He was moving closer to the door, closer to the woman he hungered for with an irrational strength.
Reaching the door to the suite he keyed in the code to the security lock, waited for the click to indicate the locks had disengaged, then stepped inside.
The other side of black ice.
The second he closed the door it kicked in.
The black ice was cracking and burning inside him, heat whipping through his body as fiery, burning lust sizzled through the dark emotionless protective layer.
In a single, blinding second the adrenaline switched gears. Murder wasn’t an option, but sex was.
He couldn’t squeeze the life from Azir’s corrupt body, but he could allow Paige’s tight, hot little pu**y to squeeze the release from his dick.
Paige was there.
Lush.
Exotic.
Sensual.
With the sheet still her only covering, she was curled at the corner of the couch as Tariq sat in the chair opposite her. He leaned forward, his entire demeanor protective.
Long, silken, red-gold curls cascaded around the bruised side of her face. The abraded, darkening flesh almost had him turning around and completing the murderous act, imagining Azir gasping for air as his eyes began to glaze in death.
Emerald green eyes stared back at him in defiance, and always, always, in hunger. In that inp height="t, just that fast, his c**k was brutally hard, the need to f**k thundering through his body with a force nearly double what the drive to kill had been.
This was the fallout. The other side of the brutal ice-encased fury was this overwhelming, desperate need to push every sexual boundary. To make his lover touch that point between pleasure and pain. To f**k her until none of them could move. And once his third had caught his breath, to begin again.
And there was Paige. The object of every sexual fantasy he’d had since she had turned eighteen. The one woman he knew he should never touch.
He was going to touch her.
He was going to touch her in ways that would shock her, that would send her juices spilling hot and sweet from the swollen folds of her cunt.
“Abram?” Tariq rose warily to his feet. “Is the situation being resolved?”
Will Paige be sent home? Abram could see the question in the other man’s gaze. The worry and the concern. Oh yes, they both knew what Azir was doing, and they were going to have to figure out a way to put a stop to it.
“I may need a third,” Abram answered, his gaze on Paige as her eyes widened in shock.
She knew what he meant, and she knew exactly what he was going to need.
She didn’t protest though, and she didn’t argue, she just stared back at him, wide-eyed and silent.
And hungry.
Oh hell yes, he glimpsed the sensual, sexual need that darkened her eyes and flushed her face and br**sts.
They had been dancing around this since the day she turned eighteen. He had stayed as far away from her as possible rather than introducing her to a hunger, a passion that he feared she wasn’t ready for. And now, there was simply no way to save her from it.
“Leave,” he ordered Tariq, his tone guttural.
It was an order Tariq was expecting. Abram was going to need a third, but this first time, this first touch, was all his. He shared his lovers, but still, he was a possessive bastard. He secured their affection as well as their arousal before he ever brought his third into the bed.
He waited, listening as Tariq strode across the room, opened the door, and stepped out.
He would be going no farther than his own room across the stone hall in case he was needed.