"In fact," he says, voice calm but edged in steel, "continue."
It doesn't sound like a suggestion.
Kayden chuckles low in his chest and pulls me tighter against him, his hands gripping my thighs with intent. "Well, you heard him. Colonel's orders."
I scoff, breathless. "Since when doyoufollow orders?"
Kayden's mouth brushes my ear. "When they suit me."
My eyes flick to Asher, drop to the hot chocolate between us, then rise back to meet his gaze. He's watching me, unreadable but present. When he smiles, barely a twitch of his mouth, it feels like a hook in my stomach.
"You can have your dessert," he says, voice dropping an octave, "when you finish."
His tone coils low and hot inside me, weaving into the fire already smoldering in my core.
And damn him, something about that calm authority makes me want to obey.
My body relaxes, surrendering against Kayden, and he doesn't hesitate. His fingers slide between my legs again. Still over the fabric, but firm, relentless, hitting every place that makes me shudder.
I close my eyes, a moan breaking free.
Kayden draws in a sharp breath behind me, grinding against me, aching, no doubt. To take me. To bite. But he doesn't. He holds back.
They both do.
"Eyes on me, Sage," Asher says quietly.
My eyes snap open.
Being watched by him while Kayden works me apart is mortifying. And yet… irresistibly erotic. His gaze pins me, calm and exacting.
The pleasure crests, rising sharp and fast. Kayden's teeth find my neck. No bite, just a graze, a ghost of what he's holding back. My whole body's trembling, coiled.
And then—
Asher gives a single nod.
"You can come."
My body obeys like it was waiting for him.
The orgasm crashes over me, fierce and uncontrollable, a shudder tearing through me as I fall apart in Kayden's lap.
"That's it, sunshine," Kayden murmurs, his voice wrecked.
The aftershocks ripple through me as Kayden slowly loosens his grip, keeping one arm wrapped around my waist like he's reluctant to let me go. My body's still trembling, heart pounding like I ran a marathon through fire.
Asher rises. Composed. In control.
He reaches for the mug without a word and dips two fingers into the cloud of whipped cream.
Then he crosses to me.
My breath catches.
He holds my gaze the entire time. The whipped cream drips faintly from his fingers as he raises them to my lips.
"Open," he says, voice low.
