Elion sighed and leaned back in his chair, trying his best to resist the stimulation.
"I don't need babysitters."
Ophelia's lips twitched into a faint, knowing curve, her gaze dropping to his mouth, imagining it latched onto her nipple, sucking hard while she ground against him. "Of course not."
"But," Esme said softly, "we do need a future."
The weight behind those words lingered.
Elion glanced at the untouched plates in front of them.
Elion's gaze flicked to their neglected plates, the food cooling while their bodies burned. "You're not even eating," he noted.
Esme's smile bloomed, slow and sultry, her thighs rubbing together. "We're not hungry."
Ophelia's gaze sharpened playfully.
"At least, not for that."
Elion picked up his drumstick again and took another calm bite.
"Sit properly," he reminded them without looking up.
They did.
But the looks on their faces did not change.
