Page 203 of The Bonding Games: Part 1

For a short while, I’m out of my body, floating someplace where I only feel bliss, a heady weightlessness, and my Bonded.

When I come back, Ezla is licking me clean, and I’m stirring all over again at the sight of her there as much as the feel of her wet tongue moving against me. My face heats to brand-new levels, both because of how demanding and insatiable my body clearly is, and additionally the gruff mutterings of Tate in the background somewhere I can’t currently pinpoint with all my attention focused elsewhere—he’s been jerking off the entire time, unsurprisingly, hard by every move our Bonded makes. “S-sorry!” I squeak.

Ezla only smirks in that cruel, sexy way of hers. “Do not be, Puppet. I love seeing how greedy my Bonds are for me.”

My heart stutters in my chest at her calling me and the other guys her Bonded again. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it, the way she’s begun to accept us . . . to maybe even return some of our feelings for her . . .

Suddenly, I want to kiss her so badly it hurts, and I scramble to sit upright, tossing my arms around her without thought.

She tenses before forcing herself to relax, then clears her throat. “What . . . are you doing?”

“I—I’d like to kiss you, please . . .”

Her lips tighten. “Alby—”

“Please! I just— It’s just—”

“Do not cut me off,” she snaps, and I halt all movements at once.

Then I start to pull away, knowing I shouldn’t have pushed for so much and starting to feel slightly shitty when she’s already so far out of her comfort zone, and here I am, clinging to her like a barnacle.

But Ezla moves in an instant, stopping me.

“Do you not understand who and what I am?”

“I do,” I whisper, arms tightening around her again. I press my cheek to her breasts, a boldness coming over me, urging me to stay close to her with her clear want for me to be here.

“And you want to kiss me? I have killed countless Evots and Exots. And I love it. I do not regret a thing.”

Glancing up at her, anxiety squirms to life inside my stomach. “I won’t . . . I won’t lie and say I enjoy the killing—” She tries to shift away again, brows lowering, and I’m probably suffocating her with my grip at this point as I squeeze her to me, exclaiming, “No! No, Ez! I-I didn’t mean it like that! I love you—every part of you! You don’t disgust me or anything! You need to kill to survive—”

“Do not romanticise it. I would do so anyway.”

“You’d kill a random innocent off the street?” I say hesitantly.

“No. That is pointless and a waste of my time.”

“So—”

“But I would if the mood struck me.”

My lips pop open . . .

And I snuggle into her further as if she’s a teddy bear rather than a ruthless killer admitting to being open to slaughtering innocents without issue if she felt like it.

“I don’t care,” I mumble into her.

“You do not care . . .” she echoes slowly, as if wondering if I’ve gone insane.

And maybe I have, because I say quietly, “No, I don’t. It doesn’t change how I feel about you. I . . . I don’t like anyone dying, but the way you kill is . . . beautiful. N-not that it’s good that anyone’s dead!” I rush to add. “An innocent life lost always makes me sad to think about. But I just . . . It doesn’t bother me as much as it should when I see you annihilate someone like you do. It’s only . . . impressive, a-and—and attractive. And nothing you do has ever made me think negatively of you, e-even when I was terrified . . .” I admit with some shame.

Do my truths make me a horrible person?

I don’t know why I’ve never really been upset when she kills someone. At least, I’m not upset with her herself, only at the fact that someone’s gone. It doesn’t make sense to me. Admittedly, I’d prefer she didn’t kill anybody outside of the Games unless they truly deserve it or it’s necessary for survival like with those Exots at the Neutral club where we had to protect ourselves, but I know my love for her wouldn’t waver no matter what she does.

“No. It makes me want to keep you,” Ezla replies bluntly.

Jolting and pulling back enough to look at her face, I don’t have time to respond to the statement that’s provoked my heart to work on overdrive as Tate adds his own opinion in a deep rumble: “I love when you kill everyone, Havoc, baby—it’s so fucking hot. I’ve cum in my pants so many times from watching clips of you online.”