Lords of Wrath (Royals of Forsyth University, #2)

by Angel Lawson

I look at Tristian’s flawless face, sharp jaw, and blue eyes. “How come you haven’t fucked me yet?” His eyebrows climb to his forehead. “Do you want me to?” “I don’t know.” I shrug, plucking the cherry out of my glass. “I just figured once Killian popped my cherry, you would have taken me for yourself. I keep waiting for one of you to pounce. It’s making my head hurt.” There’s a beat of silence before Tristian rises my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Oh, I’ve thought about it. Repeatedly.” He pitches forward to steal a slow kiss. The chaste nature of it is belied by the words he speaks next. “I’ve thought about tossing you on my bed and driving into you so hard that you cry out my name. I’ve thought about bending you over the edge of the couch—the one right over there—and making the other two watch as I take you. I’ve considered doing it a million different ways.” Those scenes flash in front of me, warmth pooling in my stomach. “So why haven’t you?” “Maybe I’m waiting for you to heal up.” He licks at my mouth, his tongue darting against mine. “Or maybe I’m waiting for you to answer my question with a ‘yes’ instead of an ‘I don’t know’.” Tristian Mercer, caring about my consent?