Page 9 of Sexting my Bratva Daddies

“Oh.”

That almost silent puff of air against my finger once again told me so much about Peyton that she did not realize.

She was not one or the other when it came to her sexuality but someone still finding their way.

I kissed her cheek and scooped a dollop of whipped cream from the lemon pie I’d ordered for later once the sweetness became overbearing. “What do you say? Shall we indulge?”

When she nodded, I slid my hand along the back of her neck, angling her head to the side and painting her neck in whipped cream.

Her pulse fluttered beneath my hand, a low, keening sound matching the way she shifted in her seat and telling me she’d already become aroused.

I licked the whipped cream from her pulse point, then kept going, licking a trail up to her ear and pulling the lobe into my mouth.

She gasped, her fisted hands tightening in her lap.

We had all night, and I planned on making use of every single second.

One of the many perks of owning shares in the club and this room, in particular.

Sex was not meant to be rushed, and the three of us had waited a long time for tonight.

The fact that we’d been talking to Peyton this whole time only made it better.

4

PEYTON

What was I doing? The thought tried to take hold, but then Leonid sucked on the side of my neck and an unholy sound of desperate need rushed out. His hand settled on my thigh, then moved upward.

“Do you want this?” Viktor stared at me from across the table.

Even through the lusty haze, I understood the importance of the question. “Yes.” I’d never done anything this bold or reckless. It was an absolutely terrible idea to sleep with them.

But hell.

When would I ever have another chance like this?

Never.

They were attractive and Leonid all but insisted that they wanted to be with me despite my working for them.

Viktor stood, and my nerves went on high alert. Power radiated from him like heat from a volcano.

They had all the power here, and the imbalance should have terrified me.

Instead, my core tightened and my clit throbbed. I tried to press my legs together to ease the ache, but nothing helped. I needed more, not less.

Viktor unbuttoned his suit jacket and shrugged out of it, then his white shirt and undershirt.

Holy shit. My cheeks heated, but I was beyond caring as I drank in the sight of his sculpted abs and broad chest. I’d known they were ripped, but this?

My brain short-circuited.

Mikhail followed Viktor’s lead, stripping to the waist.

Both left their pants on, and that needy sound erupted from me again that I’d been denied seeing all of them.

Then again, I still wore my dress, even though it had hiked its way up past my ass.