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"Who says I can’t multitask?" he drawls.

"Less talking." I grunt, forcing my cock between his lips, hitting the back of his throat.

The scorching wetness of Jace’s mouth drags a guttural groan from deep in my chest. His lips stretch obscenely around me, tongue swirling with deliberate sloppiness that borders on filthy.

He hums around me and his hands remain obediently flat against my thighs, just like I taught him. But his fingers twitch. Desperate to grip, to dig in, to leave marks.

I don’t let him. Not yet.

"Such a greedy little thing," I murmur, my thumb pressing into the hinge of his jaw, forcing his mouth wider.

He adjusts instantly, throat fluttering around my length as he takes me deeper. His eyes are glazed, pupils blown wide, lost in that heady space where thought dissolves into sensation. Perfect.

Elias's voice cuts through the haze, low and teasing. "You're thinking about her again, aren't you?"

The cushions shift as he moves closer, settling beside me. His fingers trail up my inner thigh, dangerously close to where Jace's mouth is working me over. "That pretty little gasp she makes when she’s surprised. The way her breath hitches when she’s trying not to beg."

A shudder rolls through me, and Jace moans around my cock, the sound muffled but eager. Elias’s hand finally closes around my balls, rolling them gently before giving a sharp tug that makes my vision blur.

"Tell me, Nate," he purrs, "did you imagine her on her knees like this? Did you picture her lips wrapped around you, just like Jace’s are now?"

I can’t answer; not with words.

My fingers tangle in Jace’s hair, yanking just enough to make him whimper, his throat tightening around me as he fights to take more. Elias’s free hand wraps around the base of my shaft, squeezing in time with Jace’s bobbing head, his grip just shy of too tight. The dual stimulation is maddening, the wet heat of Jace’s mouth and the rough demand of Elias’s touch pulling me in opposite directions.

"You walked away," Elias murmurs, his breath hot against my ear as his hand leaves my balls to tease lower, fingers pressing against the sensitive skin just behind them. "When you could’ve had her whimpering, squirming, begging for you to fill her up."

His teeth graze my throat, a sharp contrast to the slow, deliberate way he strokes me. "Would she have taken you like this, Nate? Would she have let you fuck her throat until she was choking on you, tears streaming down her face?"

Jace gags around me, his throat convulsing, and I can’t hold back anymore. My hips snap forward, burying myself deeper, and he takes me like a pro. His lips seal tight around me as he hollows his cheeks. Elias’s hand tightens, his thumb pressing against the underside, right where Jace’s tongue can’t reach, and the sensation is too much.

"Fuck—" The word is torn from my throat, and I can feel it; the moment where everything narrows down to the sweet torture of Jace’s mouth and the relentless pressure of Elias’s touch.

"Cum for us," Elias commands, his voice a dark caress. "Let Jace taste you. Let him swallow every last drop like the good boy he is."

My release crashes over me, hot and endless, and Jace swallows around me, his hands gripping my thighs hard enough to bruise. Elias’s hand never stops moving, stroking me through every pulse, drawing out the pleasure until I’m nothing but a trembling, gasping mess.

“Up,” Elias says, turning to Jace, who lets me slide from his mouth with a pout. He rises with the grace of a dancer, eyes still glazed, lips swollen and slick as Elias catches his jaw and pulls him against his body. “Taste.”

Jace complies willingly, letting Elias kiss him slowly and thoroughly before he’s tipped back toward me. He climbs into my lap and kisses me open-mouthed, my own taste still on his tongue. Something in me goes quiet and satisfied. Then the kitchen timer starts beeping, breaking the spell.

Jace jerks upright. “Shit—the pasta.”

He stumbles off, half-laughing, half-wrecked, and disappears into the kitchen, curls bouncing. The scent of garlic and steam follows him down the hall.

Elias stays beside me after Jace disappears into the kitchen. He retrieves his glass from the side table, but instead of drinking, he studies me for a moment.

“You know we can’t let this bleed,” he says evenly. “Not with her.”

I drag in a breath, force my voice steady. “I’m aware.”

“She’ll be difficult to replace if this goes wrong,” Elias says quietly. “Four weeks ago, she was provisional. Now the floor runs better with her here.”

He’s right, which irritates me almost as much as everything else about this situation.

“So we agree,” he says. “Strictly professional.”

I nod once. “Strictly professional.”