Two downward sweeping swooshes, one smaller and tucked into the other.

“Pulse,” he said. “This symbol depicts a heart that beats for another. Also, Liviana.”

I was finding it hard to breathe, hearing his words, having this further demonstration of his love for her, as he pushed his body farther away.

Arching, he pressed my hand to the skin of his stomach and slid it down toward his groin.

He flattened my hand under his, my fingers separated by his shaft, my palm teased by the hair above it. “But you will be here. And I will keep it shaved so I will see you there as I take you and you take me. And when you are inked there forever, it will be the symbol of ownership.”

Oh my goddess.

“Cass,” I breathed.

“I will not be the first Airenzian man who is owned by his woman,” he said thickly.

“I do not own you.”

“You do.”

“Cass.”

He shifted our hands, closing mine around his rock-hard cock.

I trembled.

All right, maybe I did own him.

“I will ink you elsewhere, Elena,” he vowed, his voice now throaty as his hand over mine stroked his shaft. “I will cover all that is blank with symbols of you, our girls, the children we will make, the life we will lead.”

Optimism.

Thank the goddess, he was sharing hope. Hope for us. Our girls. Our family.

The future.

“Yes,” I agreed readily, my body shifting greedily, pressing as best as I could to him. “Let me take you inside,” I murmured, needing that, and not caring where he wanted to be inside.

I would take it, adore it, worship it.

“No,” he grunted, and his eyes held mine captive. “Own it.”

“Yes,” I whispered, stretching to him to take his mouth in a deep, wet kiss before I moved slightly away and took what was mine.

I dropped my head.

Watching.

Cass’s hand tightening over mine deliciously.

I saw his movements, heard his noises, sensed his strain.

I reached in, he spread his legs for me, and I gently squeezed his sac.

He groaned, surged into our hands, and we both stroked his cock as he jetted his seed all over his stomach.

His hand fell away from mine, and I milked him as I massaged his sac until he made a noise in the back of his throat. I then released my hold only for Cass to pull me over him, my belly sliding over the wet at his.

When our faces were close, he sifted his fingers in the side of my hair and with his other hand clamped on the cheek of my arse, and he murmured, “You own me.”

Would I say it?

I would.

“You own me too,” I admitted.

He grinned arrogantly.

“Oh, I know.”

I frowned and narrowed my eyes at him.

He kept grinning as he stated, “You were surprised meeting Reginald. I have met his wife. He is lost in his love for her, and she rules their home. It works for them for he administers a prison, which is a great responsibility that is often a great burden, and it is a relief for him to come home and let his wife have the running of their lives, something she in turn enjoys.”