Preston’s teeth sink into the flesh of my neck and I groan. My knees go weak and I reach for his arms to hold on to. I need him to ground me while I lose myself in him. I hope there’s a mark tomorrow. “Brendon doesn’t touch you again.” His words are hard in my ear, a clear statement, not a question. He finally lets go of my nipple and I hiss, flinching away from his hand as blood rushes to the abused skin. “On your fucking knees.”
