KINGSLEY POV
My Princess was playing a new game tonight.
Or maybe I should call it what it really was—torture, designed by a goddess who knew exactly how to break us. And f**k, I was ready to be broken.
She was riding Kendrick like she was born to do it. Like she owned him. And judging by the look on his face, she did.
Kyle sat at the edge of the bed, eyes squeezed shut, fists clenched behind his back, trembling like a sinner at the gates of heaven. His c**k stood angry and purple, untouched, ignored, and punished. The tension rolling off of him was thick enough to cut. One moan too many and he'd snap.
Keegan lounged in a chair at the foot of the bed, one hand lazily stroking himself, eyes locked on her every movement. He looked like a predator in worship—obsessed, reverent, starved.
