Page 9 of Exiled Prince

“Fuck,” he groans, burying his face in my neck at the same time he does as he’s told, sliding his finger over my clit before sliding it inside my pussy.

“You’re soaked,” he rasps.

I then watch in rapt fascination as he lifts his finger to his mouth and sucks on it, tasting me. His eyes close, and he makes a deep sound in his chest that has me so turned on I’m about to beg him to fuck me right here and now. “Bane—”

“Let’s get out of here. Our first time isn’t going to be against a brick wall in the back of a strip club.”

“I don’t know… it’s kind of exciting, don’t you think?”

“Saylor,” he rasps, cupping my ass.

“Okay, okay.”

Where’s his sense of adventure?

“Wait, just one more taste,” I moan, pulling his lips back to mine.

“Fuck, I’m trying to do the right thing here,” he says against my mouth before kissing me back even harder.

“Who decides what the right thing to do is?” I grin, sliding down to my knees and licking down his ripped abs, tracing the tattoos with my tongue. When I reach his pants, I move to pull out his cock. Anyone could walk back here at any moment, and the thought has me so fucking turned on I don’t care if we put on a show.

“Fuck, little wolf,” he growls, picking up his tunic and covering my ass with it. Like that’s going to make a difference.

“Put it on properly. I don’t want anyone seeing you,” he rumbles, scowling.

I’m about to shut him up with my mouth on him when Bane looks behind me, fingers tightening on my hair. I turn around to see Luxe standing there, mouth open, staring at Bane like she’s never seen a male before.

“Can I join you?” she asks in a husky voice, and yeah, suddenly, this game is not so fun.

I pick up his tunic and zip us to my bedroom.

No bitch is going to see my man and think she has a chance of ever getting a taste.

He smirks as he looks down at me, obviously enjoying the fact I was jealous. “Not in the mood to share?”

“Shut up.”

Bane laughs and kisses the top of my head, then lets go of me to glance around, his dark eyes widening as he takes in my décor. I try and see it through his eyes—bright yellow walls, a big bed with white sheets covered in pink flowers and a million pillows of different sizes and colors. The drawers are built intothe bottom of my bed frame. There is a wooden armoire with the door currently left open and filled with bright-colored clothing of all prints and materials, as well as a big fluffy purple rug, which we are currently standing on.

He slowly blinks as he takes it all in.

His aesthetic is very different from mine since the only color he likes is black, but hey, opposites attract, right?

“You going to let me decorate when we move in together?” I tease, and he picks me up and throws me on the bed.

Throws me.

He makes me feel like I weigh nothing. I’ve had males try to pick me up and struggle, but Bane is something else.

He lays on top of me with his arms locked, making sure not to give me his weight as he cages me underneath him. Some of my pillows go tumbling to the floor. “You moving in with me, Sunshine?”

“I mean, maybe one day,” I mumble, pushing his dark hair off his forehead.

Up close, his dark eyes have flecks of amber in them. “You want to tell me why you were stripping and making out with another woman? And no bullshit, Saylor.”

I open my mouth, then close it. I suppose I can share it with him. It’s not like the fact that Shadow is missing is a secret, but the fact that we haven’t let it go is. We don’t want whoever has him to know we are slowly catching up and getting closer to finding him. “There was a shifter there who has some information I need. I came up with the idea to pretend to be a stripper and get him alone so I could get said information.”

His irises bleed to amber. I’m going to take that as him trying to hold onto his control. I know why he’s pissed. I would be, too, but what he doesn’t realize is that no one was actually seeing me. It was the image I projected—the sexy, redheaded vixen. No one in that room tonight saw an inch of my skin aside from him,which brings me back to the fact that my illusions don’t work on him. Or maybe it’s just that, as my mate, he can always see throughme.

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