Page 69 of Sweet Torment

“Tris,” she breathes, my name torn from her lips like a secret.

I double down, circling her clit ruthlessly, feeling her tense and shudder.

“That’s it,” I murmur, not really caring if she hears. “Give it to me, omega.”

Now she’s moving against my face, desperate, chasing the pleasure. I hold her there, not letting her get away.

Through the bond, I feel it when she tips over—a blinding rush that has me grinding against the mattress. She comes with a soft, desperate cry, her body shaking, her grip in my hair brutal. I don’t stop, licking her through every aftershock until she’s trembling and oversensitive, until she’s trying to squirm away from the intensity.

When her thighs finally go slack, I look up. She’s watching me with the blanket lifted slightly, her eyes heavy, cheeks stained pink, her hair a riot around her face.

This gorgeous creature is mine.

“Good morning,” I say, kissing her inner thigh. “Sleep well?”

She narrows her eyes at me, but there’s no bite to it. Just that spark—the challenge that’s always there between us, the one that makes me want to pin her down and make her surrender.

Before she can answer, the mattress dips. The others are waking up.

I plan to slide up her body, to ask if I can sink my painfully hard cock inside her, to beg if necessary, but⁠—

“What the fuck?”

Bianca does not sound happy.

I emerge from under the blankets to find chaos. She’s sitting up, staring at the handcuffs connecting her to Owen with an expression that promises violence. Owen’s trying to look innocent and failing miserably. Weller and Freddie are both awake now, watching with varying degrees of concern and amusement.

“Morning, Princess,” Owen says with that shit-eating grin of his.

“Don’t you ‘morning, Princess’ me.” She yanks on the handcuffs hard enough that Owen winces. “What the fuck is this?”

“Insurance,” he says simply.

“Against what?”

“You disappearing.”

She stares at him for a long moment, and I can actually see her cycling through emotions—disbelief, anger, more anger, a brief stop at murderous rage, before settling on cold fury.

“Take. Them. Off.”

“Can’t.” Owen shrugs with his good shoulder. “Lost the key.”

She is going to murder him. And honestly, I might help her. It’s a dick move, even for Owen.

“Owen.” Her voice is slightly terrifying. “I will remove your dick with my teeth if you don’t take these off right now.”

“Promises, promises.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. I’m not losing you again, Bianca.”

Her face softens before she catches herself. I see it, that flash of vulnerability, before the walls slam back up.

“You’re obnoxious, and I need to pee.”

“So pee.”