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H ere I am, in the thick of this depraved situation we’ve found ourselves in, yet my focus remains squarely on Hayes. The bloke’s always been too bloody sensitive for his own good—needing constant reassurance and affection lest he spiral into one of his moods.

Oh, sure, he hides it well. But when it’s just us, and he feels safe to let go, the poor bloke becomes a puddle of regret and melancholy.

With a soft sigh, I pull him into a searing kiss, desperate to ground him before he gets overwhelmed by it all. My free hand cups the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in those dark strands as I angle his head and deepen the caress. Hayes melts into me with a muffled groan, his lips parting eagerly to accept the insistent probe of my tongue.

Even as I lose myself in that heated exchange, part of me remains cognizant of Briar shifting between us. She twists, lips pulling off my cock with an audible pop, her torso angling until those plush lips can latch onto the thick length jutting from Hayes’ groin. The broken whimper vibrating against my mouth tells me the instant she takes that first exploratory swipe with her tongue.

“Easy, mate,” I murmur against Hayes’ kiss-swollen mouth, swallowing the tremulous hitch of his breathing. “I’ve got you. Just focus on me, alright? Keep those pretty eyes right here.”

Slitting my lids, I catch the way his throat works convulsively—the subtle dip of his Adam’s apple bobbing with each reflexive swallow. One of Hayes’ hands fists into the hair at my nape, clutching me close like I’m the only bloody anchor in this maelstrom of depravity.

And maybe I am, in a sense. The rest of the Order fucks mock his desperate need for intimacy and affection. Branding him as nothing more than a sensitive little bitch who craves validation to an embarrassing degree. But I’ve never had an issue indulging those softer needs—rewarding him with gentle caresses and reassurances whenever he gets overwhelmed by our work.

A tremor ripples through Hayes as Briar’s sinful mouth envelops the crown of his cock in velvet heat. His lashes flutter, thick ebony fans sweeping across those chiselled cheekbones while a full-body shudder wracks his frame. “Oh fuck…”

The words slither free on a fractured exhale, tongue darting out to wet his lower lip where I’ve worried the plush flesh raw. With my free hand, I reach between our bodies, curling callused fingers around the thick root of my own neglected erection. Several firm tugs has a bead of precum pearling at the slit, the slick fluid easing my strokes as I work my fist in a steady glide.

“That’s it, babe,” I goad, the endearment rich with seductive promise as I sway closer to blanket Hayes’ trembling form with the heat of my body. “Let her take care of you while I’m right here, yeah? Just breathe through it. I’m not going anywhere.”

As if in direct response to my command, Briar bobs her head in a sudden plunge, taking Hayes balls-deep in one sinful descent. The ragged groan punched from my partner’s lungs sears straight through me, a molten tendril of arousal lapping hungrily at my core. Because for as much shite as I give the poor bastard, watching him come undone is a rare and breathtaking occurrence.

Jaw slack, dark lashes spiking across flushed cheeks, and every rigid line of his body unravelling into pure ecstasy—Hayes is an absolute vision like this. One I intend to fully commit to memory before this twisted ritual reaches its inevitable, brutal conclusion.

To his credit, he manages to keep those hooded irises trained on my face as instructed. Even as Briar works her wicked sorcery with lips, tongue, and those deceptively dainty hands, Hayes fights to stay grounded in our shared connection. His cock disappears and reappears between those plump cushions in an unhurried glide, every obscene inch glistening with a fresh sheen of saliva each time she retreats.

“Bloody hell…” The words slur together in a rough rasp, Hayes’ gaze drifting half-lidded with a fresh wave of sensation. “It shouldn’t feel this fucking good, zlatko. Like I’m gonna die if she doesn’t stop soon.”

Despite the groan of arousal thrumming in my throat, I force a reassuring grin—all bravado and empty confidence meant to bolster his flagging reserves of control. “I know. I know, drag?. Just hang in there for me. I’ll make it worth your while once this is over, I promise.”

With my free hand, I angle Hayes’ chin up, thumb rasping across the shadowed curve of his stubbled jaw in a proprietary caress. “Look at me, Hayes. Tell me you’re still in there.”

Dark lashes sweep upwards at the gentle command, the fathomless depths of his stare pinning me in place like a specimen under glass. The level of raw vulnerability glittering in those swirling whisky-tinted pools sucker punches me straight in the gut, leaving me breathless. Because holy fuck, how can something so bloody visceral and intense radiate from one bloke in the midst of our debauchery?

I groan low in my throat, cock throbbing in my palm as a fresh flood of arousal scorches along every nerve ending. Unable to resist, I close the scant distance separating us, slanting my mouth over Hayes’ in a bruising kiss.