3. Cakes and Cuts
1332 Words
ASHELENE
"To my room," I said, grinding against Rhett, my p*ssy ached, begged to be filled. "I... I can't do everything I want to do to you both in public. That would get me arrested."
"I don't mind," Neon said, his fingers trailing behind my neck, yanking it back, exposing my throat to him. His teeth grazed my throat. "I could f**k you right here until you screamed our names... until you come all over the table. I will fill your cunt so well while Jacques watches and learns how to please a woman like you." His fingers trailed down the dip of my spine, and then he curled them around my thighs. Closer to my p*****.. "You smell delicious, and I want to drink you. All of you. Now."
I shuddered as Rhett dug his fingers into my hips, his breath coming fast and hard, his nose buried in my neck.
He let out a low, painful moan. "Let's f*****g go. If I sit here another second, I will come in my pants."
I laughed lightly, but nerves fluttered low in my belly as we stood. Both men kept their hands on me like they were afraid someone else might try to claim me. The night air hit my skin, cold and sharp, as we walked down the cobblestone street toward the parking area.
My rental car came when the valet drove it—a sleek, midnight-black Peugeot 508. Stupidly expensive-looking.
Neon whistled. “Damn. This is some fancy shit.”
“I have… questionable tastes,” I muttered, shaking my head.
Rhett slid into the driver's seat, adjusting it for his size. Neon got into the back with me, legs wide, arm thrown over the seat like he owned the whole damn vehicle already.
When Rhett heard where were going, he blinked. “You stay at BelleVeu? We stay there as well.”
I nodded. “I—yeah. I’ve been here a few weeks."
"Why have I never seen you?" Neon asked, his finger tracing the line of my outfit, dangerously close to my p****y, but never close enough.
"I don’t… really go out much." I frowned. I had been locked up inside for days, and then when mood struck, I usually wandered at midnight like a freaking ghost.
“That,” Neon said when Rhett stoopped the car, stepping out and circling around to open my door with an exaggerated flourish, “is an absolute tragedy, my darling damsel.”
He offered his hand like I was royalty. I really was, but he didn't have to know it. I took it.
"I am no damsel," I said...
"But you look to be in distress..." Neon said, adjusting my scarf like it was the most natural thing to do. “This is Paris,” he continued as we walked through the revolving glass doors. His voice softened with a kind of reverence that made me pause. “People cross oceans to walk along the Seine, to taste a single bite of a perfect croissant when the sun is just out, to breathe the twilight air here. And you’re hiding away in a room?”
"Yes..."
"He has a point," Mei said.
"I know."
He scoffed. “Mon dieu. To miss all this beauty…”
“I know,” I murmured. “At least I’m glad I went out tonight. Or I wouldn’t have met either of you.”
Rhett’s voice came from beside me—low, curious. “So why did you go out tonight? What changed?” I hadn't even heard him coming up behind us. He was stealthy like a cat.
I swallowed. “Because it’s Christmas Eve. And… because it’s my birthday.”
Neon froze mid-step. “Votre anniversaire?” He turned fully toward me, eyes brightening with mischief and something else—something soft. Something one should probably not have for their one-night stand. I also just realized... while I knew their names, they might not know mine. They never asked, I never bothered to tell. “We need cake.”
“No,” I laughed, shaking my. “I really don’t do cakes.”
Neon gasped dramatically. “Everyone does cake. It’s a rule. It is the law, bella.”
“It’s… just a thing,” I said with a shrug. “I don’t like people making a fuss.”
“Oh, too bad," he said. Neon’s grin was wicked as he hooked an arm behind my waist and guided me forward. “Because I’m absolutely about to make a fuss. A big one.”
I had no idea when a would-be tumble in the bed for one night steered toward birthday conversation, but I was absolutely floored. What was this wolf? Who was this wolf?
I was getting intrigued, and it wasn't even about lust anymore.
"Come now. Even Rhett agrees with me for once in his life, don't you, Rhett?"
Rhett gave a nod, which was a slight bit hesitant, as if he didn't share the same idea of Neon.
A quick, dirty, filthy tumble in the bed is one thing. But a birthday cake... is a different matter altogether.
"Let's go. Let's go."
The lobby of the hotel stretched before us—rich cream marble veined with gold, chandeliers dripping like crystal rain, warm amber lighting softening every edge. The air smelled faintly of vanilla, pine, and something decadent—like warm brioche.
It felt like stepping into a fantasy. A silent, expensive one. I never took time to look around or watch how it glittered in the night.
Neon led me toward the pâtisserie tucked beside the grand staircase—its glass display glowing with rows of delicate cakes, glossy pastries, and perfect seasonal desserts dusted with edible gold.
The woman behind the counter straightened when she saw Neon. “Monsieur,” she greeted Neon warmly, as if she had known him for a long time. He gave her a smile. “Encore?”
“Something special tonight,” Neon said, nodding toward me. “It’s her birthday.”
My cheeks warmed.
Rhett leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching me like I was more interesting than anything in the room.
“You really don’t do cakes?” he asked quietly.
“Not usually.”
"Why not?"
Because... my birthdays were always bigger than just cakes. It is balls, political meetings and... things normal people didn't have.
“Well,” Neon murmured, brushing a lock of my hair behind my ear, “you’re with us now. And we will cut this cake tonight. We will eat cake before we eat you.”
I gasped. He winked. Rhett groaned.
It was becoming all too familiar.
He pointed at a small gâteau—dark chocolate mousse, raspberry center, topped with a single sugar-dusted rose petal.
"Do you like chocolate."
"I love it."
“That one,” he said to the woman. “And a candle. Do you write the name?”
She nodded, and he looked at me.
"Go ahead."
I smiled. "Is this your way of secretly vying for my name?"
"Of course, not. What kind of man do you think I am..."
"A very smart, sexy one." I turned to the attendant as she looked at me. "Ash."
"Ash..." Neon whispered. "That fits you."
When the attendant boxed it, Neon took the bag, then gently took my hand with his other, thumb brushing my knuckles in a way that made my breath catch.
“We’ll eat it in your room,” he murmured. His gaze dipped to my mouth. “And then we’ll give you a very different kind of birthday present.”
Rhett chuckled behind me, voice deep and full of promise. "He is right. It troubles me to agree with him, but yes."
Neon squeezed my fingers as we walked toward the glittering elevator. It had shiny glossy surfaces that reflected my flushed face, their dark, passionate gaze. “Lead us to your room, birthday girl.”
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- Writer
