18. An Ambush

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• I AM YOURS TO PLAY   31. Love Or Lust

  Chapter 31: Love Or LustETHAN’S POVLucian’s thrusts were relentless, his grip on my hips bruising as he drove into me, the padded bench creaking beneath us. The red room’s crimson glow bathed his sweat-slicked body, his muscles flexing with every move. “Ju-just like that… daddy!” I gasped, my voice wrecked, pleasure and pain blurring into a haze. His hand wrapped around my dick, stroking fast, and I came hard, my release spilling over his fingers, my body shuddering.He didn’t stop, his growls commanding as he pounded deeper. “You’re fucking sweet,” he snarled, his voice thick with lust. He pulled out, his hand pumping his dick, and I felt the hot splash of his cum across my chest, my face, dripping down my skin. “That’s for being a naughty fucking boy,” he growled, his eyes dark, possessive. I panted, my body trembling, the words sinking into me, filthy and thrilling.We collapsed onto the bench, our breaths heavy, the air thick with the scent of sex and leather. My legs shook

• I AM YOURS TO PLAY   31. Love Or Lust

  Chapter 31: Love Or LustETHAN’S POVLucian’s thrusts were relentless, his grip on my hips bruising as he drove into me, the padded bench creaking beneath us. The red room’s crimson glow bathed his sweat-slicked body, his muscles flexing with every move. “Ju-just like that… daddy!” I gasped, my voice wrecked, pleasure and pain blurring into a haze. His hand wrapped around my dick, stroking fast, and I came hard, my release spilling over his fingers, my body shuddering.He didn’t stop, his growls commanding as he pounded deeper. “You’re fucking sweet,” he snarled, his voice thick with lust. He pulled out, his hand pumping his dick, and I felt the hot splash of his cum across my chest, my face, dripping down my skin. “That’s for being a naughty fucking boy,” he growled, his eyes dark, possessive. I panted, my body trembling, the words sinking into me, filthy and thrilling.We collapsed onto the bench, our breaths heavy, the air thick with the scent of sex and leather. My legs shook

• I AM YOURS TO PLAY   30. His Stubborn Obsession

  Chapter 30: His Stubborn ObsessionLUCIAN’S POVThe campfire’s glow flickered across Ethan’s face, casting shadows that danced over his sharp cheekbones, his slumped shoulders heavy with a sadness I could feel from the darkness. I crouched in the bushes, my breath shallow, the cold steel of my Glock pressed against my palm. Blackwood Forest was silent, save for the crackle of flames and the gurgle of the nearby stream, but my pulse thundered, a storm of rage and longing tearing me apart. Ethan sat there, oblivious, his knife glinting as he called out, “Who’s there?” His voice trembled, and fuck, it gutted me.I’d been watching him since he ran—since he drugged me, my men, and slipped out of my mansion like a ghost. I’d told Marco to stand down, but that was a lie. I’d watched Ethan’s every move, from the courtroom to his lonely apartment, to this damn campsite. And now, here he was, alone, vulnerable, and breaking my heart with every breath.My fingers tightened on the gun, my jaw cl

• I AM YOURS TO PLAY   29. Guilty Or Not

  Chapter 29: Guilty Or NotETHAN’S POVThe courtroom smelled of polished wood and nervous sweat, the air thick with anticipation as I stood at the defendant’s table, my hands clammy, my heart hammering. The jury’s eyes bored into me, a mix of pity and suspicion, while the gallery whispered, their murmurs a low hum that grated on my nerves. My bruises throbbed—souvenirs from the directors’ fists in the interrogation room—and my suit, ill-fitting after weeks of stress and hunger, hung loose on my frame. I was alone, or I’d thought, until Vincent Martinez strode in, his briefcase snapping open with a sound that cut through the chaos. “Mr. Vincent,” the judge, a stern woman with gray-streaked hair, said, her voice crisp. “You’re late. Proceed.”Vincent, his silver hair gleaming under the fluorescent lights, offered a curt nod. “My apologies, Your Honor.” He turned to me, his eyes unreadable, and murmured, “Stay calm, Mr. Caldwell. We’ve got this.” His confidence was a lifeline, but the qu

• I AM YOURS TO PLAY   28. Trial And Charged

  Chapter 28: Trial And ChargedETHAN’S POVThe interrogation room was a concrete box, cold and gray, the fluorescent light overhead buzzing like a swarm of angry wasps. My wrists ached, the handcuffs biting into my skin as I sat at the metal table, my head bowed, my face pressed against the cool surface. Blood trickled from my lip, warm and metallic, pooling on the table in tiny, crimson droplets. My body screamed with every breath, bruises throbbing from the blows I’d taken. The air smelled of sweat and stale coffee, and the silence was heavy, broken only by the shuffle of papers and the low hum of voices across from me. Supervisory Special Agent Reynolds sat flanked by two directors from FBI Headquarters, their suits crisp, their faces carved from stone. Director Hargrove, a wiry man with a hawkish nose, leaned forward, his eyes glinting with contempt. Director Patel, broader, with a shaved head that gleamed under the light, tapped a pen against a stack of files. Reynolds looked tir

• I AM YOURS TO PLAY   27. Heartbreak

  Chapter 27: HeartbreakLUCIAN’S POVA sledgehammer pounded inside my skull, each throb tearing through the fog of sleep. My eyes cracked open, the living room’s chandelier stabbing light into my vision. I was sprawled on the couch, my neck kinked, my mouth tasting like ash. What the hell? I never crashed on the couch—my bed was a fucking throne, not this leather slab. My stomach twisted, nausea curling like smoke, and I pressed my palms to my temples, wincing as the headache roared louder. The mansion was too quiet, the air heavy with the faint scent of garlic and cream from last night’s dinner. I sat up, the cough groaning under me, and scanned the room. Empty. No Ethan, no soft footsteps, no teasing “good morning” I’d half-hoped for. Just silence, thick and wrong. My pulse kicked up, a cold sweat prickling my neck. I staggered to my feet, the room tilting like a funhouse, my legs wobbly as if I’d downed a bottle of whiskey. I gripped the armrest, my knuckles blanching, and forced