Page 58 of The Bonding Games: Part 2

A jolt spears right down my middle, and I freeze in place. “You . . . you want me to stay here? You want me to stay like this?” With her affirmative hum, which I’m glad to say sounds thoroughly gratified, almost blissed out, I comfortably settle my weight back down. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“That was nothing,” she tells me simply. I tense, but she finally opens her eyes that have been closed this entire time and reaches her free hand behind her to bury her fingers in my hair. Pleasant tingles skitter from my nape and down my spine. “It is simply the truth, Cooper. I can handle much more than that. I know you are afraid of being like my father.”

My eyes squeeze shut. “Joseph,” I correct quietly, an edge to my voice that I can’t hide.

She’s quiet for a moment. Then she repeats quietly, “Joseph.”

My lids fly back open.

Swallowing, I meet and keep her intense mismatched gaze as she says, “I do not wish to speak of that man other than to say that you are nothing like him. I would not have let you touch me if you reminded me of him in any way. And as for touching me the way you want . . .” I stop breathing. “You may.”

All the air exits my lungs in one go. “Fuck. Yeah? Did you like that?”

“I did.” Then, “I would like you to slap my pussy next time.”

At that abrupt, blunt request, I turn my head to cough into my shoulder, but my cock betrays me as it swells and fills her up again.

“Like you did my ass,” she continues, unruffled. “Maybe I could come like that?”

Biting down on my lip to contain my grin, I reply roughly, “Of course, HC.” I hesitate before telling myself to stop being a wussy, and I shift us, pulling out of her with a low groan. Switching our positions, I take her in my arms and lay myself out on my back, head hitting the plump pillow where hers once was, her scent swirling stronger around me.

Unsurprisingly, her body’s lost some of its pliability, but I try not to let that affect me or take it personally. This isn’t her rejecting me, it’s her trying to get used to me.

My grip is non-sexual as I move my hand to her ass to help position her in the way I want her—not that my cock gets the memo, but I ignore the Ezla-hungry fucker as I tuck her into me, my other hand moving to her waist. “This okay?” My voice comes out a little grumpy-sounding, but I know Vengeance is completely aware that I’m far from being anything but contented in this moment.

Well, minus the muscle-weakening nerves in me.

Cheek resting on my chest, her breath tickles my skin. “It is, my grumpy one.”

Great. Now I’m blushing like an idiot.

Clearing my throat, I gently rub up and down her back, trying to soothe her in that way Scotty always does so well.

“You do not need to be like him.”

My hand stills. “Do you not like it when it’s me?” The words are out before I can reel them back in.

Propping her chin on the hands she overlaps on my chest, Ezla bores all that searing attention of hers into my face. “You are rather self-conscious,” she muses. “You remind me of my shy boy.” Alby. “Yet you are so different.”

I snort. “I’m just the more brash, asshole version of him?”

She hums, lips tipping up into a smirk, and my pulse trips over itself. Then it leaps when she says, “It is a shame I do not wish to harm you anymore. I would be so interested to see if your innards look the same, too.”

“Jesus Christ, Ezla.” I can’t tell if I’m more amused or horrified, and I let out an incredulous breathy laugh. “Are these the kinds of things me and the guys will be hearing throughout the rest of our lives together?”

I realise how stupid a thing that was to say when she turns to stone in my arms.

“Shit, I—”

“Do you think I will let you go now that I have you?” she cuts brutally through my internal spiralling, and it’s my turn to become a statue. Her brown and inky-crimson eyes drill into me with a familiar sharpness that I’m only grateful for after the absence there earlier which was only interrupted by a single-minded predatory intent. “I have claimed you. You are mine. I would like to see you try to get away—”

“Vengeance.” I gently grip the back of her neck. “In no way was I suggesting I’d ever try to leave you. Quite the opposite.” Then my lips fight against me, and she watches me with eyes that slit further each time a corner of my lips manages to tick up. “But your possessiveness and need for me is ridiculously fucking good to hear.”

“I hate you,” she states.

The grin fully takes over. “Too late to say that now, Vengeance. You—”

Her hand slams over my mouth. “Shut. Up.”