Page 30 of Inextricably Tied

“I don’t want to be distracted,” he breathes. “And I don’t know how much I can do —” Bandages tighten when he flexes his fingers. “Like this.”

Any movement sends pain lancing through him. It makes sense, but her lips still twist to keep from trembling. Why does she care? It’s sex. One time. It doesn’t change their partnership. But every feeling inside her — from Flint and her and Agony — sends cracks beneath her surface, screaming with steam like she might burst.

“What if…” Flint holds her cheek in his palm, bringing her eyes back to him. “You touch yourself the way I tell you. Right here.” He grips her ass, grinding her along his thigh. Wet heat sizzles to life in her core. “Would you like that?”

Already, she’s jerking apart the buttons of her catsuit before Flint clamps a hand over hers. Agony jumps in.

“I’ll shut my eyes!”

But Flint leans toward him, gripping the back of Agony’s chair and spinning it toward the wall. Flint turns back to Harbinger. “Good?”

Agony answers instead. “Great. Can’t see anything.”

Flint snorts his distaste until a smile ticks onto Harbinger’s face, buttons slipping from the clasps on her catsuit. It drifts over her shoulders, draped over her breasts, framing the skin she always keeps hidden. Flint waits for her to finish, but she doesn’t move except to trail her fingers up the deep V of her suit. Her grin grows when Flint’s narrowed eyes flick to hers.

“Someone’s taking her time.”

“I kind of like this.” She grinds over his thigh, mouth taunting him out of reach. “Big, bad bodyguard isn’t in control anymore.”

She lowers her lips, then drags her tongue along the thick line of his tusk, obscene when she swirls her hips in the loose grip of his hands. Arousal spikes in him as he chuckles, sinking back to a deeper incline. With a scowl, she chases his mouth until he’s the one smirking.

“I told you before…” His talon traces down the line of her suit, outlining her breasts. An involuntary shiver rockets through her, feeding the easy line of his smile. “I don’t need to be rough to control you.”

The shift in his demeanor is palpable. Broad shoulders splayed across the headboard, giving her all his attention. Not distracted by work or danger or Agony, whose shadowy flames flicker a little higher.

“In fact…”

At Flint’s voice, Harbinger jerks her attention back to him, biting a whimper in half when he flips open a clasp of her suit with a claw. “I bet I could have you do exactly what I want without touching you.”

The thought cinches deep in her stomach. Flint pouts to mimic her, dragging his talon up to her mouth. She parts her lips without thought when he guides his finger inside.

“But you wouldn’t like that, would you, baby?”

This time, she can’t fight the sound, writhing against his leg as he brushes the pads of his fingers against her jaw. Every touch ignites her. “Because you want me to touch you, don’t you?” He withdraws the finger from her mouth, hand closing delicately around her throat. Never pressing tighter. Keeping her lovingly caged. “Because why?”

The heat is unbearable. Each touch is never enough for her, and still, it’s so much. Filling her with Flint’s desire, teasing out her own until her clit aches from wanting him. He brings his mouth close, brushing lips against hers, so painfully sweet she wants to cry. He answers the question himself.

“Because it’s mine.”

If there’s a sound from Agony, it’s covered by Harbinger’s groan, hips stirring until Flint’s eyes leave a scorching trail down her body. Laughter rumbles out of him, low and hot. She’s scared she’s left a wet spot on his leg, pitiful and needy, when he instructs her. “Touch what’s mine. Play with that pussy for me.”

Her fingers jerk at the remaining buttons of her suit to get against her clit, shuddering when his tusks brush her mouth as he growls.

“Make my baby’s pussy feel good.”

She circles herself with two fingers, leaning into his palm encircling her throat.

“One finger. Just your clit.”

A groan slices out of her, rife with irritation. She lifts her chin to look at him, curling her hand into a fist until only the middle finger is left against her clit. A smile darts across Flint’s face, but he lets her get going again before his voice cuts her off.

“Slow.”

She tests his limits. Maintaining the same sharp speed until she finds the rhythm that makes her hiss, honing on her clit with a tight pattern. Her haughty look doesn’t go without notice, but Flint doesn’t move. Doesn’t tighten his grip. Doesn’t let his brows sink into a scowl. Just lowers his voice to little more than a whisper.

“If you don’t slow down, I’m gonna lay you on the other bed and make you beg for my attention.”

The words jerk her to a halt. “Please don’t —”