The master key ring glints in Lucian’s fingers, catching the low amber light of the study lamp.
My throat goes completely dry as I stare at the heavy brass ring.
“The keys,” I breathe, my eyes glued to the glinting metal resting in his palm.
Lucian closes his long fingers around them, a low chuckle vibrating deep in his chest.
“Curious, little maid?
You look at this metal the way a starving person looks at food.” “I just want my passport,” I lie smoothly, keeping my voice soft and small as I let my body lean back against Vin’s solid chest.
“You said if I wanted something out of that desk, you would give it to me.” Shawn steps in close, his long fingers hooking under my chin and lifting my face up.
“We will give you whatever you need, Lyra, when you earn it.” Lucian tosses the keys onto the dark wood desk surface with a sharp metallic clatter.
He unbuttons his vest, his slate eyes burning into mine with an intense, dark hunger.
“Vin, hold her.” Vin’s heavy hands clamp around my waist, turning me back toward the desk.
The slick residue between my thighs is still warm, my body hyper-aware of every touch.
Lucian steps up behind me, his large hand sliding down my spine, lifting the skirt of my emerald dress back over my hips in one swift motion.
“You think you can just ask nicely and get what you want?” Lucian purrs against the back of my neck.
He does not use restraint, pushing his broad, thick head straight against my drenched entrance.
I gasp, my hands gripping the edge of the mahogany desk.
He drives himself inside me in one firm, brutal stroke, stretching me completely full.
“Lucian,” I whimper, my head tossing back against Vin’s broad shoulder.
“Tell me what you want,” Lucian commands, his hands digging into my hips as he establishes a deep, punishing rhythm.
Every slam of his body against mine shakes the heavy desk, the brass keys clattering softly with each stroke.
“I want you,” I sob, completely surrendering to the physical high.
Shawn leans down over the desk, capturing my mouth in a filthy, deep kiss while Lucian pounds into me from behind.
Shawn’s fingers stroke my swollen clitoris, pinching the sensitive bud until my thighs shake violently.
Vin leans over us, his broad chest covering my back, his hand coming down to grip my breast through the damp green silk.
“Listen to her,” Vin grunts, his thumb rubbing over my hardened nipple.
“She bleeds sweet moans for us.” Lucian’s pace turns relentless, his strokes quickening, driving deeper into my core until my inner walls clamp around him in a tight, desperate spasm.
The explosive wave hits me like a freight train, my back arching violently, my cries muffled inside Shawn’s mouth as my body releases its peak.
Lucian lets out a low, dark growl, thrusting three more times before flooding my warm center with his heavy release.
He stays buried inside me, his forehead resting against the nape of my neck, his heavy breath hot against my wet skin.
When he finally pulls out, my legs give out completely.
Vin catches me easily, lifting me into his arms and carrying me out the side passage back up to the master suite.
Conrad’s shouts echo from the main hallway below, but none of us pay him any attention.
Conrad is a dead man walking, his empire crumbling under the weight of Lucian’s financial takeover.
That evening, Shawn brings a heavy black garment bag into the master bedroom.
“Tomorrow night is the Blackwood Annual Gala,” Shawn says, unzipping the bag to reveal a breathtaking, backless black evening gown made of heavy French silk.
“The entire business elite of New York will be there.
Conrad thinks he is going as our guest to plead for his company.” Lucian stands near the fireplace, swirling a glass of dark water.
“Conrad isn’t going as a guest.
He is going so we can publicly announce the complete liquidation of his assets.” Lucian looks at me, his slate eyes cold and unwavering.
“And you are coming with us, dressed like a queen, to watch him fall.” My heart hammers in my chest.
The Blackwood Gala is tomorrow night.
That means tonight is my absolute last chance to retrieve the toxicology file from Conrad’s study.
Tomorrow, after the gala, the estate will be locked down by federal agents and auditors, and if the file isn’t in my hands, it could be lost in the chaos.
As night falls, the storm outside rages with renewed fury.
Rain lashes against the tall windows, and lightning illuminates the dark room in sudden flashes.
Lucian sets the brass key ring on the nightstand beside the bed before sliding beneath the heavy covers beside me.
Vin lies on my left, his heavy arm draped over my waist, while Shawn lies on my right, his hand resting possessively on my hip.
They hold me like a prized possession, locking me between their heavy, warm bodies.
I lie still in the dark, listening to the heavy, steady rhythm of their breathing.
Around two in the morning, Vin’s grip loosens slightly as he falls into a deep sleep.
Shawn shifts, his arm slipping from my waist.
Slowly, breathlessly, I slide out from under Vin’s heavy arm.
My bare feet touch the cold floor without making a sound.
I reach toward the nightstand.
My fingers brush against the cool metal of the brass key ring.
I hold my breath, sliding the smallest key off the wire ring, slipping it into the inner pocket of my silk robe.
I glance back at the bed.
Lucian lies still, his dark lashes resting against his cheekbones, his breathing slow and even.
I turn toward the bedroom door.
My hand grips the brass handle, and I slip out into the silent, pitch-black hallway.
It is time to end this.
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