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Exasperation rippled across her face, but a smile pulled at her mouth. “Do you never get tired of being a freaking weirdo?”

“It’s being normal that’s exhausting.”

“You wouldn’t know what normal was if it fucked you in the ass and called you Judy.”

“Why Judy?”

She spluttered. “Because.”

“Gotcha. Makes sense.”

Shaking her head fast, Larkin threw up a hand. “Stop talking.”

“Well, that was rude.”

“Do you care?”

“That you were rude? No. If you want to flirt with my beast that way, go for it,” Teague invited with a shrug. Lowering his head so that their mouths were mere inches apart—and barely resisting the urge to close that small distance—he warned, “Just remember that you’ll only make the demon more determined to bite you.”

She tensed in his arms. “Just remember that that won’t be happening. And before you complain about it, let me point out that I don’t see you lining up to be tortured by my demon. I’m no masochist either.”

He felt his brow crease. “Whoa, my entity doesn’t want to torture you or yours.” Where was she getting that from?

“Your venom would likely put me through a shitload of pain the likes of which could make me pass out.”

He pursed his lips. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

She poked his ribs hard.

Laughing, Teague breathed her in, letting her scent settle him. His demon was still tightly wound after the attack earlier. His clan hadn’t taken it well either, and there had been some talk of eradicating the entire shadowkin race at some point. But now that he had Larkin’s body all snug against his own, her scent in his lungs, her gorgeous eyes glaring up at him, he felt the rest of the day fall away.

Dropping his gaze to her lips, he said, “You haven’t kissed me tonight yet.”

“The only thing I want to do to your mouth is punch it.”

A chuckle rumbled out of him. “Oh, how you lie.” Before she could protest, he telepathed her another image. Not a memory this time, but a picture of her spread out beneath him on her bed while he feasted on her pussy.

Heat flared in her eyes, and she swallowed.

He hadn’t teased her too much through the evening up until this point, wanting to wait until she was good and agitated—that was when her defenses fell and she was more likely to play with him.

“Don’t, or I’ll retaliate,” she warned, fisting the sides of his shirt.

“I’m counting on it.” He sent her another image—one of him lying on top of her, pinning her down with his weight while he held her wrists above her head.

Her cheeks flushing, she psychically struck fast.

An image of her on her knees sucking him off popped into his head . . . and went straight to his cock, making it begin to thicken. He smiled slow and wide. “I do love it when you play dirty.”

At that moment, Harper and Knox appeared.

The sphinx gave them a winning smile. “Hey, kids, I—Jesus, Teague, what did you do to put that look on her face? Tell me you haven’t been purposely riling her. She looks ready to pounce on you—and not in a good way.”

“I’m struggling to make him understand that it would be bad if he or his demon bit me,” Larkin fudged. “Which wouldn’t be so annoying if it was the first time we’d had this conversation. But it’s not. And I could roll my eyes if he was being obtuse. But he’s not. He genuinely doesn’t see the issue.”

Harper scratched at the back of her head. “Yeah, I’m not surprised, given the amount of pain he and his beast willingly put themselves through during every race.”

His expression neutral, Knox studied Teague with a probing gaze. “There’s one thing your demon could do to limit your venom’s effect on Larkin. But I’m sure that both you and the entity already know that, so I have to wonder why it hasn’t done it; why you haven’t urged the beast to do it.”

Yes, there was something Teague’s demon could do to spare her any pain from the bite. Something the entity wanted to do. But as the relationship was fake, Larkin would hate it. Neither he nor his beast wanted to see the abhorrence on her face that she’d inevitably feel. However, this wasn’t something he could explain to Knox.

Instead, Teague shrugged and said, “Her demon wouldn’t take kindly to being branded yet. It isn’t ready. Both me and my demon sense that, and we respect it.”

Approval gleamed in Knox’s eyes. “Good.”

Larkin’s mind brushed Teague’s, and then her voice was in his mind . . . Wait, a brand would minimize my body’s reaction to your venom?

Yes. It would still sting a lot, but that’s all. Being marked is not something you or your demon would want, though. His entity was a law unto itself in many ways, but Teague didn’t worry that it would brand her regardless—it wouldn’t do anything to Larkin that would upset or repel her.

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