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“It was such a sweet little moan, Ruhí. Pray tell, what were you thinking about?” He tipped his chin, moving his hand to his right arm. She was convinced she was a deep red now. “Get out.” “Try it again. A little more conviction this time.”
“How long since someone has made you come until you begged them to stop?” She whimpered, feeling the rough glide of his palm on her throat and his fingers around her neck. “That long, huh?” he hummed against her cheek before nipping at her earlobe. “Is that why you’re such a fucking brat?”
😂
“Don’t hurt yourself.” His voice was husky and thick against her skin. “You’re the one at knifepoint.” She nicked him again, teasing a growl from between his lips. “Do you think I would be if I didn’t want to be?”
“Stop,” she said, her voice hoarse. He met her heavy, half-lidded gaze, the ice in her stare more like pooled water, her breathing shallow, her lips parted. “You know the word, little goddess, and stop is not it.”
“If you’re particularly attached to your eyes, I suggest you keep them off of what’s mine,” Arioch said, his voice sharp. “Of course,” Siraj said, holding up his hands.
