Page 373 of End Game

Micah shrugs. “You're good.”

That's it.

No existential crisis.

No weird male panic.

My pussy is apparently a reason for a diplomatic summit.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

Then Micah's fingers close around my chin. “Eyes up, Princess.”

My gaze instantly snaps to his.

Ronan goes still next to me—just watching.

Micah glances at him before he brushes his thumb over my bottom lip. “You've been enjoying all this attention, haven't you?”

“Yes.”

“What was that?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Ronan inhales.

Fuck.

Micah smiles. “Good girl.”

My knees almost give out.

Griffin's hand catches my waist. “Fuck, baby.”

I turn my head toward him. “What?”

“You really do react to him.”

Micah laughs quietly. “So does Dex.”

“Not helping,” I mutter.

Micah pulls me closer and kisses me again.

There is nothing cautious about it.

When he releases me, Ronan's mouth immediately finds my neck.

“You've been holding out on me,” he murmurs near my ear.

“I have not.”

“I haven't watched this.” His fingers trail down my side.

Micah's eyes stay on mine.

“No,” I whisper.