Page 46 of From the Ashes

“I’m going to blindfold you, okay, Little Menace?”

“Yes,” she breathes.

“Good girl,” Bishop praises, and a small shiver vibrates through her body. She sure does like that. “If anything scares you or you need to take a break at any point, I want you to say ‘red’ for me, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispers.

I pass the tie to him, and he quickly secures it around the back of her head. The moment she can no longer see, Camilla reaches out and grips my hand, using me to steady herself, and there’s a sick part of me that loves seeing her off-kilter.

“Now, I think we owe you a punishment, don’t you, Bishop?”

Her head whips up to face me even though she can’t actually see. “For what?” she snaps.

“For sneaking out without telling anyone where you were going when you’re well aware of the danger you’re in.”

“Like you would have let me go if I’d told you.”

“You’re right, love. We wouldn’t have let you run off without thinking through the possible consequences. If you needed space, we could have arranged that at the compound where we knew you were okay. But instead, you scared the shit out of all of us, and that comes with consequences.”

Her mouth pops open like she’s about to argue, but I quickly dip my face down and press my lips to hers, cutting off any further complaints. We’re not meant to be discussing this, not tonight. Tonight is meant to be part of our reconciliation, which includes overwhelming her with so many orgasms she can’t possibly argue when we insist on taking her home to the compound tonight.

Does that make us assholes? It certainly does. But I don’t care. I need my woman at home, where she belongs, and where I’m sure she’ll be safe.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

CAMILLA

The moment my sense of sight is taken away from me, my entire body goes rigid.

Every sound makes my heart rate speed up, every breath I take seems a little too loud, and every touch of their hands on me is almost overwhelming.

Bishop grasps my face and presses his lips to mine in a soft caress that feels almost unnatural given the circumstances. We’re in the middle of an adult club, surrounded by sex toys and implements that are designed to give both pleasure and pain, and yet the way he kisses me is like I’m the most precious thing in the world to him.

He pulls back slightly, but his palm remains against my cheek, holding me steady as his breath whispers across my cheeks. “I’ve missed you, love.”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to say it back, but I quickly swallow the impulse, no matter how true it is. I have missed him, I’ve missed all of them, but that doesn’t excuse them lying to me, and it’s going to take more than a single kiss to make me forgive them.

Another rough hand wraps around my throat and pulls my face in the opposite direction. The way Crew’s huge hand restricts my airway ever so slightly makes me rub my thighs together despite myself. I’m not ashamed to admit I’m desperate for relief.

A palm cracks against my ass, and a moment later, pain radiates across the cheek. Thank fuck it’s not the same one Kovu got a little knife happy with.

“We’ll give you what you need when we see fit, love. Don’t try to get relief we’re not offering,” Bishop reprimands.

Crew chuckles against my lips as he nips at the sensitive pillows of flesh. “You taste so fucking sweet, Camilla. I can’t wait to eat your pretty pussy.”

A moan escapes my throat, the idea of having his sinful mouth on me makes me desperate for it. The loss of my sight only seems to make every touch feel more and more heady, and I can barely breathe through my own need.

“Let’s get you out of this dress, shall we, love?” Bishop croons, his fingers hooking into the hem of my dress. He drags the fabric up my body so slowly it’s almost painful, but even without being able to see them, I know their eyes are burning into my flesh.

The second it’s over my head, I hear it hit the floor, and then a low growl fills the room.

“What the fuck is this?” Crew’s fingers move around the bandage I used to dress the wound before I came out tonight.

“Did you get a tattoo without talking to us, love?” Bishop asks, his fingers grasping my chin so tight it borders on pain.

“You can thank Kovu for that little addition to my body.” The annoyance I felt earlier in the week is missing some of its edge.

“For fuck’s sake,” Bishop murmurs as he peels away the bandage, and I can feel both sets of eyes staring at the top of my ass cheek where he’s claimed me.

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