“Would a release help you, baby girl?” Silas’s voice is smooth. Steady. Grounding.
Excitement builds in my core, and they haven’t even touched me yet. I slowly blink, soaking in the moment as I’m sure I’m soaking the leather of the booth seats.
I whimper as the thoughts of one of them sliding under the table plays in my head over and over again.
I grip Havoc’s arm as I move my stare to his white, tight sleeve shirt.
“We need to hear you say it, sweetheart.” Havoc’s voice is low, but my heightened hearing catches onto their voices as the noise of the restaurant fades to the background.
“Yes,” I’m begging, holding back another whine. Silas smiles so differently now, like there’s a secret between us at this table, and I guess there is now.
“But wouldn’t everyone in the restaurant smell it?” I ask worried. The restaurant is full, as it’s a Saturday night. With so many people here, my scent going sweet, incredibly sweet, they’d know exactly what we were doing and kick us out.
“Let us worry about that,” Silas says as his hand wraps around the back of Thorne’s neck. I watch his fingers squeeze his neck. Silas pulls him to kiss him. Their lips meet in a harsh kiss. One I could watch for hours. Then Silas rips Throne away and shoves him down his seat.
Thorne is gonna… he didn’t seem to like me. He’s barely talked to me. I—I don’t want him to—to, if he doesn’t want to. Absolutely not.
“If-if he doesn’t want to—oh,” I can’t even get the words out before I feel Thorne’s hands on my thighs. He grips my legs and guides them up on his shoulders, forcing me to lie back in the seat a bit, and presses his nose against my tights.
I’m so fucking glad I didn’t go with the jeans.
He presses his nose against me, and I can feel his breath through my thighs, but it isn’t enough.
I lean my head back, my right hand gripping Havoc’s thigh as his and Silas’s scents get even stronger. Our little bubble smells delicious and addictive, with dark coffee and white chocolate, and hints of cherry surround me.
“Oh my,” I moan. “More.” My eyes meet Silas’s dark brown ones as he stares at me.
“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you, Noa? Spread those legs for Thorne, baby, so that he can get closer to home. Come on,” he stops and grips the table as I squirm.
Thorne kisses me before he leans away, and I nearly whine at the cold that comes over my core.
“Patience, baby girl.” Silas’s voice eggs me on, and I arch my back trying to find some relief.
“Those pesky tights are in the way, aren’t they, Thorne?” Silas asks. “Get rid of them.”
I try to jerk my hips up, desperate to get them off, but Thorne holds me down, and his fingers are dancing up my thighs until he gets to the seam of my tights.
I yelp as he rips them, my panties too, his fingers immediately finding my entrance. His thumb plays with my clit as the tips of his fingers dip shallowly into me.
“Here, sweetheart,” Havoc says, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and offering me his forearm. I’m confused for a second. But then Thorne dives in, licking me straight up, and I bite Havoc’s arm to keep in my moan.
My teeth bite hard as Thorne goes deeper. Stroking my walls and curling his fingers. Sucking my clit, I try to move, practically attempting to hump his face, but he keeps my hips pinned, and the frustration of it gets me hotter.
My gaze travels from Silas down to where Thorne is under the dark table. I can barely see him over the bunch of my skirt, but his eyes meet mine, and I nearly fucking come.
“I’m so close,” I whimper. Havoc’s arm is a bandacross my arm, his arm unwavering despite my bite. Silas is whispering praise from across the table. My hands grip the leather seat as Thorne adds a finger.
He moves so steadily, back and forth, and my head wants to explode.
“Come for us, Noa, come now.” Silas’s low bark has me over the edge, and I come, my slick drenching my thighs as Thorne’s tongue works overtime licking it up. My legs shake as the aftershock runs through me.
I relax against the seat, my hand searches for Thorne’s. He let me take it, still kneeling under the table. I bring it up to my lips, kissing his fingertips, tasting me on them.
He winks as he shoves his fingers into my throat, and I let him. Sucking me off him. His eyes widen as his body jerks forward, knocking into the booth.
“Fuck,” he whispers, sliding his fingers out. I let them go with a pop, and I grab Havoc’s arm again, seeing my bite marks on him.
I attempt not to be proud of the damn marks. They aren’t mating marks as I didn’t bite that hard, but … my eyes met his as the realization dawned on me.
