Page 65 of Theirs to Tempt: The Marriage Claim

“Just stay with me.”

He traces the hem of my dress, then lifts it just enough to expose the sensitive skin at the tops of my thighs.

Caleb joins him, his larger hand cupping one of my ass cheeks, squeezing gently.

Then he delivers a shocking series of light, teasing spanks.

Each lands with a muffled thud, the impact vibrating through me without a true sting. I’m not sure how that’s even possible, yet every contact gives me a jolt of pleasure.

I am appalled by how my body reacts, seeking more despite the humiliation burning in my chest.

My pulse thunders in my ears, matching the faint thump from the dungeon, every nerve alive to the way their hands map me—slow, deliberate strokes interspersed with those gentle swats.

Lucian’s fingers trail higher beneath the raised hem, brushing the crease where my thigh meets my ass, so close to where I ache yet never quite touching.

The denial heightens everything, my breath coming in full, rhythmic pulls.

Microthoughts flash through my mind, telling me I should fight this, I should demand they stop, yet I remain arched and exposed for them, my body humming with need they are deliberately stoking.

They continue the gentle play for what feels like endless minutes, hands roaming, voices murmuring approvals and descriptions of how beautiful I am even in my anger.

Caleb gives me a few more light spanks, each one building the ache between my legs until I am desperate, my hips rocking subtly in search of friction that never comes.

The scents of the room—leather, their power, my own arousal—overwhelm me. My skin feels electrified, every touch amplified by the mirrors reflecting my arched form back at me from multiple angles.

Just as the need crests, sharp and demanding, they step back.

The sudden absence of their hands leaves me trembling, empty and aching, my core clenching around nothing.

They deny me completely, no touch to push me over the edge, only their low voices praising my obedience while an orgasm remains frustratingly out of reach.

Frustration burns through me, tears of thwarted desire pricking at my eyes as they smooth my dress back into place. “That’s it?” I demand.

“Fuck me, Sophie.” Lucian brushes my hair back. “You’re perfect.”

How is that an answer?

I’m stunned when Lucian sprays down the bench, and Caleb straightens his sleeves before shrugging back into his jacket.

“That was enough for a first exploration.”

They guide me from the private room, out of the club, and back to my apartment.

Inside, he raises the hem of my dress again, bunching it at my waist, exposing my lower body to their hungry gazes.

“So perfect… So perfect for us in every way.” Lucian tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering on the sensitive shell, the touch sending one last shiver through me.

His midnight eyes hold mine with silent command. “Thirty minutes from now, go into your bedroom, strip, and get yourself off for us. Show us everything. We want to see every beautiful detail.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Lucian

Dear fucking God, she is perfect for us.

The evening was everything we hoped for.

There will come a day when we’ll engage in a full-on scene, and she’ll give us her unguarded responses.