Page 36 of Dragon Rivals of New York

Fuck, bossy Kyro is just as hot as grumpy scowling Kyro. Once I’m laying beside Sora, he ignores me, his focus fully on our mate, which doesn’t bother me at all. She deserves all of it.

He spreads her legs, kneeling between them. She flinches when he drags the bottle over her clit, whimpers when he slides it inside her. We both watch with rapt attention as her thirsty little cunt sucks the top of the champagne.

Fuck me.

She squirms, and Kyro pulls the bottle out, bringing it to my lips. Her flavor clings to the glass in a way that has my body tensing with the need to drink straight from the source. Kyro’s not careful as he tips it, sending the sweet liquid straight down my throat. I swallow and sputter, champagne spilling out the side of my lips. But fuck, it tastes good. My mate’s arousal mixing with the rich alcohol. This is my new favorite cocktail.

“Are you okay?” Sora tries to sit up, but Kyro straddles her.

“He’s fine,” he looks at me, “aren’t you?”

I lick my lips. “More than fine.”

He tilts his head, examining me with a wicked smile. “You like drowning in what I give you.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement. “Dirty fucker, aren’t you? Begging for it like a little needy cumslu—”

“Hey!” Sora makes another move, but Kyro snaps my yellow bracelet, reminding her I’m okay with this. Fuck, I’m more than okay with this. Not sure what my baggage is that makes me so hard when he’s calling me names, but my skin is hot and my cock is dripping all over my stomach.

Sora clamps her lips shut, but her eyes are wide. I jerk my head in her direction. I don’t want her to be uncomfortable with this. Kyro picks up on my subtle cue to tone it down for Sora’s sake and doesn’t go back to the comments he started. But he doesn’t take his eyes off me, and I think I’m gonna combust just from laying here under his scrutiny.

He takes the rope and begins intricately tying Sora’s arm to mine as we lay side by side. He’s conscientious, checking with us both each step of the way, pausing now and then to drag the edge of the rope slowly up Sora’s skin, to kiss the inside of her elbow, her breasts, her belly. I never would have guessed Kyro could be so gentle or so skilled at Shibari. The intricate knots and patterns he wraps around Sora’s whole body and around my arm, binding me to her, are elaborate, elegant even. This isn’t just bondage, it’s art.

He makes sure the rope isn’t too tight, but the pressure is enough to keep me very aware of the sensation. He leaves my body free, unlike Sora’s, but after tying my arm to hers, he moves down to our legs. Our girl is panting and whimpering with each new knot, and it’s driving my anticipation to a frenzy. He doesn’t tie her legs together, but begins to wrap her leg with mine.

Being bound to her like this feels like a symbol of everything I feel toward Sora, everything I hope for our future.

Starting at our feet, Kyro wraps and knots and works his way up, higher and higher. When he gets just above my knee, I purposefully tense and relax my muscles to make my dick twitch like it’s waving at him.

He glares at me and stops.

Shit, that’s not what I wanted. I’m pretty sure he’s only tying me up because he takes some sick pleasure in controlling me, and because he prefers me bound and unable to participate while he pleasures our girl. If he knew how much this was working for me, he’d stop, which I guess is exactly what just happened.

Fuck.

I open my mouth to say something, though I don’t know what.

“Shut up,” he says. “Spread your legs.”

“Oh, I like that idea,” I say.

Sora giggles.

“You too,” he adds.

She and I both spread our outer, unbound legs wide. Kyro ties Sora’s to one bedpost and mine to the other, locking us to the bed and to each other. Completely at his mercy.

Fuck, this is going to be the best night ever.

Chapter 17

Kyro

Isitbackandadmiremy work. Wrapped in lines of rope, Sora looks like a present I can’t wait to open, or a candy cane I can’t wait to lick. She’s beautiful. And completely captive. I circle the last of the rope around the outside of her breasts and tie intricate knots between her cleavage, framing the mounds like I’m trying to put her nipples on display. Which I am.

My gaze shifts to the left. I didn’t do a full Shabari design on Jethro. His outer hand and foot are simply tied to the bed with tight knots. The only part of him tied with any finesse is the arm and leg wrapped with Sora’s. There’s no slack. No give. He’s trapped where he is. At my mercy.

For years, I’ve dreamed of tying Jethro up and slowly torturing him. I just never imagined him naked in those scenarios. Those dreams ended with me killing the fucker, notf—Nope. Not going there.

I turn all my attention on Sora, pick up a feather I got out of the dresser earlier, and trail it between the lines of rope that wrap around her body. She quivers at the light touch and pinches her lips between her teeth.

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