Page 8 of The Darkest Gift

I can't help the smirk that tugs at my lips. "Surprise," I purr, rolling my hips against his hand.

Elijah's gaze snaps back to me, his blue eyes stormy with lust and confusion. "You planned this," he says, not a question but an accusation.

"We did," Mason confirms, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down my spine. "And you played your part beautifully."

I watch as Elijah's expression shifts, cycling through shock, anger, and then settling on a dangerous sort of intrigue. His fingers twitch inside me, drawing a gasp from my lips.

"So what now?" Elijah asks looking back at my husband, his voice rough with desire. "You going to tell me to step away from your wife?"

Mason's laugh is dark and rich. "On the contrary," he says, leaning forward in his chair. "I'm going to tell you to finish what you started."

The tension in the room ratchets up another notch. Elijah's eyes widen slightly, but I feel the way his body responds, the subtle shift of his hips against me.

"Unless," I add, my voice a sultry challenge, "you're not up for it."

Elijah's eyes narrow at that, a competitive fire sparking in their depths. Without breaking eye contact with Mason, he resumes the movement of his fingers, drawing a moan from my throat.

"Oh, I'm up for it," he growls, his free hand tangling in my hair as he pulls me into a bruising kiss. There is a darker edge to it now, more violent, angrier.

I lose myself in the sensations - Elijah's skilled fingers working me towards the edge, his lips hot and demanding against mine, and Mason's heavy gaze on us both. It's intoxicating, this dance of power and pleasure.

As Elijah's thumb finds my clit, circling it with maddening precision, I arch off the table, my climax building rapidly. I break the kiss, gasping for air, my eyes locking with Mason's across the room. The heat in his gaze, the possessive hunger there, pushes me over the edge.

I come with a cry, my body clenching around Elijah's fingers as waves of pleasure crash over me. As I come down from the high, panting and trembling, Elijah slowly withdraws his hand. Hebrings his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with a wicked grin.

"Delicious," he murmurs, his eyes darting between Mason and me.

Mason's eyes darken as he watches Elijah taste me on his fingers. He rises from the chair with controlled grace, stalking towards us. The predatory gleam in his eyes intensifies as he approaches. Elijah tenses slightly, but doesn't move away from me.

"Enjoying yourself?" Mason asks, his voice low and dangerous. There's an edge to his tone that sends shivers down my spine.

Elijah's eyes narrow, a smirk playing at his lips. "Immensely," he replies, his hand still resting possessively on my thigh. "Though I can't help but wonder what your endgame is here, Blackwood."

Mason chuckles, the sound rich and sinful. "Oh, we're just getting started," he says, coming to stand beside us. His hand reaches out, fingers trailing along my collarbone before trailing them up the sleeve of Elijah’s jacket. "The question is, are you ready for what comes next?"

I watch, fascinated, as Elijah's breath catches. There's a moment of hesitation, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, before it's replaced by a hungry curiosity. "Try me," he challenges.

Mason moves like a rattlesnake, tangling his fingers in Elijah's hair and yanking him up and into a bruising kiss, manhandling him until they are pressed together completely. I watch, mesmerized, as they battle for dominance. There's anger there, and lust, and something wicked that makes my pulse quicken.

When they break apart, both men are panting. Elijah's lips are swollen, his eyes wild. Mason turns to me, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

"What do you think, darling? Should we keep him?"

I pretend to consider it as I sit up, trailing a finger down Elijah's chest. "He does have potential," I muse. "And he's certainly pretty to look at."

Elijah's eyes dart between us, a mix of desire and wariness in his expression. But as Mason's hands start to undo his jacket, and my hand rubs against the hard length of him through his pants again, any hesitation melts away.

"Fuck," Elijah groans, his head falling back, his eyes closing briefly. "What have I gotten myself into?"

Mason chuckles sinfully, his fingers deftly unbuttoning Elijah's shirt. "Something far more dangerous and thrilling than you could have imagined," he murmurs, nipping at the skin of Elijah’s throat. "The question is, are you brave enough to see it through? I’ve always wanted to fuck a District Attorney."

As Elijah's shirt and jacket fall to the floor and Mason's hands explore his toned chest, I slide my dress up past my hips, parting my thighs. The sight of them together has me hot and aching. Both men turn to look at me, their eyes hungry.

Elijah's gaze lingers on my exposed pussy, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "I think you’re going to be the death of me," he says, his voice rough with desire.

Mason laughs, the sound rich and dark. "Oh, you have no idea," he purrs, his hands deftly undoing Elijah's belt.

In a flash, Mason has Elijah's pants around his ankles. He grips Elijah's hard cock, giving it a few languid strokes that draw a guttural moan from the blond man's throat. Elijah's hips thrust into Mason's hand, seeking more friction.

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