Page 76 of Obey

More than she could possibly imagine.

Her fingers slip between the open buttons, tracing the skin of my chest, and I have to resist the urge to pull her closer. Then she leans in and presses another kiss along my jaw, taking her sweet time with it.

It would take nothing to reach under that little dress and slide her panties to the—

“Pup.” Nate's voice interrupts before I do the very thing that I'm thinking about.

I glance toward the front, meeting Elias's black irises in the rearview mirror. He's watching me closely, and I know exactly what he's thinking.

Yeah. I fucking know.

Sloane's fingers are still resting against my chest, her mouth dangerously close to mine. It would be so easy to give in, especially when she's looking at me like she can't imagine why I'd refuse her.

But I know she'd hate waking up tomorrow wondering what happened between us, and I refuse to be another man who takes advantage of her when she isn't in a position to make that decision.

“Not like this, Sugar. Not tonight.”

She sulks, but she lets me guide her back onto the seat beside me. I tug her dress down over her thighs, trying not to think about how painfully hard I still am.

“Spoilsport,” she sighs, settling against my side.

I wrap an arm around her shoulders, and she makes herself comfortable as though she hasn't just put me through the most sexually frustrating five minutes of my life.

Fantastic.

I'm going to need a very cold shower.

eighteen

On Her Knees

We pull into the underground garage, and Sloane’s face is nestled in the crook of my neck, fingers playing with my chain.

Dropping her at home alone isn’t happening, so we decided that the penthouse is the safest option.

If I thought the car ride was uncomfortable, the elevator ride is pure torture. Sloane wraps herself around my waist like a koala, legs locked tight as she giggles against my skin like we’re sneaking in after curfew instead of rescuing her wasted ass from that club.

Nate looks ready to murder me, but I'd like to see him deny her, especially when she makes those tiny mewling sounds every time her lips touch my skin.

The doors slide open to reveal our floor, city lights streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows. Sugar gasps like it's the best thing she’s seen all night.

"Pretty," she says, the word blurring. "Like stars... but they're buildings."

Elias rescues me before I completely lose it, lifting her from my arms. She protests, squirming against his chest until his palm spreads across her back. Then she settles.

"You’re so strong, Elias," she says, her words muffled against his chest as she strokes his bicep. "Bet we could find better ways to use these muscles." Her cheek mushes against his chest as she adds, "Mmm, not as hard as you seem, though."

I have to cough into my fist to hide my laughter, especially when she looks down toward his dick in confusion and then wiggles her hips as if trying to check his hardness via osmosis.

Elias, to his credit, just flicks a brow, but I catch the flush climbing his neck as he carries her to the sofa. His hold adjusts automatically, one arm beneath her legs, the other firm across her back.

Nate returns from the kitchen, his silence a stark contrast to Sloane's fit of laughter as she dissolves into the cushions. He places a bottle of water on the table with a soft, deliberate thunk.

I kneel before her, sweep tangled strands from her flushed face. "Drink some water, Sugar."

Her eyes narrow, focus wavering. "Don't want water." Her hips shift restlessly against the leather, a movement so deliberate my pulse jumps. "What I need is for you to fix what you broke."

I'm about to laugh it off when she wets her lips and whispers, "You have to help me fix it."