Chapter 22

Ink agreed brightly, “I did,” and kissed him more, deep and tender this time, with a tiny nip at his lower lip at the end. His mouth tasted of jeweled fruit and sugar and dark sensual cocoa. “I think you should take advantage of this bed. And me.”

“We can do that.” The arousal had returned: not the earlier reckless drumming onslaught but a low quiet unfurling, a glow deep within and building. Ink wanted him; Ink wanted to stay. Ink liked everything they’d done. Ink liked him.

He said softly, “I could put you where I want you, if you want that…right here, safe and sound and warm in this bed…where you wouldn’t move if I didn’t want you to…” No pain this time, nothing that’d sting. Orders, though: yes.

“Yes,” Ink echoed, and those ears perked up more. So did his luscious cock, stiffening and interested, fitting nicely into Aidan’s hand for a stroke or more. “Yes.”