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“N-no, Daddy,” I stutter, trying to keep my focus on the frosting. It’s hard to think about anything but the throb between my legs.

He shoves his fingers deeper and I jolt, rocking the pan forward.

I grunt but focus on the third and fourth cupcakes even as a long moan exits my mouth.

Cole angles his fingers to press the pads of them against my G-spot and I cry out his name. Marcus devoured me like a starving man. Cole takes his time, like he paid good money for a front-row seat.

I’m on the fifth cupcake. They’re all nearly perfect.

Nearly.

If I want to make a perfect black-frosting rose for my wish, I’ll have to do better.

I bite down on my lower lip so hard it hurts as he delves his fingers deeper, in and out.

I keep going, biting down on my lip so hard I taste copper.

My orgasm builds in my lower abdomen, and cupcake number eight almost takes me out. I let out little breathy moans, rocking my hips back to meet the thrust of his fingers.

I rock my hips back and jostle the cupcakes, smearing one of the petals.

Cole stops again and I whimper.

“Keep it together, princess.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” I mutter, pressing back against his fingers, which are still buried to the hilt inside me.

Cole slowly removes his fingers and I huff out a breath.

“You think I’m doing sloppy work? You try it,” I mutter, and take the piping bag, drawing a line of black frosting on my inner thigh, just below the curve of my ass. “Lick it off.”

Cole gives me a slow smile. “It’s cute when you give orders.”

“Do it,” I order, and Cole grins wider, showing his canines.

“Yes, princess.”

He kisses my skin softly, almost sweetly, before licking along the frosting, using the flat of his tongue.

I shudder and then look down at his handiwork.

A slight line of frosting remains. “Now you’re the one who’s sloppy. Do it again.”

Cole groans low in his throat and licks me again, lapping at my sensitive skin until it’s all gone.

“Better,” I say breathlessly.

I go back to frosting, working on the ninth cupcake. Cole latches onto my clit again, his fingers pushing back into me.

“I’m so close, fuck,” I moan, my voice going thin and strained.

“Four to go, Margo. You can do it. Focus.”

“It’s hard to focus when your fingers are in my⁠—”

Cole adds a third finger. I jolt and nearly frost the counter, but manage to right myself.

“Fuck, Cole, make me come,” I breathe, the slight edge of a whine to my voice.