Page 200 of Carnal Games

I hate when Kian and I have to let each other’s hands go, lest we give people a reason to gossip. A glance at him tells me he hates it too.

There’s a silver lining.

Every step I take reminds me of his belt spanking my ass.

Kian and I reach his sleek black car, which he’s driving today. I’ve learned he calls for his driver only when he has meetings in the city.

Like a gentleman, he opens my door and makes sure I’m buckled in the passenger seat before rounding to his side and getting behind the wheel. The moment we’re on the road, his hand captures mine and places it on his thigh without once lifting his eyes from ahead.

My heart is close to bursting from my chest.

Distracted by the width of his thigh and the hard muscles, it takes me a beat to notice we’re driving in the wrong direction. “This isn’t the way to the office.”

“I know.”

“Do you have a meeting I don’t know about?”

“No.”

I’m lost. “Where are we going then?”

“You will see.”

“If the suspense doesn’t kill me first.”

His lips twitch.

I need a glimpse of those sexy dimples.

We make a pit stop at a boutique to buy me a new pair of lace panties. I pick a random top just so the woman at the counter doesn’t think I’m a weirdo. Especially, when Kian pays the bill. Instead of letting me quickly duck into the changing rooms, he makes me wear it in the car while watching my movements with a feral expression.

Almost one hour later, past rush hour traffic, we make it onto a mildly crowded street. Parking on the side of the road, he unbuckles his belt, then mine. Ordering me not to move, he steps out and rounds the hood to my side.

I slip my hand into his and get out. “Kian?”

“Come on,” he says, locking his vehicle.

His intentions are zipped shut as we cross the road and take the sidewalk. I absently read the names of the local street shops. The stream of chattering customers walking in and out. Kian draws appreciative glances with his brooding magnetism.

Suddenly, he slows down in front of a shop, making me do a double take.

A tattoo studio calledInked Carnage.

I’m frowning in utter confusion when he turns me toward him and tips my chin. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes, love.”

A half smile curves his mouth, rewarding me with the dimple on his right cheek. Stroking the side of my face, his intense gaze makes my toes curl. “Did you like it when I marked you with my belt?”

“Yeah,” I whisper, clutching the lapels of his jacket. “I did.”

“I did too. I’m obsessed with the need to brand you as my property. My woman. I want my name on your skin permanently. So, if anybody dares to touch you, they know you’re mine. Will you let me ink you?”

A deviant spark lights my skin.

My body decides before my mind can. My pulse picks up, my nipples harden, and I lick my lips. Yanking him flush against my front, I succumb to the newfound desire. “Brand me as yours, Kian.”

Chapter Fifty-Two

---