I wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. Just watches me with an unreadable expression, toying with his empty wineglass.
Haven takes a sip from her glass, briefly drawing my gaze. What I see in her eyes is so unexpected I give her a double take.
She’s openly staring at me, lashes lowered, such a sultry heat in her eyes that makes my cock twitch in my pants. Whatever the hell she’s thinking in that beautiful, broken brain of hers…I want in.
“Any ideas?” I murmur.
She shrugs, a diabolical smile tugging at her lips.
“You spent months making us beg. Making us crawl.” Her blue eyes bore into mine. “I think it’s your turn to get on your knees, Professor.”
JesusfuckingChrist.
Kai and I both shift in our seats at the same time. I thankfully manage not to tug at my pants like he does, despite how my cock swells at what she’s suggesting.
What’s left of my pride screams at me to refuse so I can retain some semblance of the control I’ve always clung to.
But control is what drove them away.
“I knew it.” Kai’s smirk is victorious. “We’re just a game to him. Always have been, always will be.”
I hold his gaze for a long moment. Then, without breaking eye contact, I reach for my napkin, dab my mouth, and set it on the edge of the table.
It drops to the floor.
“Excuse me,” I say dryly.
Then I slide under the table, my heart knocking inside my chest.
Christ, the tablecloth is barely long enough to hide me. And I’m way too fucking sober for this shit.
This is the most insane thing I’ve ever done, and I once garroted a man with my shoelace.
But when I see Haven’s neatly pressed together calves and pretty ankles, and Kai’s spread legs in their charcoal slacks, all my anxiety, incredulity, and hesitation shift into surrender.
I shuffle over and place a hand on each of their knees.
Haven’s breath catches, audible even under the table. Kai jerks away from my touch like I pinched him.
“What are you doing?” Haven hisses down to me.
“You asked me to crawl,” I murmur, brushing my lips against her knee as I slide my hand back onto Kai’s thigh. “So I’m crawling.”
Kai fumbles under the table, pushing my hand off his leg. “She didn’t mean?—“
“Shh.” I slide my hand higher up his thigh, grabbing his cock through the fabric of his slacks.
I’m rewarded with a stifled groan, and the feel of his dick stiffening under my palm.
When I slide my hand under Haven’s skirt, her hand shoots under the table to catch my wrist. “Bastian, please, there are people?—”
“Then you two had better shut the fuck up.”
I nudge open Haven’s legs and press my mouth to the inside of her thigh, feeling her tense at my touch. Her grip on my wrist falters.
“Fuck,” she breathes.
I work my way up Haven’s thigh, my fingers finding the edge of her underwear. She’s already wet—I can feel the heat of her through the thin fabric—and that knowledge sends a bolt of arousal straight to my cock.
