Maddie couldn’t stop thinking about it.
The greenhouse.
The warm, wet air. The press of moss and candlelight. The way Cole had taken his time with her, claimed her in secret, left her aching in all the best ways. Her thighs still tingled when she thought of his voice, that low, commanding growl—“You’re mine when the door’s locked.”
But it had been four nights since.
No key.
No note.
Nothing but silence and memory and a mounting, dangerous hunger.
That’s when she found it.
Hidden beneath her pillow, just like last time—but this one… this one was silver.
Sleek. Cold. With a small black ribbon tied around the end.
Her breath caught.
Because the ribbon smelled like something different.
Not Cole.
Sandalwood. Smoke. A faint trace of something darker.
Lucien.
She slipped out just after midnight. No shoes. A short black silk robe that clung to her curves and fell open easily. No bra. No panties.
Just bare skin and bold intention.
She crept along the stone path, feeling like prey and hunter all at once. The greenhouse glowed in the dark—moist, golden, alive. The door opened with a slow creak.
The air inside enveloped her instantly.
Heat. Jasmine. The hum of cicadas outside. Her nipples hardened against the silk. Every inch of her skin came alive.
But the space looked different now.
There were more candles this time—low and flickering, casting long, dancing shadows across the walls of glass. The bed of furs had been remade, fresh and neat.
And sitting beside it—
Lucien.
Not Cole.
Lucien, in an unbuttoned dress shirt, chest exposed, sleeves rolled to the elbow, pants snug on his hips. A glass of wine in one hand. A slow, dangerous smile on his lips.
“You thought it would be him,” he said softly.
Maddie froze.
He knew. Knew everything.
“You left the key.”
Lucien rose.
“No, darling. He left it. But he left it for me to give to you.”
She didn’t move.
“Why?”
Lucien stepped closer, wine forgotten on the table, his eyes locked on her.
“Because he’s not greedy.” A pause. “And he knows I’ve been watching.”
Maddie’s stomach flipped. Heat spread between her thighs.
She whispered, “From where?”
Lucien brushed a strand of hair from her face, fingers grazing her cheek.
“The cameras. The guest wing. The stairwell. And once… from that chair.” He nodded toward a velvet armchair tucked beneath a vine-covered arch.
“You watched us.”
“Every moment.” His eyes darkened. “And every night since.”
Maddie should’ve felt shy.
Instead, she burned.
“Did you touch yourself?”
Lucien chuckled. “Every time you moaned.”
She stepped closer now, close enough to breathe in his scent—clove, amber, heat.
“And now?”
Lucien’s voice dropped to a near-growl.
“Now I’m done watching.”
He cupped her jaw and kissed her—slow at first, exploring, tasting, his lips dragging across hers with maddening control. His hand found her waist, pulling her tight to him, letting her feel exactly how hard he was beneath his slacks.
It ignited her.
She grabbed his shirt and yanked it open, buttons scattering. He spun her around and shoved her up against one of the glass panels, the chill shocking her nipples into stiff peaks beneath the silk.
He pressed against her from behind, hand sliding up to squeeze her breast, then down to part her thighs.
“Wet already?” he murmured.
“I was wet before I even saw you.”
He pushed the robe aside. It slipped down her arms and pooled at her feet, leaving her bare, slick, trembling against the glass.
Lucien dropped to his knees.
And began to feast.
Tongue deep. Lips soft. Fingers spreading her open, teasing her clit with a slow, torturous rhythm. Maddie’s breath fogged the glass in front of her as her body bucked—his grip on her thighs the only thing keeping her upright.
He devoured her.
Until she came with a sob, clenching around nothing, thighs shaking.
He rose, kissed her neck, then bent her over the velvet armchair, her ass in the air, legs parted. She gasped when she felt his cock brush her entrance—thick, hot, already slick with precum.
“You ready, sweetheart?”
“Yes—”
But he didn’t push in.
Instead, he dragged the head of his cock along her soaked folds, over and over, teasing her until she was panting, nearly crying with need.
“Please, Lucien.”
He gripped her hips.
“That’s better.”
Then he thrust.
Deep. Full. Relentless.
Her cry echoed off the glass. The chair rocked with their rhythm. Lucien’s hands dug into her waist, guiding her back onto him, harder, faster, his pace merciless. She clawed at the cushions, biting her lip to keep from screaming.
He leaned forward, voice in her ear.
“You like being taken in a room full of glass?”
“Yes—oh, God—”
“Where anyone could see?”
“Yes—Lucien—please—”
He pulled out suddenly. Spun her around. Lifted her into his arms.
Carried her to the bed of furs.
Laid her down like she was breakable.
Then fucked her like she wasn’t.
Hard. Deep. His hand wrapped around her throat, just enough pressure to make her tremble. She clung to him, legs wrapped around his waist, breasts bouncing with every thrust.
Their sweat mixed with the steam of the greenhouse.
Their moans filled the air.
She came again.
He followed.
And they collapsed together in a tangle of limbs, breathless and stunned.
They lay there for a long time.
Lucien’s fingers stroked her arm.
Maddie turned to him, dazed. “Did he… really leave the key?”
Lucien smiled, a little wicked. “He did.”
A pause.
“Will he be… upset?”
Lucien kissed her softly.
“Not unless you tell him what you screamed.”
Maddie laughed, half-ashamed, half-thrilled.
Because tonight, she wasn’t just watching anymore.
She was wanted.
And for the first time… she knew exactly how to play the game.
XOXO
Maddie’s Page