Page 382 of The Bonding Games: Part 1

She starts to unravel then, mouth opening, features contorted with pleasure as her hands clutch me tighter, mismatched eyes falling closed . . .

Her pussy drenches my hand.

A long, deep moan leaves me as I keep pumping my fingers, wanting to wring out every ounce of pleasure from her. I only slow when she starts gasping for breath and trembling.

Then she grins at me like the cat that got the cream.

A cat with venomous fangs, daggers for claws, and a spiked tail.

Gently, I pull my fingers from her and lick them clean with a satisfied hum before kissing a trail over her stomach, planting a couple tender ones to her skin in contrast to the way my lips previously devoured her. She squirms in what seems like both arousal and discomfort.

We’ll work on that because as much as I like things filthy, there’s no way I’m not giving her any softness when I want that equally as bad. And I’m sure if she learned there’s nothing scary about affection, she’d only enjoy it, too.

Nipping her jawline when I reach higher, I rest my forearms either side of her head, catching the uncertainty in her eyes even as I watch her usual mask gradually working to overtake it. Then I smirk at her, and that intense stare narrows. “Taste like hot cinnamon, Hot Cinnamon.”

She scoffs.

I look over my shoulder at the other guys. “Can one of you pass one of the wet flannels?”

“Sure!” Tiger eagerly moves over to the bedside table and snatches one of the small black towels up before handing it to me, and I start to pull the oversized shorts down Ezla’s legs—

Her hand latches onto my wrist in a flash.

“What are you doing?” she hisses, digging crescents into my skin with her nails. Yet she can’t hide the confusion beneath the piping-hot daggers in her slitted eyes.

My brows dip with my own confusion. “Cleaning you up?”

“Why?”

“Uh . . . aftercare?”

“What?”

I sit back on my heels, trying to keep my temper under control. “What’s the problem? You don’t want me taking care of you?”

“First, I do not need to be taken care of. Second, I am simply not understanding the point in this. I have not experienced this before. It is unnecessary.”

A string of emotions roll through me, too many to count and name. I say slowly, “You’ve never received aftercare?”

She scowls, more pissed by the second. “Problem?”

“Kind of, Love,” Scotty says cautiously, he, Tiger, Alby, and Tate all listening in on this conversation intently.

“You did not demand this previous times.”

“Okay, firstly”—Scotty holds up his pointer finger—“we’re not demanding.” He extends another. “And secondly, that’s because it was very obvious it wouldn’t be welcomed.”

A dark brow arches. “Oh, and now it is?”

Scotty looks to me, and my shoulders lift in a shrug before I turn my neck back to Vengeance. “I’m not not taking care of you after I just pounded your pussy with my fingers.”

“Will this do something?” she asks suspiciously, and I don’t miss the way her eyes shift from me to scan over the room, pausing when they land on the chair in the corner where we’ve left her freshly washed Avri suit along with the rest of her belongings we’d had to strip her of.

I do a Scotty-style sigh, drawing her piercing gaze back to me. “If you let it, it can relax you.”

“I do not relax.”

“I’ve noticed,” I deadpan. “Now, are you going to let me clean you up?”