the man’s mouth for a heated kiss, playing with his tongue. When Niall groaned against the bite of that cock ring, Evan gave him a prick of his fangs. Niall let out a soft curse as blood bloomed on his gum. Blood Evan teased away with his tongue.
“I’m going to have a willing sub lubricate your fine ass,” Evan murmured against his mouth. “Then I’ll put your kilt back on you. When I finally release you from this cross, I’m going to put you down on the ground, push your kilt up to your waist like a girl’s skirt and take you hard and fast. You’ll spend yourself in the grass.”
You’re spoiling for a fight, then.
One you know I’ll win.
He would of course, but Niall would give the audience quite a show with his resistance, no matter how tired he was. After so many years, the Scot never stopped trying. It fascinated Evan.
That dragon gleaming on Niall’s abraded flesh would always be there because of Evan’s blood. He abandoned the banter, clasping Niall’s beautiful cock hard.
You’re mine, neshama. Every beautiful inch of you.
Through Niall’s eyes, Evan could see Alanna staring at that dragon as he finished the story. She’d been tracing it with more ice, but at some point, her hand had stilled. The two fingers holding the cube were stationary, but her other digits were doing curious little flutters around it. An involuntary tell, a burning desire to touch without the ice’s interference. Niall’s hand covered hers, brought it to his mouth. Taking the nearly melted ice cube into it, as well as her two cold fingers, he warmed them in the heat, pulling her over his chest so she was lying upon him. He cupped her head, fingers tangling in her hair, thumb passing over her mouth.
Her gaze darkened. Desire radiated from her. If she’d been wearing panties, they would have been soaked. As it was, her honey had made her inner thighs slippery. Her hard nipples pressed against Niall’s chest, but there was a dark gloom in the center of her mind, a place of uncertainty.
Evan held back the knowledge, not wanting to interrupt Niall’s forward progress. The Scot had excellent intuition. He didn’t kiss her . . . smart man. Instead he slid his other hand under her T-shirt in the back, released the clasp of the bra. She was still as a baby bird in his hands, staring at him, breath shallow.
He found her breast under the loosened undergarment, cupped the soft curve. As he let out a pleased sound, he investigated the weight and shape of her, his thumb passing over the nipple in a slow, easy stroke. Then a quick flick that made her jump, a tiny noise catching in her tight throat.
“Easy there, lass.” Sliding the hand back down her waist, he palmed her ass, and maneuvered her so her thighs were straddling one of his, her hip bone pressing into his cock. “Sit up and take the bra all the way off. Show me the way you look beneath the T-shirt without it.”
Good man. He’d commanded her. She complied, still moving in that trancelike way. Evan, lying in his bed beneath the earth, was tempted to order them to come below, but anticipating her reactions was worth denying himself. She was incredibly beautiful—Aphrodite-like in her perfection. The round set of her breasts, the nipples pushing against the cloth, made it impossible for them to be meant for anything other than a reverent yet demanding touch. Niall gave her that now, pushing them together, flicking both nipples through the cotton such that she arched toward him, her eyes closing. He brought her up his body, put his mouth on one over the shirt, dampening the cloth by suckling her. The noise of it, as well as the sensation itself, stimulated her more.
Yet that darkness was expanding. Evan saw the moment it took over and she switched gears. The part of her mind he most wanted engaged pulled away.
I am responding for Master’s pleasure. This is not for me, or for Niall.
Straightening to a full straddle, she removed the shirt, her hair sliding over her cream skin. She was well aware of her beauty, but not in the sense of owning it. It belonged to Evan, as it had belonged to Stephen before him. She was its caretaker, softening her skin with those fragrant lotions they’d both detected and enjoyed. Her hair was brushed often and well, treated with products to keep it