I imagined myself licking the tattoo once it healed on her thigh.
“We are going to our next surprise.” Nyomi reached for the slave's leash.
I was across the space before my brain caught up with my body. I wrapped my hand around hers and lifted the leash out of her grip. "Leave him here, Tora. They'll watch him."
Her brow furrowed. "Kenji, he'll want to come with—"
"They will watch him." I passed the leash to the woman in emerald green.
Smiling, she took it and wrapped the chain around her palm.
The slave's head stayed down and his view remained on the ground.
Nyomi scowled at me, but remained silent.
I slid my hand to the small of her back.
Sighing, she walked with me, guiding us away.
Everyone followed.
We set off toward the left side of the ballroom, toward the first draped section, Claws trailing behind us with their tray remnants and a collective sense of increasing giddiness.
My hand stayed firm against her spine, possessive and warm through the fabric.
She turned her head slightly toward me and dropped her voice. "What did you do to my slave?"
I kept my expression pleasant. "Correction. Hiroko's slave."
"Kenji—"
"I'm the only man who kneels for you." I leaned in and nipped her ear. “The only one that crawls. He’s lucky to be alive.”
She shivered and her breath caught.
I felt it travel all the way down her spine under my palm.
“Fuck, Tora.” I licked my lip and let my mouth stay close to her ear. "Only me. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Good talk."
The blush crept up her neck in a slow warm tide.
I watched it climb. Watched it bloom along her jawline. Watched her throat work as she swallowed against it. When we made it to the huge draping, Nyomi stopped us, turned around, and clapped her hands once.
Two new women entered the ballroom. Each carried a small black tray.
I smiled.
Aww. Here we go. Now I’ll never hear the end of this.
On each tray sat oversized lollipops.
They were about five inches in diameter, mounted on thick white sticks that could have passed for wands. The shells were clear sugar with the faintest red tint, like pale rose glass. Inside each sugar shell, a liquid swirled visibly— red and white twining around each other and moving in slow hypnotic loops.
"Oh shit!" Hiro stabbed his cane at the floor for emphasis. "This is mine!"
