Page 54 of Filthy Rich Single Daddies

Theo's grin is a silent challenge, a predatory curl of his lips before he drops to his knees behind her. His head dips, and he vanishes between Skylar's thighs. The sound of her sharp inhale is nearly drowned by another rumble of thunder.

I bite down on my fist, to stop myself from groaning out loud. My hand shifts, fingers tightening around the hardness straining against the fabric of my pajama pants. The pressure is both relief and torture, grounding me in this moment where chaos reigns in my mind.

Theo's movements are deliberate, worshipful, as he indulges in Skylar's offering. He pulls back then, repositioning himself with his back against the mattress. He grabs hold of her thighs and throws his head back until it’s nestled snugly between Skylar's parted legs.

"Ride my face," he demands.

Her compliance is immediate. She moves over him, finding her position, taking control of his head.

From this angle, I can seeeverything. Every detail.

Those plush pink folds, the trail of moisture running down her inner thighs, and the way Theo's skilled tongue glides between her velvety lips.

I am a voyeur here, torn between the ache to join them and the weight of my own restraint. Every nerve ending screams for release, but it's the echo of raw need in Skylar's muffled moans that threatens to shatter my resolve.

I can't tear my gaze away. Theo's tongue paints a rhythm of pleasure on Skylar, each stroke a lightning strike that seems to ignite her very essence. Her moans pierce the air, each one luring me deeper, tempting me further.

"Quiet," Theo's voice is a low growl, punctuated by a sharp slap to her ass that sends a quiver through her body. "Or I'll stop."

"Don't you dare stop," she fires back, her tone threaded with defiance and desire, a challenge flung into the face of the storm.

Her muffled moans mix with the wet sound of Theo’s tongue dragging through her arousal are obscene. Fuck. Heat coils low in my stomach, sharp and insistent.

My dick is so hard I’m pretty sure a stiff breeze is enough to make me come.

Theo's dedication to Skylar's pleasure is a testament, something bordering sacred—a ritual that commands my undivided attention. His tongue dips lower, delving with precision as if he's mapping every secret inch of her, coaxing out the beads of desire that now glisten on his chin.

I should be anywhere but here, a voice in my head protests, a feeble attempt at honor in the face of raw need. But the crescendo of Skylar's moans wraps around me, binding me to the spot. The sight of her thighs trembling, the waves of her impending climax nearly tangible in the air—it seizes me, holds me captive.

She’s coming, and it's nothing less than cataclysmic. Her body arches, a bow drawn taut before releasing its arrow, her voice cracking the air like thunder. Each shudder that wracks her form etches itself into my memory.

The aftermath is tender, Theo's mouth gentle as he guides her through the aftershocks, licking her through it. He's an artist, I think, even as jealousy gnaws at my guts. Then, he lifts his head, eyes blazing with triumph, and catches me in his gaze. "Cohen," he says, his voice roughened by lust, "youneedto taste her."

Heat crawls up my neck, a flush of embarrassment.

"Fuck," I mutter under my breath, my heart thundering in my ears.

My feet shuffle backward, the instinct to flee is overpowering. The room feels smaller, the air heavy with a tension that coils around my spine. But Theo's voice cuts through the haze, a command wrapped in velvet.

"Stay, Cohen. We're just getting started."

It’s casual, the way he says it, like we're discussing the weather and not the unraveling of my self-control. I shake my head, trying to find the firm ground of resistance. My eyes flicker toSkylar, searching for an excuse, any reason to escape the spell she effortlessly casts.

Then she moves.

Her arm extends, her fingers splayed in an offering or a plea—I can't tell which. Her voice slices through my thoughts, every syllable laced with authority and something softer, something that makes my chest ache.

"Stay."

There is no way I could possibly say no to her.

Chapter 17

Theo

The hesitant shadow in the doorway doesn't escape my notice. Cohen stands there, a silent sentinel wrestling with an internal storm I know all too well. Desire and doubt clash in his eyes, and I understand how he feels.

But he doesn’t get my attention. Not right now. Not when this goddess, the woman of my fucking dreams, is naked and wanting.

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