She doesn’t answer, the stubborn witch, but when I use my wet thumb to breach the tight ring of her ass, she yells out.
“It’s yours, Priest. Yours and Bates’s and Saint’s.”
“Good girl, Reign, now was that really so difficult? You’re so damn feisty. You like fighting me, huh? Does it turn you on?”
“Mmm...” she mumbles, which I take as her agreement.
I wrap my fist in her hair and pull until she is forced to get up, on her knees. But even then, I keep ahold of her until we are both upright, her back to my chest with my cock still deep inside her.
“Tell me, Reign, how rough can you take it?” I growl in her ear. Fuck sweet. I want to thrust so far inside her she can feel me in her throat.
“Show me what you’ve got,” she purrs back.
Releasing her hair, I slip my hand around her throat and squeeze, just enough to let her know I have control but not enough to restrict her breathing. Yet.
I allow her to angle her head just enough to the side that she can see me before I pull my cock out to the tip and thrust inside her so hard that my hand on her throat is the only thing stopping her from toppling forward
I smirk. “Be careful what you wish for, Trouble.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Reign
Priest’s words are the only warning I get before he hammers into me. His eyes never leave mine as his grip on my throat tightens. His movements never falter even as he speeds up, and I sense him getting closer.
“Touch yourself, Reign. I want to feel you ripple around my cock as you milk me dry.”
His words send a pulse straight to my clit. I reach down through my slick folds and do as he asks, swirling a finger over the sensitive nub. I’m so close to the edge, wavering on the brink as I desperately try to wait for him to fall with me.
“Come,” he orders, knowing how close I am. I refuse, wanting him to go with me. So I ignore him, swirling my clit as I try to hold out.
“Fuck. Come,” he roars, tightening his grip on my throat so I can’t breathe.
He’s impossible to ignore any longer. The sweet threat of punishment mixed with the wicked bite of pain as he bites down on the juncture where my shoulder meets my neck doesn’t just push me over the edge, it picks me up and drags me down into oblivion.
I must blackout for a minute because when I open my eyes again, I’m lying in Priest’s arms once more, my head tucked under his chin, as the cold air of the room licks at my sweat-soaked skin.
“I think I need another shower,” I croak out, surprised by my husky voice, but Jesus, I’ve never experienced anything quite like that before.
His laughter washes over me, the intensity of the situation lighter now somehow.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me for fucking you. Although that being said, it doesn’t hurt my ego at all when a pretty little sex kitten wants to sing my praises from the rooftop.”
“Whatever you say, big guy.” I pat his chest and pull back so I can look up at him. “But I don’t think you need your ego-stroked. Trust me when I tell you, your ego is plenty big enough as it is.”
“Mm... perhaps I need to show you again how big my ego is so you don’t forget,” he mumbles before rolling me onto my back and climbing between my legs once more.
When we emerge from our sex nest later, the clubhouse is far busier, and there is no sign of Tate.
I sigh, unsure if I’m glad about that or disappointed.
Hands on my hips have me turning to find Saint behind me, his eyes moving over my face, down to my neck and the faint imprint of fingermarks there before a smile plays at the corner of his lips.
“Feeling better?” he asks softly.
I nod. Mentally, I do. Physically, I’m walking a little gingerly. I’m pretty sure the guys around here are drinking some kind of miracle penis grower.
“I’m not gonna lie, I was pissed you guys kept shit from me, but after Priest calmed me down, I realized I wasn’t being fair to you. I forget with how intense things are between the four of us, that we still hardly know each other. I’ve decided to cut you all some slack, but