17. Dingo
SEVENTEEN
DINGO
I could still taste her on my fucking lips.
Bloody hell, she was divine. Her taste was perfection, reminding me of all the times I’d taken pleasure between a woman’s thighs and left her sated. But somehow, the women in my past couldn’t compare to the one who’d dared to take my choice, my consent, away from me, who demanded her pleasure even if I were unwilling.
I mean, I was willing. More than willing. If I were to die here tonight, I wanted to at least do it with the taste of a woman on my tongue.
And fuck me, what a woman to taste.
I’d never seen such a specimen of womanhood and insanity wrapped into the same package. Her curves, her dominance, her confidence, and the way she demanded a performance from us?—
My cock had been harder than a damn diamond. And all she’d done for the poor thing was hover atop it and accidentally brush her hand against it as she leaned forward and reached for Coyote.
Fucking Coyote.
Bastard kissed her like his world was ending–which, to be fair, we’d been threatened with as much. But hell, according to Jackal, the man had little to no experience with the opposite sex. So where had he learned to kiss like that?
Frankly, I was a little jealous. As good as her pussy tasted, I wanted to know what it felt like to have her tongue invade me like I’d used mine to invade her.
She left a trail of arousal across my chest when she slid off the table, and damned if I didn’t want to drag my finger through it and lick the fucker clean.
“Are you curious about what punishment you’ll get, Jackal?”
Her head tilted to the side like a curious dog, and she laughed when Jackal tried to pretend he wasn’t interested in anything she had to say. I mean, fuck, I couldn’t even see that well from my angle, but even I could see how fucking horny he was for her. He hadn’t stopped looking at her pussy since she squatted in front of him and bared it to his lecherous eyeballs. His tongue was practically hanging out of his mouth, he was so worked up and desperate.
I wondered how long he’d keep the tough guy act up.
Or even if he could.
“There’s no greater punishment than sitting here listening to you act like you’re some fucking harbinger of doom. Christ’s sake, bitch, could you be any more annoying?”
Oh, good. He’s still lively.
Ivy seemed to consider this reaction for a second before her hand darted out and connected with the side of his face. The resounding slap echoed around the room, rendering us all speechless.
Jackal’s jaw ticked, and he grinned with the half of his mouth still smarting from the assault. “Well, bitch has a mean right hand, too. Too bad you’re so revolted by us. Lilly would love you.”
She frowned in confusion, rubbing the part of her hand that stung from the impact. “Who the fuck’s Lilly?”
“Our boss,” I contributed, my back tight from laying on this uncomfortable-ass table too long. “If you’re going to keep me strapped to this table, could you maybe flip me over or something?”
Her laughter was less maniacal this time, more honestly amused. She seemed genuinely taken by surprise at my audacity, and I couldn’t help but take pride in the reaction I drew from her.
I could be sassy when I wanted to be. Jackal wasn’t the only smartass in our group. He was just the bluntest, with the least tact or taste.
She shot a glare over her shoulder at me. “Your back pain will be the least of your worries soon enough; don’t worry, Dingo. ”
Jackal’s teeth snapped at her, coming within an inch of her still-outstretched finger. “Come a little closer, bitch. I bite back.”
“You don’t scare me, dog,” she snapped back, baring her own blunted teeth in response. “Bigger beasts than you have tried.”
That glint of teeth was so subtle yet dangerously lethal that it had me squirming atop the table, my eyes cutting as best as they could at Coyote, who was still standing, his hands clenched around the legs of the table where my feet had been bound.
For the first time in my life, I wished I was fluent in Coyote’s silent language he shared with Jackal.