Chapter 5: Claiming His Prize

The evening had settled over the penthouse like a velvet curtain, the city lights twinkling forty floors below as the three of them finished the last of Sarah's perfectly cooked brisket. The wine had flowed freely throughout dinner, but Josh felt more clear-headed than he had in years. The conversation from earlier had shifted something fundamental between them—a new dynamic where his voice carried weight, where Jean's quiet strength was acknowledged, where Sarah's natural dominance was tempered by genuine partnership.

"That was incredible," Jean said, setting down her fork with a satisfied sigh. "I can't believe you actually know how to cook."

"I'm a woman of many talents," Sarah replied with characteristic smugness, though her eyes kept drifting to Josh with an expression he'd never seen before—anticipation mixed with something that might have been nervousness.

Josh pushed back from the table, his decision crystallizing as he watched them both. All afternoon, he'd been thinking about what Jean had said—about wanting to matter, about deserving to take up space. But it wasn't just Jean who needed to learn that lesson. For too long, he'd waited for Sarah to dictate the terms of their relationship, accepting whatever attention she deigned to give him.

Not anymore.

"Sarah," he said quietly, his voice carrying a new authority that made both women go still. "I want to show you something."

Sarah's eyebrows arched with interest. "Oh? And what might that be?"

Instead of answering, Josh stood and moved around the table to where she sat. He extended his hand, palm up, waiting. The gesture was simple, but the implication was clear—he was taking the lead.

Sarah stared at his outstretched hand for a long moment, and Josh could practically see her internal struggle. Sarah Vance didn't follow; she led. She orchestrated, manipulated, controlled. Being asked to surrender that control, even temporarily, went against every instinct she possessed.

"Trust me," Josh said softly, and something in his tone made her decision.

Sarah placed her hand in his, allowing him to help her to her feet. The simple act sent a thrill through him that had nothing to do with wine and everything to do with the shift in power dynamics he could feel building between them.

"Where are we going?" she asked, though she made no move to reclaim control.

"Your bedroom," Josh replied, enjoying the way her eyes widened slightly at his directness. "Jean, come with us."

Jean rose immediately, her sketchbook forgotten as she followed them toward the master suite. Josh could feel her curious gaze on his back, could practically hear her wondering what he had planned.

Sarah's bedroom was exactly what he'd expected—a monument to luxury and control. The king-sized bed dominated the space, draped in silk and positioned to take advantage of the spectacular city view. Everything was perfectly arranged, from the museum-quality art on the walls to the fresh orchids on the nightstand. It was Sarah's sanctuary, her private domain where she retreated from the world.

Josh intended to make it his playground.

"This is where you bring everyone, isn't it?" he asked, his fingers still intertwined with Sarah's as he led her to stand before the wall of windows. "Your gallery donors, your conquests, anyone you want to impress with your power and sophistication."

"Josh..." Sarah began, but he silenced her with a look.

"I'm not finished," he said calmly. "This is where you're most comfortable, most in control. Your bed, your rules, your territory."

He could see understanding dawning in her green eyes, a mixture of excitement and apprehension that sent heat coursing through his veins.

"But tonight," Josh continued, releasing her hand to cup her face gently, "tonight you're going to let me be in charge. In your space, on your terms, but under my direction."

Sarah's breath hitched, and for a moment she looked younger, more vulnerable than he'd ever seen her. "What do you want me to do?"

The question—so simple, so loaded with possibility—nearly undid his carefully maintained composure. But Josh forced himself to stay focused, to channel every negotiation skill he'd ever learned into this moment.

"I want you to undress," he said simply. "Slowly. I want Jean to watch, and I want you to show us both how beautiful you are when you're not trying to control everything."

For a heartbeat, he thought she might refuse. Sarah's jaw tightened, and he could see her fighting every instinct that told her to take charge, to flip the script and regain her position of dominance.

Then, slowly, she reached for the hem of her fitted tank top.

"That's it," Josh murmured, his voice low and encouraging. "Just like that."

Sarah pulled the top over her head in one fluid motion, revealing the black lace bra that cupped her breasts perfectly. Her skin glowed in the soft lighting, and Josh heard Jean's sharp intake of breath from behind him.

"The pants too," he instructed, moving to sit on the edge of the bed where he could watch her properly. "Jean, come here."

Jean moved to stand beside him, her hazel eyes wide with fascination as she watched her girlfriend slowly reveal herself under another's direction. There was something hypnotic about seeing Sarah—confident, controlling Sarah—submit to someone else's will.

Sarah hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her yoga pants, pushing them down her hips with deliberate slowness. The matching black lace panties beneath left little to the imagination, and Josh felt his mouth go dry at the sight of her standing before them in nothing but scraps of expensive lingerie.

"Beautiful," Jean whispered, her voice thick with desire. "God, Sarah, you're so beautiful."

