Chapter 516: Praise and Permission
Tank didn’t wait for permission.
With a growl low enough to shake the stone beneath our feet, he stalked across the throne room, grabbed me around the waist, and threw me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing. "I don’t know about the rest of you," he said, voice rough with need, "but I need a bed for what’s coming next."
The others didn’t argue. Hell, they didn’t even blink. As one, they rush forward, their eyes on me like I was the Pied Piper.
Tank was not the most comfortable of all my men; all those muscles didn’t really allow for a lot of padding on his massive shoulders, so I squirmed, trying to get into a more comfortable position.
The hand landed on my ass faster than my brain could process and I froze at the feeling. "Stop moving around," Tank growled, his hand resting firmly on my ass. "Be a good girl, and we’ll get to the bedroom that much faster."
This time, I didn’t squirm. Didn’t scream. Just grinned, biting my lower lip as I let myself be carried through Hallow’s winding halls. My ass swayed with every step Tank took, even with his hand still firmly on it, and I felt the heavy tension growing tighter with each passing moment. My men were behind us—stalking like predators—but it was Tank who would strike first.
He walked through the doorway of the bedroom, the weird barrier between the room and the rest of the house completely black as it kept prying eyes out. Not like any strangers would ever be able to make it up here alive. With a grunt, Tank tossed me onto the bed like a ragdoll.
I bounced once, my hair fanning out around me, my dress pooling around my knees.
Tank didn’t waste time. Ripping off his own clothes, his eyes never left me even as he climbed on top of me. His large body blanketed mine as he stared down with the hunger of a man who’d waited far too long. "You glow, you know that?" he rumbled, cupping my cheek with a surprising gentleness. "Like firelight and sin. Makes a man want to burn."
"Then burn," I whispered, hooking my leg around his waist.
He groaned, then kissed me—deep, possessive, hungry. His hands roamed my body like he was mapping out sacred ground, and when his finger finally found my center, still soaked from Ronan, he slid the thick digit inside of me.