Page 119 of The Bonding Games: Part 1

I couldn’t trample my scorching desire underfoot if I tried.

Vaguely, I nod along to my brother, who’s still trying his best to give Ezla some breathing room, and I think, You know what? Maybe we can do this. Maybe we don’t need to give in to our impulses. We’re not animals—

Tate’s hand uncurls in a flash and darts out to clutch onto Ezla’s thigh firmly.

Spine snapping straight, alarm and another heavy dose of arousal strike through me like lightning.

“Tate—” Cooper hisses but cuts himself off, jaw working as his eyes flit between him and Ezla as we all take in the fact that she hasn’t shifted. Not even a little.

Tate’s hand rises higher on her thigh, and my blood becomes liquid fire in my veins, fingernails leaving imprints on my palms as I force myself to stay in place rather than lunge for my Bonded like a starved beast.

She already has one of those to deal with.

Ezla tenses a fraction as his palm drags even closer to her underwear, and he stops dead at the same time my lungs temporarily shut down.

In the weighted silence that ensues even louder than before, everyone waits for what she’ll do next, each of us fixated on her, completely consumed by her.

And then her legs uncross . . . and her thighs part.

“Fuck yes, Havoc, baby.” Tate is practically salivating as his hand wraps fully around her thigh, swallowing it whole. It makes something flare up inside me to see that, how I could tuck her away, too, wrap her in my arms and look after her.

Her appearance isn’t why I love her, despite how jaw-dropping she is, and I’d love her no matter her weight or body shape—it wouldn’t change a thing. But I can’t deny that I like the way she looks like I could just . . . take her from harm by shielding her with my body.

Even though she’s far from needing me to.

But I’ve always had this almost fanatical need to be able to care for the people I love, and when it comes to her, as bad as this might sound, the only thing I have a true advantage with is being bigger and heavier; I’d have a much better chance of pinning her smaller form down if she ever tried to go off and do something suicidal, for example. Not that she’s that kind of person, and I have full confidence in her and an unfaltering admiration for her, but . . . it’s really just a nice thought for me to have as part of a failsafe in the worst possible scenario.

Ezla keeps her face tilted to the ceiling, her feelings locked up securely, but that doesn’t deter Tate, and my focus sears into where his hand finally closes the distance between it and her clothed pussy, firmly cupping her.

Alby whimpers, his glazed hazel eyes a tad frenzied as they track everything just like mine do, and from the corner of my eye, I notice Tiger taking himself out of his briefs, as unabashed here as he is with everything else, but I pay no mind to that—it doesn’t bother me. And maybe that’s because we’ve been prepared for the possibility of sharing a woman since the moment we learned about bonding, so it was kind of a given something like this might happen, and we’ve both come to terms with that . . . even if we didn’t account for the fact three other men might also be involved with her. All this is definitely easier for me to handle because of everything me and my brother have talked through over the years.

Cooper watches, too, and although he’s the most difficult to read when he appears moody most of the time without meaning to, the embers of hunger flaring in his pupils give him away as he rubs a hand over his mouth.

Blocking out all of them easily when my focus centres entirely back on Ezla, I let out a soft huff, lips parting as Tate hooks a finger in the edge of her thong and pulls the fabric aside, revealing her perfect pink pussy beneath the crystal-clear water.

A hissed curse meets my ears from my left, water sloshing with rapid movements of my brother’s hand while Tate lets out a low, rough groan and dips his head to run his nose over Ezla’s neck, inhaling her scent. My own nostrils flare with the need to experience that for myself, to know what my Bonded smells like now that her suit isn’t in the way to shield her essence from us, but I manage to control myself, giving this moment to Tate. Shifting in attempt to relieve the ache in my groin, a quiet grunt slips from my mouth as his middle finger slides along her slit before finding her clit and beginning to rub slow, careful circles.

I don’t know if his pace is because he wants to be gentle, or because he’s more cautious for his first time learning how to touch a woman, but he’s doing perfectly fine either way, so I decide he doesn’t need any guidance at the moment. Especially as I catch the minor escalation in the rise and fall of our Bonded’s chest, letting me know just how good it feels even if she does make it hard to catch any of her responses. Her face is still impassive, battling me on my advanced observation skills, but her body can’t lie.

My eyes skate back down her figure, over her plump little breasts, across her belly button, and at last coming to glue back on those perfect folds just as Tate presses a thick finger to her entrance and sinks the digit inside avidly. “Gods, Havoc. Your little cunt is so wet for me—for us. So tight.”

Her lashes flutter, lips parting just enough for a shaky breath to leave them, and I can’t suppress the rough moan that leaves my mouth in response, especially as I feel a tendril of her pleasure sneaking through the bond. In the water, my hand moves to press over the tent in my briefs firmly, desperately needing to relieve the uncomfortable throbbing there, and I can’t stop myself from murmuring, “Just how wet is she, Tate?” My voice comes out far huskier than intended.

“Dripping,” he growls, starting to move that finger back and forth inside of her, ravenous eyes trying to read her face. But her expression is still a mask of no emotion, and I can see the frustration in him in response, his burning need to get a reaction from her and know he’s pleasuring her well.

So that’s when I decide to tell him, “You’re doing good, Tate. She likes that, don’t you, Love?”

Her jaw tightens, and my lips twitch into a faint smirk when she can’t deny it.

Tate only confirms what I already knew when he sinks his teeth into his lower lip, darkened eyes flicking between the sight under the water and her face. “She just clenched around me.”

Closing my eyes for a beat, they roll back in my head as I imagine that wet heat squeezing around my fingers instead. But they’re quick to open again, not wanting to miss a second of this perfect moment. “Push another finger inside her. Stretch her open for us.”

He obeys without hesitation, desperate to make our girl feel good, rapture charging up my insides like a live wire at the view before me when another thick finger disappears inside her sweet pussy. I watch the way she takes them, imagining my cock there instead.

Fingers moving in and out, hand shifting about, I can tell he’s searching for her G-spot, so I open my mouth to tell him what that might feel like—but the need is dismissed when Ezla’s divine moan kisses my ears and Tate mutters, “There it is. That the spot, Havoc, baby?”

As if ashamed, her eyelids glide closed.