“That’s just sleeping with extra steps.”
“It is not—”
“Kieran.” Malrik’s voice cuts through. Calm. Commanding. “Sit down.”
Something flickers in Kieran’s eyes. A thousand years of power, and he still responds to Malrik’s authority. Because he wants to. Because it’s easier to let someone else direct when you’ve spent centuries directing yourself.
He moves to the armchair by the window. Settles into it. Long legs spread. Golden eyes fixed on us.
Watching.
Always watching.
“Don’t stop on my account,” he says.
“Wasn’t planning to.” Malrik pulls Finn up onto the couch beside me. “In fact… Kaia. Look at him.”
I turn my head. Meet Kieran’s gaze.
He’s already hard. I can see the outline through his thin linen pants. His hand rests on his thigh, inches away from where he wants to touch.
“Touch yourself,” I tell him. “I want to see.”
His mouth curves. “Giving orders now?”
“Someone has to. Otherwise you’ll just sit there for hours.”
“I have excellent self-control.”
“I know. It’s annoying. Touch yourself, Kieran.”
He holds my gaze for a long moment. Testing. Waiting.
Then his hand moves to his cock. Presses down through the fabric. His jaw tightens.
“More,” I breathe.
He undoes the laces of his pants. Frees himself.
And gods.
Even after three years, the sight of him makes my mouth water. Long and thick and flushed dark, curving slightly upward like it’s already reaching for me. He’s big — they all are — but Kieran isintimidating. The kind of cock that made me nervous the first time and makes me clench now just looking at it. Heavy. Built like the rest of him — for endurance.
He wraps his hand around himself. Strokes once, slow and deliberate, base to tip, his thumb dragging over the head where he’s already leaking.
His eyes never leave mine.
“Like what you see?” Low. Knowing.
“You know I do.”
“Then keep watching.”
The bond floods with his want. Ancient. Patient. Burning.
“Keep watching him,” Malrik murmurs in my ear. “Don’t look away. No matter what we do to you.”
Finn’s hand slides between my thighs. I jerk.
