“Fine,” she huffed.
“I just want you to understand what this bond between us means for me,” I said slowly, leaning in until I was surrounding her with the breadth of my body and she was pressing her palms to the stone behind her like she was fighting the urge to touch me. Or punch me. And I was cool with either option.
“And that is?”
“It means that you’re mine. That you belong to me and I’m responsible for you. I’ll come running if you’re in danger and kill a hundred assholes if they ever seek to hurt you. I’d paint myself in blood for you and carve my soul apart just to lay it at your feet. This crown you’re wearing means something to me.”
“What?” she breathed as some of the tension eased from her limbs and her gaze focused on mine like she was hungry for my answer. Like she was desperate to understand why I’d wanted this bond between us when she so clearly hadn’t. And I was happy enough to give her my answer.
“It means that you’re my queen, my goddess, my idol. It means I want to be your sword, your fists, your darkness. I want to kneel at your feet and worship you. I want to take your body and fill it with pleasure so blinding you can’t even breathe through it. I want to make you call out my name in the dark and know that no matter how bad things get, I’ll always come for you.”
“Kyan…” She frowned at me like she didn’t know what to make of my declarations and I reached out with my free hand to grasp her waist, my thumb circling her hip bone and drawing a breathy sigh from her.
“Let me worship you, baby,” I growled, licking my bottom lip slowly and revelling in the way her eyes chased the movement.
“It’s against the rules,” she pointed out, but she wasn’t trying to escape anymore.
“Mmm…I need to ask you a few questions about your rules,” I said, shifting closer to her as my thumb continued to circle her hip bone and her back arched into the movement just a little, betraying her body’s reaction to me.
“I think they’re pretty clear,” Tatum breathed, her gaze slipping to my mouth for the briefest of moments and I smirked at her knowingly.
“Not really. The no kissing rule for example…” I said in a low voice, moving so close that my lips almost brushed hers as I spoke. “I understand that means I can’t have your lips. But what if I’m the only one doing the kissing?”
“What do you mean?” she asked, her chest rising and falling deeply between us.
I leaned in but tilted my head so that my mouth landed on her jaw instead of her lips, my stubble grazing against her silky skin and making her shiver.
“Is this breaking the rules?” I breathed.
I skimmed my mouth along her jaw, finding the achingly soft patch of skin just beneath her ear and running my tongue over it. She arched her back, inhaling sharply as her breasts brushed my chest and I growled beneath my breath before biting down on that same place, drawing a moan of surprise and excitement from her.
“You didn’t answer me, baby,” I pushed.
“No,” she panted. “That doesn’t break the rules.”
“Mmm,” I groaned as I moved my mouth down her neck, tasting her skin as my cock swelled within my jeans with a desperate need for her.
She’d gone far beyond being my temptation and had become my obsession. I couldn’t even lie to myself about it anymore and I didn’t want to. She was sin embodied and I wanted to pledge my blackened soul to her and let her burn it if she wished. I didn’t really care. So long as I was close to her like this. So long as I could claim some piece of her as mine.
“And you said I can’t touch you while we’re sharing a bed, but I’m guessing I can touch you right now…” I traced my fingertips down her sides and she arched into me again, panting even more heavily as her hands landed on my biceps. But instead of pushing me off, she was pulling me closer.
“Yes,” she replied, giving up any pretence of trying to send me away. “You can touch me now.”
The sound of the rest of the party goers cheering on the race was muted beyond the huge stone and the bonfire and it almost seemed like we were all alone out here. But not quite. There was still a good chance we could be caught, but the thought of that only turned me on more.
My hands made it to the strings securing her black bikini bottoms in place and I slowly threaded my fingers beneath them, sliding them over her hips and closer to the centre of her with each passing second.
She moaned hungrily as I moved my hands down slowly, delving beneath the material until I was almost touching her clit before pulling back out again.
“But no foreplay, right?” I murmured, leaning back so that I could look into her blue eyes in the moonlight.
“I…no,” she agreed, but she didn’t sound so sure and she was definitely panting.
“And what exactly counts as foreplay?” I asked, my fingers slipping back and forth just beneath the top edge of her bikini bottoms.
“You can’t touch me beneath my underwear,” she said, trying to sound firm, but the wanton look in her eyes was seriously undermining her point. “And I can’t touch you beneath yours.”
“At least not unless we decide to break the rules,” I added, lifting my hand so that I could clasp the
