Natalia's eyes opened in the darkness.

No alarm. No gradual awakening. Just instant awareness, the kind that came from weeks of waking in unfamiliar territory, always alert for the sound of footsteps in the hallway or the click of a door handle.

She lay still, listening to the quiet rhythm of Satori's breathing beside her. The faint glow of the city filtered through the blinds, painting his face in strips of amber and shadow.

Her body ached.

Every muscle carried the pleasant soreness of a night spent tangled in sheets and limbs, of being bent and twisted and filled until thought became impossible. The ghost of his fingers lingered on her hips, her throat, the inside of her thighs.

She turned her head on the pillow, studying him.

He looked younger in sleep. The sharp angles of his face softened, the constant calculation behind his eyes temporarily suspended. His red hair fell across his forehead in messy waves. One arm was thrown over his head, the other draped across her waist with careless possession even in unconsciousness.

Something tightened in her chest.

Mine.

This man, this impossible scumbag who'd turned her world inside out and rebuilt it around himself. Who made her feel like a goddess and a whore in the same breath. Who'd taken everything she thought she knew about power and desire and shattered it into glittering fragments.

She wanted to wake up like this every morning for the rest of her life.

Her gaze drifted lower, following the hard planes of his chest, the defined ridges of his abdomen. The sheets had pooled around his hips during the night, leaving most of him exposed to her hungry stare.

An idea formed.

They had maybe an hour before they needed to be up. Before they had to pack the last of their things and head to the ferry terminal. Before they stepped into their new roles as model students at New Vein Academy.

This was their last morning of true privacy.

She was going to make it count.

Moving slowly, carefully, she extracted herself from beneath his arm. The bed shifted slightly as she slid down, positioning herself between his legs. Her hands found the edge of the sheet and pulled it back.

Then she froze.

Her eyes went wide. Heat flooded her face despite the intimate familiarity they'd built over the past weeks.

When did it...

The thought died unfinished.

Satori's cock lay thick and heavy against his thigh, still soft but impossibly large. She'd felt it inside her a few nights ago, stretching her until she thought she'd break, filling her so completely that breathing became an afterthought. But seeing it now, in the dim morning light, the sheer size of him stole her breath.

That thing had been inside her.

All of it.

Her thighs pressed together involuntarily as muscle memory provided vivid flashbacks of how it felt to be split open and claimed.

She swallowed hard.

Then she leaned forward.

Her hair spilled over his thighs like a purple waterfall as she lowered her head. Close enough now to feel the warmth radiating from his skin. To smell the musky scent of him mixed with her own lingering perfume.

This was her king.

And she would worship him properly.

Her tongue darted out, tracing a slow line from base to tip. The taste exploded across her senses, salt and musk and something uniquely him that made her core clench with need. She moaned softly, the sound barely audible in the quiet room.

She took the head into her mouth.

Or tried to.

Her jaw stretched wide, lips straining around the thick crown. Even soft, he was too much for her. She could barely fit the tip past her teeth. Drool gathered at the corners of her mouth as she worked, hollowing her cheeks, using her tongue to trace the prominent vein running along the underside.

He began to harden.

The change was dramatic. What had been merely large became massive, the girth increasing until her jaw ached with the strain of keeping her mouth open wide enough. She pulled back slightly, letting him slip free with a wet pop.

"Fuck," she whispered, staring at what she'd created.

He was fully erect now, standing proud and thick from between his legs. The sight made her mouth water and her pussy clench. She wrapped both hands around the shaft, her fingers not quite meeting, and pumped slowly.

Her voice came out rough, barely above a murmur.

"Just lay there. Let your queen take care of you."

She lowered her head again, taking him back into her mouth. The wet, obscene sounds of her efforts filled the room. Slurping. Sucking. The occasional gag when she tried to take too much too fast.

Satori's breathing changed.

She felt the exact moment he woke. The subtle shift in his body, the tension that entered his muscles. His hips jerked involuntarily when her tongue found a particularly sensitive spot.

Then his hand was in her hair.

Not pulling. Just resting there, fingers threading through the purple strands. Acknowledging what she was doing without interfering.

She looked up at him through her lashes.

His eyes were open now, watching her with that dark, hungry intensity that made her feel stripped bare. He didn't speak. Didn't move beyond the steady rise and fall of his chest. Just let her work, his gaze tracking every bob of her head, every swirl of her tongue.

The power dynamic should have been obvious. She was on her knees, literally servicing him.

But the look in his eyes told her something different.

He was letting her have this. Letting her show him what he meant to her in the only language that felt adequate.

She pulled back, releasing him with a wet plop. Saliva connected her lips to his cock in thin strands. She pumped him with both hands, keeping the stimulation constant while she caught her breath.

"Good morning," she said, her voice absolutely wrecked.

Something shifted in his expression.

Before she could react, his hands were on her waist. He moved with impossible speed and strength, lifting her bodily from between his legs. She let out a startled gasp as he flipped her onto her back, the mattress bouncing beneath her.

Then he was between her thighs.

The position change left her dizzy. One moment she'd been in control, the next she was pinned beneath him, his weight pressing her into the sheets.

His mouth found hers in a bruising kiss that tasted like possession and claimed ownership. She moaned into it, arching up against him.

She felt the blunt head of his cock pressing against her entrance.

"Wait, I need—"

He slammed home.

Every. Single. Inch.

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