Page 12 of All We Want

His voice turns serious, the mischief giving way to a raw intensity. "Ya right, rós beag, ya don’ fit in. Ya stand out. Exactly like a banríon diamaint."

His words, wrapped in the Irish lilt, bring heat to skin. The foreign terms leave me both intrigued and confused. My breath catches in my throat as his hands slide down my skirt, fingers moving beneath the fabric and grazing my skin. The sly smile on his lips only deepens, and the tension in the room crackles with an unspoken promise.

“What does that mean?” I ask, my voice breathy. The intensity of his gaze leaves me almost panting.

His grin turns sinful, hands continuing their exploratory journey. "Queen of diamonds."

I almost growl at the meaning of his words, but at that moment, Aiden lifts me effortlessly from the floor, his hands firmly on my hips, and drops me onto my own desk. The sudden shift in height leaves me disoriented, his predatory grin intensifying as I struggle to regain my composure.

Aiden leans in, his body now pressed against mine, a gleam in his eyes. "A queen should have a throne, don’t ye think, rós beag?" His Irish accent caresses the words, adding an extra layer of allure.

I attempt to regain control of the situation, mustering a defiant look. "I don’t recall inviting you to my kingdom, Mr. Blackstone. Nor do I recall agreeing to be treated like a chess piece."

His response is a low chuckle, the sound sending ripples through the tense air. His hands are still underneath my skirt, and his fingers trace patterns on my skin that feel like he is playing with my raw nerves. "Oh but ya did when ya stole from us. But sometimes, love, the best moves are made off the board."

Aiden's lips graze my ear, his breath sending shivers down my spine. "Ya played ya cards well, Scarlette. But now, it's time for a different kind of game." The hint of mischief returns to his voice, blending with a newfound intensity.

I struggle to find the right words, my mind a chaotic whirlwind of conflicting emotions. I need to create a wall against the charm these men exude, like some drug to lure me into a trap. "I'm not here to play games, Mr. Blackstone. I have a life to live, work to do."

He tilts his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Life's a game, Scarlette. We all play, whether we admit it or not. The question is, are ya ready to play by a different set of rules?"

I can’t stop the soft moan as his fingers find the edge of my lace underwear. “And what do you win in this game? What do you want?”

His eyes meet mine, a flicker of something more serious underlying the playful demeanor. "Isn't it obvious, rós beag? We want you.”

The room pulses with a charged energy, and I feel the magnetic pull drawing me further into their web. Aiden's fingers continue their teasing exploration, and my breath hitches with every subtle movement.

Before I could form another sentence, Aiden’s fingers squeeze my clit through the lace of my underwear as he closes the distance between us, capturing the gasp on my lips with a searing kiss. The world around us blurs, and for a moment, all that exists is the intoxicating sensation of his lips on mine, his tongue sweeping in to slide against my own in a seductive dance that I could feel with my whole body. His kiss was a potent blend of hunger and need, leaving me breathless and craving more.

His fingers move against me, rubbing my pussy and circling my clit through the lace, but never delving under it. He has my body on the edge quicker than when his brother made me touch myself last night. And all I could think was that I want his fingers buried deep inside me, I want him buried deep inside me.

When he finally pulls his lips and fingers away, I am almost whimpering with need. A predatory gleam lingers in his eyes. "Ya taste like the sweetest fuckin wine, Scarlette, I wanna drown in it." he remarks, his Irish accent making his words sound so sexy.

I struggle to regain my composure, my mind still reeling from the intensity of the kiss. "I didn't ask for any of this when I stole from you."

Aiden chuckles, his fingers tracing patterns on my skin. "Sometimes, love, da things we want find us, not da other way ‘round. Even if we never knew we wanted dem beforehand." His gaze holds a knowing glint, as if he understood the tangled web of emotions I am navigating.

I try to catch my breath, my senses reeling from the unexpected turn of events. Before I utter a word, he straightens, a sly smile playing on his lips. "Dinner tonight at our penthouse. Consider it an invitation to da next move in our little game. Don't keep us waitin’, rós beag."

With that, he saunters toward the door, leaving me perched on my desk, with a whirlwind of emotions and the lingering taste of his kiss. The office door closes with a soft click, leaving me wondering what the fuck just happened and what their next move would be.

The weight of the situation begins to settle in. My usual control eludes me, slipping away like sand through my fingers. This wasn't the carefully orchestrated dance of secrets and shadows I was used to; this was uncharted territory where the Blackstone brothers seemed to hold the map.

Chapter 10

Scarlette

When my brain finally comes back online after Aiden left, I am left fuming and frustrated. The audacity of the Blackstone brothers and the liberties they took left me seething. I couldn't believe they had the nerve to toy with me like this, leaving me on the edge with no climax and a head full of confusion.

The remnants of Aiden's touch linger, the ache between my legs a constant reminder of the unfulfilled desire. I curse under my breath, both at them and at myself for being affected by their advances. It was a dangerous game, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to play or if I had a choice in the matter.

As I try to gather my scattered thoughts, a sinking feeling settles in my stomach. I promised files to a buyer, and now I no longer possess them. The repercussions of my actions loom over me, a shadow threatening to unravel the delicate balance I carefully maintained.

With a deep breath, I straighten up from the desk and pace the room.

I have no idea what I am going to do. I still have several days to come up with some sort of plan, but by now the buyer would have received my communication confirming that I had what they wanted. My inability to deliver the promised files would undoubtedly have consequences. My reputation, carefully crafted through years of covert dealings, teetered on the precipice.

But I doubt I could somehow steal the files a second time from the Blackstone brothers. And at this point I am not entirely sure I want to.

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