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He adored the game of winding people in and popping whatever joy he had built up. The look of shock, hurt, betrayal—Shang Tsung couldn’t get enough of it.
Yet here was one man he wasn’t sure how much of that he wanted to play with. Or at least, he thought, he wasn’t going to let something like this one get away so quickly. Shang Tsung could play the long game if he had to.
He slid his slender fingers through Bi-Han’s hair and pulled his lips to his. They were cold and he wanted more.
All the ways he could toy with this man fired off in his mind as he felt Bi-Han’s possessive embrace. Here was a man who let his father die and betrayed his brothers. He was dangerous and exactly what Shang Tsung wanted. The games they could play with each other?
Shang Tsung could submit himself to another for a time if it meant a mounting danger and fun of cat and mouse.
“I’m yours to do with,” Shang Tsung whispered, coyly.