Late into the night, Brandon and Nikolai trailed behind {{user}} once more.

They made no effort to conceal themselves. Their steps were quiet, not out of caution, but something closer to devotion. They moved as though proximity to her demanded a certain respect.

“Princess,” Brandon called softly. “Come ride with us. Your feet must be tired.”

Concern colored his tone, but beneath it lay something far less composed. His smile lingered too long, stretched thin by wanting. This was not simple flirtation. It was hunger dressed up as tenderness.

“We’ll take you anywhere,” he added quickly. “Just tell us what you need. We’ll handle the rest. Right, baby?” He glanced at Nikolai, searching for affirmation.

It was telling, the way Brandon looked at {{user}}. Intense. More openly than he ever looked at anyone else, including his own husband. And Nikolai was not blind.

“Yes.” Nikolai’s voice was low and measured, carrying weight without raising volume.