Page 20 of The Darkest Gift

Heat fills me at his words and I let a smile curl at the corner of my lips. Mason's grip on me tightens further, possessive and warning.

"In fact," Elijah continues, seemingly emboldened by our reactions, "I distinctly remember her moaning my name. Begging for more. Screaming as she came around my cock."

His words paint a vivid picture, bringing back memories of that night at the gala. The heat of his body, the skillful way he'd played me like an instrument. I feel a flush creeping up my neck, arousal pooling low in my belly.

"So really," Elijah says, his voice dropping to a seductive purr, "if you want true cuckolding, you should be the one bound to this cross. Watching as I fuck your wife into oblivion. Listening to her beg for my cock, plead for me to make her come again and again."

Mason moves so quickly I barely have time to register it. One moment he's behind me, the next he's in front of Elijah, hand wrapped around his throat. Not squeezing, not yet, but a clear threat.

"Careful, Winter," Mason growls, his voice low. "You're playing a very dangerous game."

But Elijah doesn't back down. If anything, he seems to relish the confrontation. "Am I?" he challenges, somehow managing to sound smug even with Mason's hand at his throat. "Or am I juststating facts? Your wife's pussy felt divine clenching around my cock. I bet she'd love to feel it again."

I watch, transfixed, as Mason's fingers tighten slightly. Elijah's breath hitches, but the defiant glint in his eyes doesn't waver.

"You think you could satisfy her better than I can?" Mason asks, his tone deceptively calm. "You think you know what she needs, what she craves?"

Elijah's laugh is breathless but still full of bravado. "I don't think, Blackwood. I know." His eyes flick to me, a smirk playing at his lips. "The way she moved against me, the sounds she made... I'd say I satisfied her quite well."

Mason's jaw tightens, a muscle ticking beneath the skin. But he doesn't rise to the bait. Instead, he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a wicked purr. "You think you know her? You've barely scratched the surface, pretty boy."

His hand slides from Elijah's throat, trailing down his chest in a deceptively gentle caress. "You've tasted a fraction of what she has to offer. A carefully crafted illusion, a performance tailored just for you."

Mason's fingers ghost over Elijah's abs, dipping lower. "Tell me, did you feel powerful that night? Did you think you were in control?" His hand wraps around Elijah's cock, already half-hard despite the tension in the room. "Because let me assure you, you were nothing more than a pawn in our game."

Elijah's breath hitches, his hips involuntarily jerking into Mason's touch. But his eyes remain defiant, locked onto Mason's with a challenge burning in their icy depths. "Game or not," he grits out, "I still made her come. I still felt her tight, wet heat around my cock. And I bet she's thinking about it right now, remembering how good it felt."

I can't deny the shiver that runs through me at his words. The memory of that night is seared into my mind—the thrill of seduction, the exquisite pleasure of his body against mine. ButElijah doesn't understand the deeper game at play, the wicked desires that drive Mason and me.

Mason's laugh is low and savage. "Oh, Elijah," he murmurs, his hand still languidly stroking Elijah's length. "You still don't get it, do you? This isn't about who can make her come harder or whose cock she prefers. It's so much more... complex than that."

He steps back, releasing Elijah's cock. The bound man groans at the loss of contact, his erection now fully hard and leaking. Mason turns to me, dark eyes gleaming with wicked intent.

"Tell me, darling," he purrs, reaching out to caress my cheek. "Do you think our esteemed District Attorney here would kill for you?"

I lean into his touch, a slow smile spreading across my face. "Mmm, I don't know. Would you, Elijah?" I ask, my voice dripping with faux innocence.

Elijah's brow furrows, confusion warring with the lust in his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

Mason's hand slides down my neck, tracing the curve of my collarbone before dipping lower to cup my breast through the sheer fabric of my negligee. His touch sends sparks of electricity through my body, and I can't help the soft gasp that escapes my lips.

"You see, Elijah," Mason purrs, his eyes never leaving mine as he continues to caress me, "what we have goes far beyond mere physical pleasure. It's a bond forged in blood and darkness, a shared hunger that can never truly be sated."

I watch as Elijah's eyes darken, his gaze flicking between Mason's hand on my body and our faces. There's something brewing behind those icy blue eyes, a storm of emotions I can't quite decipher.

"You think you know desire?" Mason continues, his voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "Tell me, Elijah, have you everwanted someone so badly that you'd burn the world down just to see them smile?"

His hand slides lower, pushing aside the flimsy material of my negligee to expose my breast. I arch into his touch, putting on a show for our captive audience. Elijah's breath hitches audibly, his cock twitching against his stomach.

"Have you ever felt a hunger so deep, so all-consuming, that it threatens to devour you from the inside out?" Mason's fingers find my nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. I moan softly, the sound echoing in the charged silence of the room.

Elijah's jaw clenches, his arms straining against his bonds. But there's something else there now, beyond the lust and frustration. A glimmer of something wicked, perhaps? Or maybe just a different kind of hunger.

"You talk about making her come," Mason scoffs, his hand trailing down my stomach now, fingers dancing along the edge of my panties. "As if that's the pinnacle of desire. But tell me this, Elijah, would you kill for her?"

Elijah's eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering across his features before he schools his expression back into one of defiant nonchalance.

"Or better yet," Mason continues, his voice dropping even lower, "would you cover up her crimes? Would you use that position of yours, that shiny District Attorney badge, to make bodies disappear? To erase evidence? To keep her safe, no matter the cost?"

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