Page 152 of The Owner's Temptation

Kiss.

“Flaunting yourself.”

Kiss.

“Touching what doesn’t fucking belong to them.”

Another kiss, harder now, like the memory angers him. His hand moves to the back of my neck.

“I’m going to wreck you, little rabbit. I’m going to show you what it really means to be mine.”

The name—thatname—sends a jolt through me.

Little rabbit.

It makes me whimper.

It’s the name the Devil whispered, the one Lucian never used in daylight, never said without the mask. It slips from his lips like a possession all its own, and I realize now—it isn’t just a role.

It’shim.

Lucian and the Devil are the same. Two sides of the same hunger. And I want both.

He reaches the couch and sits down heavily, pulling me forward.

“Face away from me,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, “but straddle me, little rabbit.”

My breath hitches. I hesitate for just a second, heart thudding, but then I move—climbing into his lap, my back to his chest, my bare ass pressing into his groin.

He’s still hard.

Still ready to ruin me.

One hand snakes around my throat, not choking but holding, a reminder of who’s in charge. The other slides between my thighs, his fingers instantly finding my clit, slow circles that make my hips twitch in response.

“My bad girl needs a lesson tonight,” he says into my ear. “In pain… and pleasure. Don’t you?”

I nod before I can think.

“Yes, sir.”

His chuckle rumbles through his chest, deep and knowing.

He shifts, steadying me on his lap as he leans forward, dragging the sleek coffee table in front of us with a single arm.

“Hands on the table, Angel,” he commands. “It’s time you earn what you’ve been begging for.”

I move as told, placing my palms flat on the table, fingers splayed wide. My knees spread on either side of his thighs, straddling him fully now. I know what I must look like—completely exposed, completely his.

It’s mortifying.

It’sexhilarating.

My clit throbs at the very thought of how he's looking at me now.

He hums behind me, warm lips brushing against the curve of my ass cheek. The kiss is soft. Wet. Almost reverent. Then his hands smooth over me, big palms kneading, spreading, owning.

“Spread your legs wider for me, Angel.”

---