Page 16 of The Bonding Games: Part 2

Tate lays her out on the table, and he doesn’t hesitate to resume pumping his hips, an endless delirious chant of, “Yes, yes, yes,” running from him while Tiger dumps himself on his knees on the floor beside them—hands scrambling to grip onto the table, his next excited sound is muffled by Ezla’s tongue in his mouth in the next second.

“My Havoc,” Tate rumbles, thankfully not attacking him in any way when he catches the intimacy right by his head, only planting a series of gentle kisses along one of the arms that are extended to allow Ezla to cup either side of Tiger’s face, contrasting with his hips’ rough movements. “All mine . . . So fucking warm.”

Quickly glancing at Alby, I take in the way he hugs himself awkwardly, every inch of him a blaring red as he nibbles on his lip nervously. Like me and Scotty at my side, I can tell he wants to join in but is too scared, too self-conscious, to be so bold, so I give an upward jerk of my chin in silent encouragement when his eyes briefly flicker to me as he feels my stare.

Inhaling sharply, he stalls for a moment. But when a panted, “Alby,” comes from that low table, his hesitation vanishes as it always does with those two syllables on our Bonded’s plush lips; rushing into action, he scurries over with his eyelids stretched to the size of basketballs, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste. And I’m readying to head over myself, not about to miss out on this when I’ve been aching for Vengeance for days that have felt like years, when my gaze shifts to Scotty and pauses there.

He isn’t moving. Not at all. I don’t even think he’s aware I’m observing him, he’s so out of it. His visible eye is locked on our Bonded, just like the others’, but there’s also so much . . . pain, longing, guilt, and fucking misery, warring with the arousal in his gaze.

My insides pinch uncomfortably.

Scotty is not okay.

I don’t know how to help him, I don’t even know if I can, but he can’t go on the way he is. Very soon, if he’s not careful, he’s going to burn himself completely out.

8

EZLA

Throbbing veins pulse against my walls as Tate’s thick girth fills me to the brim with each of his deep thrusts, and I moan freely, unrepentantly, as he speaks filth into my ear: “Feel how well we fit together, Havoc. Do you feel it? You feel how greedy your cunt is, how you try to suck me back in every time I pull out?” Ramming into me so hard I am shoved an inch up the table, he answers his own questions, voice ragged, “Yeah . . . fuck yeah, you do. You love it. You’re dripping for me, making a mess all over my cock.”

Messy kisses from my wild one are now being planted all up my arm, and I am truly adoring the lack of finesse he continues to maintain, his eyes closed like my skin is the paradise he has been waiting for all his life, long blond lashes fluttering against his cheeks. My pussy spasms around the length splitting me apart, and Tate groans loudly, causing my body to react with goosebumps.

Oh, that feels delectable.

My lids slide closed to absorb all the worship I am rightfully being given. Worship that I clearly need at least once a day now that I have experienced it, because that three-day break seemed to be leaving me with internal ailments.

“Shit,” I hiss as my beast’s next untamed thrust throws me another inch up the table, and a familiar high-pitched timid sound meets my ears as two shaking hands find my head so it does not hang over the edge, encouraging me to open my eyes back up.

Something in me thaws a fraction while my chest skips gleefully as I find the image of Alby’s upside-down face and that ever-large green-gold-brown stare of his directly above me. “E-Ez . . .” he whispers unsteadily.

Keeping my gaze on his, I purr into his mind, So pretty.

He blinks rapidly as if startled.

Then he smiles that shy smile of his, but it is not as thrilling when the tremor to his lips is filled with doubt and insecurity.

Anger flares up, piping hot within me.

It was all lies. Nothing I have said to you over the past few days was true. You are a perfect Bonded. I will only be unhappy if you do not obey me and throw your insecurities from your mind. They are unfounded, and I will spank the life from you if you do not give me the lips I wish to have on mine at this very moment.

I can feel he is about to obey without question after that, parts of him calming, self-consciousness diminishing for the moment as he solely focuses on me and what I need of him. Yet that does not stop me from reaching my free arm up, my fingers twisting in Alby’s ebony strands and dragging him down to me for an upside-down kiss.

Tate’s piercings rub wonderfully inside me, and I relish in the near-painful stretch, his continuous stream of dirty words, rough noises, and his strong grasp on me digging into my thighs as my tongue strokes along my shy boy’s and he struggles to copy my movements. In the background, Tiger moans softly, running his tongue over my wrist, and Alby’s little whimpers are setting me aflame.

Lowering his body, Tate lets his weight settle on me. Every inch of him pressing to me, the sculpted muscles of his torso move against me in a way that has my veins thrumming, my belly coiling with that new yet now-recognisable sensation that I love so much. “Fuck, Havoc. Fuck,” he groans as I clench around him, the layers of sweat on our skin allowing his body to keep sliding against mine gloriously as he picks up his pace, hammering into me. “Yeah . . . fucking love it when your pussy strangles my dick.”

One of his large hands moves to my breast, and he pinches my nipple between two thick fingertips, his mouth claiming the other before his fingers glide down my body to stop just above where we are joined. Finding my clit, his thumb presses down on the swollen nub and begins to rub rapid circles to match the rest of his frenzied movements, earning a moan from me that Alby clumsily swallows up before he pulls away, gasping for breath in short little pants.

My body grows hotter and hotter, the pleasure winding tighter and tighter, as Tate thrusts harder and harder, his hips snapping forwards in sloppier motions as the sensations begin to overwhelm him too, rhythm upping as he chases our release. Yes, I push down the bond, mouth letting out too many hoarse moans to speak through. Give me what I deserve. Make me come. Let me claim you again.

Tate inhales sharply, hips stuttering. Rivers of ecstasy and possessiveness flood the bond in response to my words, and he pants roughly, “Fuck yeah . . . claim me. I’m all yours, Havoc. Drench my cock in you.”

And I do then, back bowing off the table, my pleasured cry ringing in my ears as I am tipped over the edge with the next pump of his hips.

“Yes, baby, yes,” Tate rasps, the vibrations of his rumbling chest seeping into me. His hips stall and jerk in erratic movements as my orgasm pulls his own from him, and a roar not unlike an animal’s tears from his throat as his cock jumps and spurts inside me. He buries himself to the hilt as he fills me up with him, heat flooding my insides. “Mine,” he grunts, his limbs spasming to match mine.

Two intakes of breath sound out as my right hand clenches punishingly in Alby’s hair, my left moving to attach my nails to Tiger’s corded arm over his Avri suit as the pleasure racks through me. I would like to feel their skin, but I am floating too blissfully, shocks sparking every inch of me, and I am unable to bark any orders out.