The morning sun was golden and ruthless, spilling through the high windows of the master bath as steam curled around Maddie’s bare shoulders.
She stood beneath the rainfall showerhead, eyes closed, letting the hot water kiss her skin, rinse away the night. But no amount of water could erase the way Celeste’s eyes had looked—wide, stunned, needy—as Maddie left her trembling on the sheets.
Maddie had won.
But that didn’t mean the game was over.
If anything, it had only just begun.
Celeste didn’t show herself all morning.
Lucien paced the hallways again, shirtless, brooding, the scent of cologne and frustration clinging to him like second skin. He didn’t speak to Maddie. Just watched. Burned.
Vanessa had retreated into her wing.
And Graham—
Graham was in the garden.
Quiet. Reading.
As always.
The calm eye in the center of the storm.
But Maddie had seen the way he looked at her lately. Longer. Slower. Not lusting like Cole. Not unraveling like Lucien. Not worshipping like Vanessa.
Just seeing her.
Evaluating her.
Like someone waiting until she came to him.
And for the first time in a long time… Maddie found herself wondering what he’d be like when he finally broke.
But she didn’t go to him.
Not yet.
She had another fire to tend first.
Celeste.
That night, after the house dimmed and shadows stretched across the long halls, Maddie returned to her room.
She expected solitude.
Instead—
She found Celeste waiting.
Not in bed.
Not begging.
But seated in the corner chair, one long leg crossed over the other, wearing nothing but a black silk robe and a diamond chain that dipped between her bare breasts. Her hair was down. Her eyes were sharp.
But different.
Calmer.
“Close the door,” she said.
Maddie did.
Then crossed the room, slowly, hips swaying. The night breeze toyed with the hem of her short slip dress—barely there, the color of honey and sin. She didn’t speak.
Celeste rose.
Stood directly in front of her.
“Last night,” she said, brushing a lock of Maddie’s hair behind her ear, “you taught me something.”
“What’s that?”
“That power isn’t always taken.” Her voice dropped. “Sometimes, it’s given.”
Maddie said nothing.
But she didn’t pull away when Celeste leaned in.
Didn’t flinch when soft lips kissed her collarbone.
“Tonight,” Celeste whispered, “I give it back.”
The dynamic flipped.
Celeste didn’t attack.
She offered.
She pressed Maddie back into the chair.
Lowered herself between Maddie’s thighs.
Not as a conqueror—but as a worshipper with intent.
Her hands were firm, practiced, sensual. No desperation. Only control. And slowly… oh, so slowly… she made Maddie melt.
Not because she forced pleasure—
But because she earned it.
Maddie bit her lip.
Gasped.
Curved her hips.
Let Celeste take her apart, one shuddering moan at a time.
But the real game?
Came after.
When Maddie, flushed and glowing, sat in Celeste’s lap, fingers tangled in her hair.
“You wanted to break me,” she murmured.
Celeste looked up.
“No.”
A pause.
“I wanted to belong to the one who couldn’t be broken.”
Maddie cupped her chin.
“Then you do.”
Later, as Celeste slipped out, barefoot and glowing, Maddie stayed behind. Wrapped in nothing but a sheet, skin warm and lips still tingling.
She stepped onto the balcony.
Looked down.
And saw Graham.
Seated by the outdoor fireplace.
Reading again.
But this time—
He looked up.
Their eyes met.
He didn’t smile.
Didn’t wave.
Just held her gaze.
Then slowly—
Closed his book.
And stood.
Without breaking eye contact.
He didn’t move toward her.
Didn’t need to.
His stillness said more than words ever could:
“I see you.”
“I know who you are now.”
And Maddie?
Maddie felt something stir in her chest.
Not the rush of conquest.
Not the thrill of power.
But the tug of something deeper.
Something dangerous.
Because Graham wasn’t chasing.
He was waiting.
For her.
XOXO
Maddie’s Page