins settled as a burning heat in his gut, stoked higher by the mental image of Lex wearing his ink. Lex, his.
He lifted his hand to trace her lips and let his imagination run wild. She was soft and sweet, her defenses swept away. How much hotter would it be now, fucking her when she was already open and trusting? When he could show her that he didn't need an orgy to overwhelm her senses, to claim every goddamn part of her?
Still smiling, he edged one finger between her lips. "Maybe I'm not done with you for the night."
Lex closed her eyes and bit him. "I won't be able to walk tomorrow, and neither will you. You realize that, right?"
The world could survive the day without them. Bracing his thumb against her jaw, he pushed his finger deeper, savoring the sharp scrape of teeth almost as much as the quick heat of her tongue. "If you can walk before sundown, it means I didn't get the job done."
She shivered and licked his fingertip with a moan.
He couldn't stop himself from pumping his finger in and out, fascinated by the way her lips looked wrapped around any part of him. "Tonight, you're mine to play with. This mouth..." He added another finger, pushed them both in to the second knuckle. "Mine to kiss, mine to defile."
Her eyes lit up at the word, amusement and lust in equal measure. The back of her hand brushed his stomach, and she walked her fingers slowly up to scratch her nails across his chest.
Oh yeah, she liked that. Liked it even more when he withdrew his fingers, slapped her cheek in teasing warning, and smoothed his hand down her throat.
He smacked her breast next, and the firm flesh swayed enticingly. Made his dick ache, too, and his next words sounded rough. "I could play with these tits for hours. Sucking, pinching..." He tweaked her nipple just to watch her jerk. "Making them bounce."
Her skin flushed, and her breathing quickened. "Yours to play with. Whatever you want."
Three simple words, but the layers in them. A man could go dizzy trying to untangle the subtle shifts in power. He owned her the same way he owned them all, as a benevolent dictator who enforced his ownership lightly. Someone who didn't understand would think her submission solidified that claim, would think she'd yanked her own collar tight and handed him a leash.
Blind fools. Submission snapped the leash. Here she was, flushed at the sudden freedom, and he was the one weighed down by the responsibilities that came with her gift. He was the one who had to walk that razor-thin line, knowing one misstep could cut them both.
Trust went both ways, a fact that held him in its grasp as he smacked her other breast hard enough to feel the sting of impact in his fingers. He had to trust that her moan of pleasure was honest, that she wouldn't hold back or hide discomfort. All it would take was one lie on her part to turn him into a monster.