Page 120 of The Bonding Games: Part 1

Then she nods, the action barely discernible.

“Mhmmm . . . fuck yeah. You like that?” he rasps.

As though it’s easier than saying it aloud, I hear that velvety caress enter my mind for the first time:

Yes.

“Oh gods,” Alby mewls at the same time Cooper’s neck extends as he tips his head back like he’s savouring something delectable, confirming they all heard her the same as me.

“Oh my fucking god. I’m in paradise. Heaven,” Tiger moans, hand still moving under the water, creating ripples across the surface.

“Fuck her on your fingers faster, Tate,” Cooper instructs with undeniable lust soaking through each deep word.

Tate’s other hand slides to her inner thigh and spreads her further open for our viewing pleasure as his fingers pump inside of her more rapidly, encouraging Ezla’s breasts to move up and down faster, her breath hitching as the prettiest flush I’ve ever seen crowds her skin. Groaning, I rub my palm up and down my length through my underwear, spine tingling with the promise of release. “Good girl, Love . . . that’s a good fucking girl—let him take care of you.”

A rumble vibrates through Tate . . . before he licks a stripe right up her neck, then bites down on her jawline, and I feel everything in me tense, prepping for relief, as his thumb moves to stimulate her clit while his other fingers continue thrusting steadily, demanding her orgasm mercilessly and drawing another sweet-as-sin moan from her, those mismatched eyes rolling back.

Then her spine arches, and I lose it as she comes with a hoarse cry.

My orgasm tears through me, cock jumping and spurting cum in the confines of my briefs. The cords of my neck stretch taut as I bring the back of my hand up to my mouth to muffle my groan, the other pressing down over myself to prolong the pleasure.

“Ez!” Tiger’s body jerks in the water, and I know he’s found release himself, while poor Alby looks as aroused as he is mortified, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out he’s just done the same without even touching himself. Might be a bit awkward, but I don’t want him to feel bad about that, so I might try and talk to him about this later.

“Stunning, Vengeance,” Cooper breathes lowly.

Tate is simply lost, it seems, his lips starting to move sloppily over our Bonded’s neck like he’s trying to devour her, and she appears momentarily too blissed out to shove him away.

He only allows his mouth to leave her when he pulls his fingers from her pussy, immediately sticking them in his mouth and sucking and licking them clean with a manic, dangerous look in his eyes that I haven’t seen to this extent since the first time I met him. “Mine, mine, mine, mine . . .” he mutters over and over again, burying his face back in her neck, hands returning to her body to slide all over it, getting more and more vigorous with each pass.

My senses sharpen even though I’m still weak and trembling with aftershocks, vision narrowing as I watch the interaction carefully, making sure he’s not completely gone and Ezla is comfortable.

“Ours,” Cooper corrects, his own eyes slitting, and I shoot him a warning glance.

Tate only grunts, running a hand over our Bonded’s side and planting wet kisses everywhere he can.

Okay. That went better than I thought it would.

I can never be too sure he won’t just wake up one day and decide it was a mistake to accept sharing his obsession, and I don’t want him blowing up and attempting to steal her away.

Our Bonded goes rigid then.

And I know this is over.

“Enough.”

Tate growls darkly, hugging her against him.

“Enough, Tate,” I repeat Ezla’s command firmly.

Panting aggressively, he doesn’t move for a beat.

Then, ever so slowly, he pulls back, the intensity of his stare still boring into her, unwavering. The tremble of his limbs as he removes his hands from her body tells me how hard this is for him, as if he has to exert herculean strength to keep his limbs in check.

Again, silence wraps around the room.

Before my brother, like always, breaks the tension with a chipper tone on the most random subject possible, and we gradually fall back into conversation, leaving Ezla to stare blankly at the ceiling once more.

But no matter how many times I try to push through the bond to check in on her, no matter how many times I think, Are you okay, Love . . . ?