A flush spread across Sarah's chest at the praise, and Josh realized she was genuinely affected by being watched, by being the focus of their combined attention without being the one orchestrating it.

"The bra," Josh said, his own voice rougher now. "Take it off."

Sarah's hands moved to the clasp with practiced efficiency, but Josh shook his head.

"Slower," he corrected. "I want to savor this."

The command sent a visible shiver through Sarah's body. She unhooked the bra with torturous deliberation, letting it fall away to reveal her perfect breasts. Her nipples were already hard, whether from arousal or the slight chill of the air conditioning, Josh couldn't tell.

"Now the panties," he continued, surprised by how steady his voice remained despite the fire coursing through his veins.

Sarah hooked her fingers in the delicate lace, but paused, meeting his eyes with a challenge that was pure Sarah Vance. "What do I get in return?"

Josh smiled, recognizing the negotiation tactic for what it was—a last-ditch attempt to regain some measure of control. "You get to find out what it feels like when someone else takes care of you for once."

The answer seemed to satisfy her, because she pushed the panties down her legs without further protest, stepping out of them gracefully. She stood before them completely naked, her body a work of art in the soft light, and Josh felt a surge of possessive hunger that surprised him with its intensity.

"Come here," he said, patting his thigh.

Sarah moved toward him with her characteristic grace, but there was something different in her movements now—a hint of uncertainty that spoke to how far outside her comfort zone she was operating.

When she was close enough to touch, Josh reached out to trace the curve of her hip, marveling at the softness of her skin. "You're incredible," he murmured. "Do you know that?"

"I know I'm attractive," Sarah replied, but there was a question in her voice.

"Not just attractive," Josh corrected, his hands moving to span her waist. "Incredible. Powerful. Brilliant. Sexy as hell when you let your guard down."

He could see the effect his words were having on her, the way her breathing quickened and her pupils dilated. Sarah was used to being desired, but being truly seen—vulnerabilities and all—was clearly new territory for her.

"Jean," Josh said without taking his eyes off Sarah, "come touch her. Show her how much you love watching her like this."

Jean moved immediately to comply, her hands ghosting over Sarah's bare shoulders as she pressed soft kisses to her neck. Sarah's eyes fluttered closed at the contact, a soft moan escaping her lips.

"That's it," Josh encouraged, his own hands roaming Sarah's curves as Jean continued her gentle ministrations. "Just let us take care of you."

The dual sensation of their hands on her body seemed to undo Sarah completely. Her careful composure cracked, revealing the passionate woman beneath the polished exterior. She arched into their touch, her head falling back as she gave herself over to the experience.

Josh felt a surge of triumph that had nothing to do with conquest and everything to do with connection. This was what he'd wanted—not just Sarah's body, but her trust, her willingness to be vulnerable with him.

"The shower," he said suddenly, the idea crystallizing as he spoke. "I want to wash you."

Sarah's eyes snapped open, meeting his with surprise and unmistakable desire. "Josh..."

"Trust me," he said again, rising to his feet and pulling her with him toward the en suite bathroom.

The master bathroom was as luxurious as the rest of Sarah's domain—marble surfaces, a rain shower large enough for several people, and fixtures that probably cost more than most people's cars. But Josh barely noticed the opulence; his attention was entirely focused on the woman before him.

He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature until steam began to fill the space. Then he began to undress, his movements deliberate and unhurried. He could feel both women watching him, their combined attention sending heat coursing through his veins.

When the three of them stepped under the cascade of hot water, Josh felt something shift irrevocably between them. This wasn't just about sex or power or fulfilling fantasies. This was about claiming his place in their dynamic, about refusing to be sidelined or treated as an afterthought.

"Let me," he murmured, reaching for the expensive shower gel Sarah kept on a marble shelf.

He lathered his hands and began to wash her with careful attention, starting with her shoulders and working his way down. Sarah melted under his touch, her usual commanding presence replaced by something softer, more open.

"Josh," she breathed, her voice thick with need. "Please..."

"Please what?" he asked, his hands skimming over her breasts before moving lower.

"Please don't stop," she gasped, her body arching into his touch. "Please don't ever stop."

The plea—so unlike the commanding Sarah he'd known for years—sent a surge of possessive satisfaction through him. This was his Sarah, vulnerable and wanting and completely at his mercy.

Behind them, Jean watched with fascination, her own hands moving to touch herself as she took in the sight of her controlled girlfriend surrendering to someone else's will.

"Come here, Jean," Josh commanded softly. "I want both of you."

As Jean moved to join them under the streaming water, Josh felt a sense of completeness he'd never experienced before. He was no longer the shy friend content to watch from the sidelines. He was an equal partner in this dance, claiming his place with confidence and authority.

The water continued to fall around them as Josh showed both women exactly how it felt to be cherished, desired, and completely possessed by someone who finally understood his own worth.

This was just the beginning, he realized. The weekend was young, and he had so much more to show them both.