Page 74 of Tempest

Tempest rasps close to my ear, “Never forget who is in charge here.”

There’s a release of pressure, then it pounds back into my anus. I realize it can’t be his knife because it’s starting to feel … good.

“It’s my thumb, princess.” Tempest chuckles darkly. “The tip of my switchblade is still on the small of your back, right up against your ass crack.”

He shoves his thumb back in. Unwillingly, my bum arches into his hand.

“That’s right,” he says, his voice taking on a low, velvet tone. “You’re mine, whenever I want, however I require it.”

“No.” But I moan the denial.

Something clangs far away—Tempest tossing his knife. He lines his hard dick up with his thumb, replacing the small pressure with a larger one.

“I won’t be craving you, Ardyn,” he rumbles, deep in his chest. His hot breaths send goose bumps trailing down my back. “You’ll be craving me.”

A blast of cold air comes between us. I have time to push off the wall when a black cloth covers my vision and tightens around my neck.

“Time to go home.”

Incredibly, I’m not afraid of this new blindness. It’s not like before. It’s nothing like it was when they had me. The men from before. Tempest is in charge, and I’m okay with it. Holy crap, I’m okay with it. “You’re going to drug me again?”

Tempest laughs softly. “Nah. You can walk on a leash this time.”

A flutter tickles my belly, but I keep that small excitement on lockdown. I still want some authority, and he’s not going to hear me beg for him to do more intriguing, sexual things to me. Not in the current state I’m in. I doubt my body could take much more, as much as I’m curious.

Soft fabric brushes against my bare breasts, perking them up. Tempest lifts my arms by brushing his hands under, then up, his barely-there touch raising my small hairs and heating my center.

He pulls my tank top over my arms and head, straightening it against my torso with gentle, caressing movements, doing the same with my underwear, leggings, and sweatshirt, lingering on the parts he hurt the most, brushing them sweetly.

Like he’s savoring, healing, and worshipping my body.

Completely at odds with his previous behavior and the total opposite of his harsh words. My lower lip slackens in confusion even though he can’t see it, and I can’t see him.

I’m desperate to know what he looks like right now. Is his expression as shocked as mine? Does Tempest want to touch me the way I’ve dreamed of touching him?

I’d like to honor him the same way. Run my hands down his muscular torso and bury them in his hair. Caress his cheek.

Before I know it, I’m doing exactly that. The pads of my fingers catch on the stubble on his jaw before he rips out of my hold.

“There. You’re clothed.”

My lips quiver before I say, “But—”

A loud whistle cuts through the air, and I jump from the sound. Multiple footsteps follow, coming down the stairs.

“Take her home,” Tempest says.

“Sure.”

I recognize the voice as the more serious of the two men I’ve yet to put names to.

“Don’t go out of your way. I’m headed in that direction. I’ll be her happy escort,” the other one says.

“No.” Tempest’s tone holds no room for argument. “You’re never to touch her. You can look at her since there’s no choice in the matter, and I love the idea of you pining over what’s mine, but if you so much as knock your hand against hers, I’m coming for you. Got it?”

Tempest’s warning isn’t even directed at me, and I’m trembling. The other guy, however, responds lightly, “We’ll see what the boss says about that.”

“You do that,” Tempest snaps. “See how well it works out for you without a tongue.”

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