She dug her fingers into his silky knot of hair and yanked his head back. His eyes snapped shut and he clenched his teeth, sucking in a sharp breath. It was not a sound of pain. Tristan’s throat bobbed in a dark chuckle as he wrenched his hair from her grip. “A Shrouded Sister who likes it rough, huh? Naughty girl.” Cassandra couldn’t help the moan that slipped past her parted lips. “Fuck me, please make that noise again,” he begged, grunting softly.
