Page 167 of The Bonding Games: Part 2

“Of course, my shy boy,” Ezla purrs, and she’s entirely uncaring about the attention we gain from those she’d only seconds ago terrified away with her glare as she strides right up to me, wraps her hand around the front of my neck, and slams her mouth to mine.

My eyelids stretch wide enough to hurt.

When I process the new situation, I snap at my clumsy tongue to get into action, and I could have sworn I was getting better at kissing before this when my eyes squeeze shut and I try to move my lips in response to hers. At least any embarrassment is swatted away before it can settle down the moment my Bonded hums against me and purrs down the bond, Always so beautifully clumsy. You are so perfect, Alby. So mine.

Oh . . . Her words have me feeling as though I’m close to passing out, my legs like jelly.

Yes . . . yours. My voice sounds dazed even in my mind, and the arms that I’ve somehow worked around her without my knowledge squeeze her to me desperately.

Such a good boy.

I want to be your good boy, Tiger whines, and Ezla pulls back. Can you come and meet mine and Scotty’s parents?!

And mine, if you don’t mind, Vengeance.

So demanding.

I can’t tell if Ezla’s remark sounds more amused or like a threat.

Yes, she says a moment later.

Relief and piles of love overwhelm the bond.

Nose wrinkling, Ezla sends next, That is sickeningly sweet. Stop it.

Sorry, Love. We can’t help it.

Her eyes roll before she tells us like she thinks it’s important to note, Before you ask it of me, I will take care not to kill your parents. I will not let my usual desires take over.

Four blinks and one hungry lick of lips as Tate grunts and adjusts himself. So hot, my Havoc. Just the thought of you in action—

Does that mean you’ll be wanting to kill our parents? Cooper asks, and I can tell he’s trying to sound calm here rather than letting any anger or fear creep through.

Do not be ridiculous, Cooper, Ezla snaps. I may not be able to feel anything for them, but I would never do something to harm you like that would emotionally. It is entirely insulting to believe so when I have told you multiple times and also just stressed this fact so you would not worry—

Shit, sorry, HC. Sorry, I took that the wrong way. I know you love us. Guess I just also know how brutal you are, which is brilliant as always—

I am eager for your many punishments to come, she informs him, tone back to being completely even. I also have just re-analysed your worries and realised they do stroke my ego. Additionally, I do feel you need to be reminded of my ruthlessness from time to time, so I appreciate the words.

Oh, you’re so very welcome, Ezzy—

A throat clears.

All our heads whip the Showmaster’s way.

“The speech is over. They’re in a bit of a . . . what’s the word? It’s chaos down there, but none of them rejected a single one of my words!” he says cheerily. “I do believe I have a talent for—”

“You are dismissed,” Ezla cuts him off.

“But I—”

“Do you want to return to your penthouse or not? I will speak with you later, Peter. You have done your job exceptionally well.”

Pride transforms his face in an instant. “Thank you, Ezla—”

“Empress,” Tate corrects in a low growl. “And take your beady little fucking eyes off my Havoc, you pea-brained, over—”

“You may leave,” Ezla barks. “Everyone but my Bonds. Leave now.”