Chapter 41
Chapter Forty-One
Sophie
The penthouse doors close behind us, and neither man touches me.
That may be the most unnerving thing either of them has done all night.
Caleb removes the decryption card from inside his tuxedo jacket.
“Before anything else,” I say.
His mouth curves. “We remember.”
He crosses to the study and presses his palm against a concealed panel. A section of the wall slides open, revealing a steel safe.
I follow him.
Caleb places the card inside the empty compartment and closes the safe. Then he crosses to the secured terminal at his desk and brings up a blank authorization field.
“Set a code.”
I blink. “What?”
“For the archive. Six numbers only you’ll know.”
I glance at Lucian.
He doesn’t look thrilled.
But he doesn’t object.
I enter six numbers.
“The archive requires Lucian’s credentials, my biometric authorization, and your code.”
I stare at him.
“All three of us?”
“All three.”
Something tight inside my chest loosens.
Not words.
Not promises made because everyone is still flushed with victory.
Access.
Trust.
A place for my hand on the lock.
Lucian stands near the bar watching me, his tuxedo jacket still perfectly arranged, though something about him has changed.
Or maybe something about all three of us has.
I turn toward him. “Are you angry?”
“No.”
“You look angry.”
“I’m recalibrating.”
That nearly makes me smile.
“Because the archive won’t open without me?”
“Because you were correct.”
“That must be painful.”
“Excruciating.”
Caleb closes the concealed panel.
Then the air changes.
His gaze drops to my mouth.
Lucian slowly removes his owl cuff links and places them on the bar.
My pulse begins to race.
Neither man moves toward me.
I look from one to the other.
“What?”
Lucian’s eyes remain on mine.
“You heard me downstairs.”
“And now you choose what happens next.”
The words return with startling force.
I swallow. “You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
Caleb leans one shoulder against the wall. Desire is written plainly across his face, but his hands remain at his sides.
“If you want the night to end here, it ends.”
I turn toward him.
“And if I don’t?”
“Then tell us.”
The room becomes very quiet.
No audience.
No father’s debt.
No bargain.
No vows already arranged by the time I learned they existed.
Just two men waiting.
Wanting everything.
Taking nothing.
My heart pounds so violently that I’m sure they can hear it.
I cross the room to Lucian.
His gaze tracks every step.
When I reach him, I place my hand against the front of his shirt.
Muscle shifts beneath my palm.
Still, he doesn’t touch me.
“What are you waiting for?” I whisper.
“Your choice.”
The answer nearly undoes me.
I curl my fingers into his shirt and pull him closer.
His control fractures in his eyes.
Only there.
Only for a second.
“I’m choosing how we celebrate.”
Lucian’s hand lifts to the back of my neck but stops before making contact.
“Choose.”
So I kiss him.
There is nothing tentative about it.
I rise onto my toes and press my mouth to his, taking the first contact for myself.
For one suspended heartbeat, he lets me lead.
Then his arm closes around my waist.
Lucian kisses me with all the hunger he has held behind perfect manners all evening, and I feel the difference immediately.
Not because he is taking.
Because I gave.
The realization sends heat through every part of me.
When I finally pull away, both of us are breathing harder.
Caleb is still watching.
Waiting.
I turn toward him and hold out my hand.
Something changes in his face.
He comes to me.
I catch the lapel of his tuxedo jacket and tug him closer.
“Your turn.”
His hand cups my jaw.
Caleb kisses differently.
Lucian commands even when he waits. Caleb holds himself back as though he is afraid his strength might reveal too much, then loses that restraint the moment I lean into him.
His other hand settles against my bare back.
Warm.
Certain.
I break the kiss long enough to breathe.
Caleb’s forehead rests against mine.
“You’re ours,” he says quietly.
The words should bother me.
Once, they would have.
Instead, I slide my hand around the back of his neck.
“And you’re mine.”
Silence.
Caleb’s fingers tighten against me.
Behind him, Lucian releases a slow breath.
I look between them.
Emotions move through me fiercely… Want, trust…
I take Caleb’s hand with one of mine and Lucian’s with the other.
The bedroom doors are already open.
Vegas—the city we just won in—is bright and sparkly beyond the glass.
I stop in the center of the room and turn while Lucian and Caleb fill the doorway, waiting.
“Keep your clothes on,” I say. “I want to wear my dress. I walked out of that salon as the woman who beat Voss at his own table. I want you to take me like that.”
Lucian’s gaze travels over the modest front, the bare back, the silk that hides nothing if anyone stands close enough. “You want us while you are still wearing the dress we chose for tonight?”
“Yes.”
Caleb’s mouth curves. “Then tell us where.”
I tip my chin toward the windows. “There. I want to see it.”
Lucian turns me to face the glass. Caleb gathers the skirt and draws it up until I am exposed to the city and to the woman in the reflection: midnight fabric, two men in black, my rings catching the light.
Caleb slides a palm between my legs and uses two fingers to part me. “You were already like this downstairs.”
“I know.”
“Good. I wanted to hear you admit it.”
I look at them in the glass. “I want to be on my knees. I want to put my mouth on you while you are still wearing those tuxedos.”
Lucian laughs once, quiet and dark. “As you wish, wife.”
I drop. The gown pools around me. I unfasten Lucian first, then Caleb, and take them in turn until my jaw aches and both of them are breathing like men who have forgotten how to negotiate.
“Sophie,” Lucian says, wrecked. “Stand up before I forget every manner I have left.”
I rise because I want to.
Caleb turns me back to the glass and sinks into me from behind on one long thrust. The stretch punches a cry out of me. Lucian drops to his knees in black tie, hooks my thigh over his shoulder, and puts his mouth on my clit while Caleb fucks me in deep, measured strokes.
I come against the window with a sound I cannot swallow.
They do not let me collapse. Lucian lifts me, and my back hits the cold glass. He hitches my thighs around his waist and drives home. Caleb steps in close, and I take him into my mouth because I want both of them at once in the only way I am ready for tonight.
Lucian’s forehead drops to mine. “Look at yourself. That gown. Those rings. You are magnificent.”
Caleb’s hand cups the back of my head. “You feel like victory. Do you have any idea what that does to me?”
Lucian eases off my clit just before I break. “I want you on the bed. I want your wrists in our ties so you can stop thinking and only feel. If that is too much, say so.”
“It is not too much. Do it.”
Black silk around my wrists—tight enough to feel held, loose enough that I could twist free. Caleb kneels and drags his tongue through me. Lucian kisses me and pinches one silk-covered nipple, then soothes it with his thumb.
“Please,” I whisper. “I need you inside me again.”
Caleb pushes in. Lucian rubs my clit in tight, ruthless circles. “Let us see what tonight did to you.”
I shatter so hard the ties bite. Caleb follows with a groan. Then Lucian takes his place—slower, filthier—until I break again and he comes with a sound I will hear for the rest of my life.
They free my wrists and kiss the faint marks. They do not take the dress off. They lie on either side of me in ruined black tie, my gown twisted around my hips, the city still burning beyond the glass.
“Are you all right?” Lucian asks quietly.
I kiss him. Then I kiss Caleb.
“I am better than all right,” I say. “And I am not finished with you tonight.”
Caleb’s smile is a dark promise against my skin.
“Neither are we.”