All Chapters of Exclusive Privilege: The Billionaire’s Toy: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

North’s POVBut my mind was already moving.Fast.Three days.No restrictions.Well… almost none.Two faces came to mind instantly.My best friends.One of them already knew about Lucien, or at least enough to understand the situation. The other, her girlfriend, didn’t know him, not really, but she knew enough. She knew I was involved with someone rich. Someone powerful.She just didn’t know how deep it went.And then…Elyon.My chest tightened slightly at the thought of him.He had been upset.More than upset.The last time we spoke, there had been something strained in his voice, something wounded that he tried to hide but couldn’t quite mask.I had kept him in the dark for too long.Avoided questions.Changed topics.Pushed him away without meaning to.But Elyon wasn’t just anyone.He was… constant.Childhood memories flickered faintly at the back of my mind, laughter, small arguments, quiet understanding that didn’t need words.If anyone deserved to know something, even if not eve

Lucien’s POVThe cat ears were slightly askew, and the long, black tail, attached to the plug inside him, swayed gently as he shifted his weight. He looked up at me, his eyes hazy with bourbon and a blatant, unashamed lust. He was a masterpiece of submission, and the anger still simmering in my veins from my encounter with Jericho found its perfect target."Look at you," I said, my voice a low, appreciative purr that vibrated through the room and straight to my groin. "All dressed up for me. Did you have a good time at my party?"The alcohol had clearly untethered his inhibitions. He began to crawl toward me, the movement fluid and sinuous. "It was enlightening," he murmured, his voice husky. He reached out, his fingers grazing the expensive fabric of my trousers. "But the party's just starting, isn't it?"His touch was a spark to my temper. I shot my hand out, my grip like iron around his wrist, stopping him cold. "Not so fast," I chided, my voice losing its softness and taking on a

Lucien’s POVBut my silence wasn't a surrender; it was a retreat. I avoided them both until our father, tired of the tension, sat us down and "made us settle." Jericho got the girl. I got the reputation of being the cold-hearted heir who couldn't be bothered to fight for his own girlfriend.I was always the outstanding one, the heir apparent. Jericho was my shadow, but a shadow that learned how to manipulate the light. He knew from a young age that he was adopted, and he used that card like a master. It was his excuse, his weapon, his shield. "You don't understand," he would tell our parents. "You're not adopted, you don't know what it's like." And they would fold, showering him with the affection he so expertly demanded.I stood on the deck, the past and present blurring into one. My mother's broken voice, Jericho's smug face, the memory of being trapped in a life I didn't want. It was all the same story. A story of being forced into a role, of being misunderstood. But not with Nor

Lucien’s POVThe silence in the penthouse was a physical presence, a thick, suffocating blanket that settled over everything the moment the door clicked shut behind North. The urge to call him was a frantic, desperate thing, a bird beating against the inside of my ribs. I wanted to hear his voice, to take back the ugly words I had thrown at him like stones. But I couldn't.I just sat there, staring at my phone, the screen dark and mocking. It felt like I was the only one investing in this relationship. I was the one flying across the world, cutting meetings short, rearranging my entire life just to be in the same room as him. And what did I get in return? A casual mention of an off day, as if my presence was an afterthought, a minor detail in a life that was already full.Frustration, hot and sour, churned in my gut. Our four-month anniversary was just around the corner. I had been thinking about it for weeks, imagining a quiet weekend at a private villa, just the two of us. But then

Lucien’s POV"The contract explicitly states that you are not to sleep with anyone else until it's over," I continued, my voice rising. "Or did you think that didn't apply to 'talking stages'?"The tears finally spilled over, tracing a path down his cheeks. He looked at me, his expression a mixture of hurt and disbelief."I would never do that to you," he said, his voice trembling. "I would never break the rules.""Then why does it feel like you're trying to?" I shot back, my voice cracking with an emotion I refused to name.He just stood there for a moment, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Then, he looked up at me, his eyes clear and cold, the tears gone. "Thank you," he said, his voice flat and empty. "Thank you for ruining my birthday."He began to unbutton his shirt, his movements slow and deliberate. "You ordered me back here," he said, his voice devoid of all emotion. "So let's do this. Let's do what you brought me back to do. Even though it's my off day."He stood before