Page 252 of The Lies We Play

Her eyes flash because being forced to say it is torture for her, which is exactly why we need her to.

“Yes,” she breathes. “Please.”

That please nearly ends me.

Halston lowers himself between her legs.

I stay near her face, one hand braced beside her head, the other sliding into her hair. I watch him kiss her first. Not her pussy. Her thigh. Her hip. The crease where she is trembling. He takes his time because he knows patience will make her desperate, and because Halston has never known how to worship anything without treating it like it might vanish if touched wrong.

Then his mouth finally meets her.

Liv jerks beneath us.

“Oh fuck,” she gasps.

I kiss the sound from her mouth.

Halston licks her slowly, and her whole body reacts. Her back rises off the bed. Her hand flies toward him, but I catch her wrist and gently pin it gently beside her head.

“Let him,” I say against her lips.

“I am.”

“No, you’re trying to manage him.”

“I manage when overwhelmed.”

Halston hums against her, and her argument turns into a broken little moan.

My cock pulses against her stomach.

She feels it.

Her eyes drop between us, then lift to mine, hazy and bold in a way that steals my breath.

“Creed,” she whispers.

I know what she wants before she says it.

Still, I make her tell me.

“What?”

Her mouth opens.

She hesitates.

There is the microsecond. The moment when shame tries to step in and turn wanting into a joke. I see it. I hate it. I kiss her once, soft enough to remind her we are not here to punish her for needing us.

“What do you want, baby?”

Her eyes shine.

Then she says it.

“You. In my mouth.”

Halston groans against her pussy.