The One They Both Owned

Chapter Five: The One They Both Owned

Characters:

Lysander Vale – Dominant, cruel, icy CEO. Older, immaculate, calculating.

Xaden Quinn – The golden boy. Charming, sadistic underneath the smile. Obsessive protector.

Jack Blake – The reluctant third. Naïve, shy, caught between them. The obsession neither will give up.

Setting: Luxe penthouse apartment, rain streaking the floor-to-ceiling windows, all glass and shadows.

Tone: Slow tension, dual control, subtle rivalry, and psychological power play. Expect teasing, edging, and emotional manipulation. One uses words. The other uses touch.

The One They Both Owned

Jack had no idea where to look.

Lysander was behind him. Caden was in front of him. And both of them were watching him like they’d already decided what he’d do tonight.

What they’d make him do.

He was shirtless. Barefoot. Jeans unbuttoned but not removed. His breath was shaking. His hands didn’t know where to rest.

“Speak,” Lysander said from the leather chair behind him. His voice never rose. He didn’t need to raise it. “Tell us what you want, Jude.”

Jack’s lips parted.

Then closed.

Caden leaned forward from the couch, one elbow resting on his knee, a slow smirk playing at his lips. “He doesn’t know what he wants,” he said, eyes flicking over Jude’s trembling body. “That’s why he has us.”

Lysander said nothing.

Xaden stood.

Jude’s breath hitched.

Caden walked over to him, reached out and flicked open the button of Jude’s jeans the rest of the way. The zipper came down in a blur. Caden didn't push them off, though. He just let them hang dangerously low on Jude’s hips.

“Look at him,” Caden said, half-turning to Lysander. “He’s already hard.”

“Then make him beg.”

Ezra’s smile deepened.

He took Jude’s jaw between his fingers, lifted his chin. “Use your words, sweetheart,” he said, softly mocking. “Tell us what you’re thinking.”

Jack swallowed. “I… I don’t know.”

Wrong answer.

Ezra’s hand slipped into the front of Jude’s jeans, fingers warm and possessive around his cock. Not stroking. Just holding. Jude’s knees buckled slightly.

“You don’t know,” Caden echoed.

Lysander spoke again, still behind. “Take it out.”

Xaden obeyed.

He pulled Jude’s cock free from his jeans and held it—exposed, vulnerable, flushed and leaking in the cold air.

Lysander finally stood.

He came to Jude’s back and pressed a hand flat against his spine.

“Hold still,” he said.

And then he leaned down, lips brushing the back of Jude’s neck—l, soft, deliberate, cruelly intimate.

Jack whimpered.

and tightened his grip, finally stroking once—slow, from base to tip.

“Two hands on the wall,” Lysander said.

Jacklifted his arms and pressed his palms against the smooth glass of the window. Rain tapped gently outside. He could see the city. The empty sky. His own reflection. Ezra’s hand around his cock. Lysander’s eyes watching both of them.

He felt Lysander unbutton the last of his jeans, letting them drop to his ankles.

Xaden sank to his knees.

And then, Jackgasped.

Ezra’s tongue was hot and wet and sinful against the tip of his cock. His mouth didn’t take him in fully, just kissed, licked, tasted. Just enough to keep him desperate.

“God,” Jack breathed. “Please…”

“Please what?” Lysander asked, breathing against his shoulder.

“I want...”

Caden stopped sucking and looked up, eyes dark. “Say it.”

“I want to come,” Jack whispered, trembling.

Lysander clicked his tongue. “You’re not even close.”

Then his hand slid between Jude’s thighs—and cupped his ass. “Open your legs.”

Jack obeyed.

He didn’t even think about it. Didn’t protest. Just obeyed.

Ezra’s mouth was back on him, this time deeper—wet, slow, tongue curling under the head.

And Lysander’s fingers?

They were at his entrance.

One slick, cool fingertip traced around the tight ring of muscle. Not entering. Not forcing.

Just… threatening.

“I could take you right now,” Lysander murmured. “Let him watch.”

Jack’s moan was wrecked and breathless.

“But I won’t,” Lysander added, "cruel and cold. “You don’t deserve it.”

Caden pulled off, a strand of spit connecting his lips to Jude’s cock.

“He’s close,” he said, voice low.

Lysander stepped away. “Then stop.”

Xaden did.

Jack nearly sobbed.

“No...please...don’t stop, please...”

Lysander’s voice turned sharp. “Did I give you permission to beg?”

Jack froze.

Silence fell.

Caden stood, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and stared at Jack with a strange mix of amusement and something darker.

Lysander leaned close again, whispering into Jude’s ear:

“Next time, maybe you’ll learn your place.”

He turned to Ezra.

“Leave him like that.”

They walked out together.

And Jack stayed, bare, ruined, untouched and aching.