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."
