Amiyah shattered. Her body clamped down around my fingers, hot and pulsing, her breath catching on a strangled gasp that she buried into Calla’s shoulder. She shook against us, thighs quivering as I kept circling her clit,drawing out every last wave until she sagged back into the booth, boneless and wrecked.
Calla kissed her temple softly, the gentleness a sharp contrast to the filth she’d just spilled into her ear. “That’s it, sweetheart, perfect.”
I slowly slipped my fingers free, slick with her release, and brought them to my lips, before Calla grabbed my hand, licking Amiyah’s release clean from every last inch of my hands, moaning her complete satisfaction as she tasted her. My groan rumbled deep in my chest. “Goddamn.”
Amiyah watched on, eyes glassy and wide, looking from me to Calla like she couldn’t believe what just happened.
And Calla smiled, victorious, kissing me so I could finally taste Amiyah. “Now she’s truly ours.”
Amiyah was still trembling, her chest rising and falling in quick, shallow breaths. Her curls stuck to the side of her flushed face, her lipstick a little smudged. She looked like sin in human form, wrecked and radiant, and only we knew why.
I leaned back just enough to give her space, my arm brushing hers in a way that said I know. Calla stayed close behind her, one hand still resting casually on Amiyah’s shoulder as if she’d been whispering something harmless. But the smug little curve on her lips told the truth—she’d just orchestrated the dirtiest secret in that whole damn restaurant.
Amiyah’s thighs pressed tight together, trying to contain the aftershocks still rippling through her. Her hands smoothed her dress nervously, but the faint shiver in her fingers gave her away.
And then Lena’s laugh cut through, her voice carryingover the music. “Okay, okay, y’all looking way too serious over here!” She and Calil returned, balancing drinks.
Amiyah straightened so fast she almost knocked into me. “Oh—uh—hey,” she stammered, her voice an octave too high.
I bit back a smirk. She was trying so damn hard to look composed, to look untouched. But her pupils were still blown wide, her skin glowed, and I knew if Lena leaned close enough, she’d smell the sex in the air.
Calil slid into his seat across from us, completely oblivious. Lena dropped down beside Amiyah, setting a martini in front of her. “Girl, you good? You look flushed.”
Amiyah fumbled with the glass, taking a quick sip, her dimples flickering nervously. “I’m fine,” she lied, her voice barely steady. “Just… warm in here.”
Calla hummed low behind her, sipping her own drink with leisurely grace. “She’s glowing,” she said smoothly, like it was a compliment no one could argue with. Her fingers trailed down Amiyah’s arm in a way that looked casual, but I saw the goosebumps it left behind.
I shifted closer, pressing my knee to Amiyah’s under the table, subtle enough that Lena and Calil wouldn’t notice. Her eyes flicked to mine, panic and hunger warring in them, and I couldn’t stop the slow grin spreading across my face.
Because she knew.
Because we knew.
And the secret hummed between the three of us like an electrical current no one else at the table could feel.
Lena launched into a story about someone from work, Calil added his commentary, and the noise of their banter filled the air. But I wasn’t listening. Calla wasn’t listening.
Our focus stayed locked on Amiyah, caught in the crossfire of our attention, trying to sip her drink and laugh at Lena’s jokes while her thighs still trembled from the orgasm we’d stolen from her in plain sight.
My arm was draped across the back of the booth behind her, casual to anyone else—but a cage to her. Calla tilted her glass, her smile sharp and satisfied.
Amiyah kept her eyes forward, but I saw the faintest flicker of a smile tug at her lips. She wasn’t running, not anymore.
And that was the most dangerous part of all.
Dinner blurred after that. I couldn’t tell you what song the band played, or what Lena kept chattering about, or even what I ordered. All I knew was the heat rolling off Amiyah beside me, the way her body stayed wound tight even as she tried to look casual, and the smug calm radiating off Calla, sipping her wine like she’d just conducted a flawless symphony.
By the time the check came, Amiyah had finally stopped trembling, but her skin still held that glow, that just-fucked flush she couldn’t scrub off no matter how many polite smiles she gave Lena.
Calla stretched languidly, as if the night had only just begun. “We’ll walk you ladies out,” she said smoothly, her tone polite but leaving no room for refusal.
Lena beamed. “That’s sweet of you.” She slid out of the booth first, oblivious.
Amiyah hesitated, her eyes flicking to mine, then Calla’s. Her lips parted like she might argue, might find an excuse to stay rooted to that booth, but no words came. She just nodded, grabbed her bumbag, and followed.
We stepped out into the night air, cooler now, the glow ofstreetlamps bouncing off windshields. Lena and Calil were a few steps ahead, already caught up in easy banter. That left me, Calla, and Amiyah trailing slightly behind.
Calla took the lead this time, her heels clicking against the pavement as she glanced over her shoulder at Amiyah. “You held yourself well in there,” she murmured, her words meant only for us. “I’m impressed.”
