CHAPTER 3

The golden hue of the afternoon had bled into a deep, bruised purple as evening reclaimed the estate. The gala had wound down, the sunshine sister having finally retired to her room after a long day of playing hostess, and the parents had retreated to their wing, leaving the grand library in a heavy, velvet silence.

This was the hour Orion lived for.

He sat in a massive, wingback leather chair that seemed specially designed for a man of his stature. The fire in the hearth crackled, casting dancing shadows across the room and highlighting the sharp, masculine angles of his face. He had shed his suit jacket, and his white dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, the sleeves rolled up to reveal the thick, corded muscle of his forearms and the dark, intricate ink of the tattoos that marked his skin.

He looked every bit the dominant CEO, the predator at rest, until the door creaked open.

"Orion? Are you still awake, sweetheart?"

The change in Orion was instantaneous. His body didn't soften, he wasn't capable of that, but his focus sharpened into a singular, laser-like intensity.

Noah stepped into the room, looking smaller and more delicate than ever in the dim light. He had changed out of his formal silk into a pair of soft, cream-colored lounge pants and an oversized cashmere sweater. The sweater was too big for his 5’4” frame, the hem falling halfway down his thighs, but the way the fabric draped only served to emphasize the fullness of his chest and the soft, rounded curve of his hips.

"I’m here, Uncle Noah," Orion rumbled, his voice a low vibration that seemed to settle in the very floorboards.

Noah beamed, his porcelain skin glowing in the firelight. He padded across the thick rug on bare feet, moving with that natural, bouncy grace that made Orion’s blood simmer. Without a second thought, without a shred of hesitation, Noah did what he had done since Orion was a teenager: he climbed right onto Orion’s lap.

To Noah, this was a family tradition,a sweet, platonic comfort between an uncle and the nephew he had helped raise. To Orion, it was an exercise in extreme self-control.

As Noah settled himself, his wide, soft backside pressed firmly against Orion’s muscular thighs. Because of the height difference, Noah’s head rested perfectly against Orion's chest, right over the heavy, steady thrum of the younger man's heart. Orion’s large hands naturally found their place, one resting on the small of Noah’s back, the other settling on the plush curve of Noah’s thigh.

"Oh, it was such a long day, wasn't it?" Noah sighed, melting into Orion’s strength. He didn't notice the way Orion’s fingers twitched, or the way the giant’s grip was just a fraction more possessive than a nephew’s should be. "The party was lovely, but my feet are just killing me. And Marcus... he looked so handsome in that navy suit, didn't he?"

Orion’s jaw tightened. He watched the way Noah’s fluffy brown hair caught the light as he tilted his head back to look at him. Noah’s doe eyes were wide and filled with a dreamy, innocent longing.

"You spent a lot of time talking to him," Orion said, his voice carefully neutral, though his thumb began to trace a slow, rhythmic path along the side of Noah’s hip.

"I did! He’s so worldly, Orion," Noah chirped, his soft-spoken voice filling the quiet room. "He told me about his trip to the Swiss Alps. Can you imagine? Snow everywhere, staying in a little cabin with a fireplace just like this one. That’s my dream, you know. To go somewhere quiet and beautiful with someone who really... who really sees me."

Noah reached up, his small, delicate hand tangling in the hair at the nape of Orion’s neck. He played with the dark strands, his touch light and innocent. "I think Marcus sees me, Orion. I really do. He called me 'charming' when we were by the trellis. Do you think he meant it? Or was he just being polite because of your father?"

Orion looked down at the man in his lap. He saw the way the cashmere sweater slipped slightly off one of Noah’s shoulders, revealing skin that looked as smooth as silk. He saw the pretty feminine curve of Noah’s jaw and the way his sensitive nipples pebbled against the fabric of his sweater from the slight chill in the room.

"I think any man would find you charming, Noah," Orion said, his voice dropping to a gravelly depth. "But Marcus is an old man. He doesn't have the... energy... for someone like you."

Noah giggled, a soft, bubbly sound that made Orion’s grip on his thigh tighten. "Oh, don't be silly! He’s in his prime. Not everyone can be a 6'4" Greek god like you, you big brute." Noah teased, poking Orion’s hard chest with a finger. "You're so lucky, you know. You’re a CEO, you’re handsome, you have the world at your feet. You'll find a beautiful woman and have a dozen little giants running around."

Orion didn't pull away. He listened attentively, his eyes never leaving Noah’s face. This was their ritual. Noah would spill his heart out, talking about his "crush" on a man who didn't deserve him, dreaming of a life that Orion was already planning to give him, just not with Marcus.

"I don't want a dozen giants, Noah," Orion murmured, his hand sliding up from Noah’s thigh to the curve of his waist, pulling him just an inch closer. "I only want what’s mine."

"Well, of course you do," Noah said, completely oblivious, yawning as he tucked his face into the crook of Orion’s neck. He smelled like vanilla and expensive soap, a soft, feminine scent that sent Orion’s high sex drive into overdrive. "You’ve always been so focused. Even when you were a little boy, you’d grab my hand and never let go. My 'little shadow,' your mother called you."

Noah’s voice grew sleepier, his words slurring slightly as he relaxed into the solid heat of Orion’s body. "I’m glad you’re still my sweet nephew, Orion. Even if you’re a big, scary CEO now... you’re the only one who really listens to me. Everyone else thinks I’m just... well, they cherish me, but they don't listen."

Orion’s heart hammered against Noah’s ear, a frantic rhythm of dominance and desire. He looked at the man he had been obsessed with for a lifetime. He saw the porcelain skin, the curvy hips, the soft, sensitive soul that everyone else in the family "cherished" like a fragile doll.

They thought Noah was someone to be protected. Orion knew Noah was someone to be claimed.

"I’m always listening, Noah," Orion whispered, his lips brushing against Noah’s forehead in a gesture that Noah interpreted as "sweet," but which Orion intended as a mark of ownership. "I hear everything you say. I know every dream you have."

"Mmm... good," Noah drifted, his eyes fluttering shut. He felt so safe here. Orion was so big, so strong, so masculine, he was the perfect protector. Noah didn't feel the predatory weight of Orion’s gaze. He didn't see the way Orion’s large hand splayed across his back, holding him with a strength that suggested he would never let go.

Orion sat in the silence of the library, the fire dying down to embers. He watched Noah sleep, the smaller man’s breathing becoming deep and even. The "pretty" uncle was a soft, feminine weight in his lap, a prize that Orion had been stalking for years.

Marcus was a shadow. The parents were an obstacle. But Noah... Noah was the goal.

As the clock struck midnight, Orion didn't move. He simply leaned back, his massive frame supporting the soft, curvy man in his arms, his eyes burning with a dark, silent promise.

Noah could dream of Marcus all he wanted. But when he woke up, he was still in Orion’s lap. He was still in Orion’s house. And eventually, Orion would make sure he knew exactly whose he was.

"Sleep, Noah," Orion breathed, his voice like a velvet iron. "I’ve got you."