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Then, his lips move to my neck, sucking where my pulse races into his mouth. Ezekiel sucks my clit into his mouth at the same time, and it has me falling apart between them. Jeremiah’s hand barely contains my gasps as I come, arching into Jeremiah’s hand at my breast and Ezekiel’s lips around my clit.
“Will you make these same sounds for us later?” Jeremiah asks, licking circles into my skin.
Just the promise of all this happening again, and more, has me releasing a shuddering breath as I nod. Ezekiel gives me one last, long lick before grinning up at me from under the table. Jeremiah fixes my dress as Ezekiel stands and gets back into his seat. And not a moment too soon, because right as Jeremiah sits back, the curtain parts and the waiter enters, a plate in hand.
His brows furrow when he glances at me, and I picture how I must look. Slouched in my chair, my dress still in some sort of disarray I’m sure, and my lips red and swollen from kissing the two men on either side of me, but he doesn’t say anything about my appearance as he places the plate on the table before me. My hand is still shaking when I reach for one of the three small forks beside the cake.
“Aren’t you going to eat some, too?” I ask when neither of them reaches for a fork.
“Yeah, but you eat the biggest portion,” Ezekiel says. “You’ll need your energy for when we get back to the room.”
Before I can even say anything, Jeremiah chuckles. “Room? I think you mean the limo. We’re not making it home without fucking her on the way.”
Oh. My. God.
Suddenly, all I want is to be done with this cake, so we can leave.
