MasukI had known him longer than I had known myself. That was the problem. Jaxon had been around since I was a kid, back when my legs were scraped from climbing trees and my mouth was always full of candy I was not supposed to have. He was my brother’s shadow, his ride or die, the one who slept on our couch and raided our fridge and never once looked at me like I was anything but a nuisance. Until I grew up. And then everything changed. It was never obvious. That was the cruelest part. It was the way his eyes lingered a second too long before he looked away. The way his voice dropped when he said my name. The way he suddenly started finding reasons to leave the room when I walked in wearing shorts that were a little too short and tank tops that were definitely not for family gatherings. I noticed everything. I always had. That night, the house was too quiet. My brother was asleep. The television was off. The hallway light cast a long shadow under Jaxon’s door, and I stood
I don’t know how long he’d been fucking me. All I knew was the throne was soaked. My thighs were trembling. My back was arched. My nipples were hard. And my pussy was still so full of his cock I could barely think. And still, we didn’t stop. Cassian was behind me now. One hand gripped my throat, pulling my head back so my mouth stayed open. The other was on my hip, guiding every thrust like he’d done this a thousand times in his mind before ever touching me. “You wanted this,” he growled in my ear. “Now take it.” “I am taking it,” I panted. “I’m taking it like a fucking queen.” “You’re not the queen.” “I’m not her,” I gasped. “I’m better.” I looked up. And that was when the door opened. I didn’t even hear it. I didn’t feel anything at all—until I saw her. Standing there. Crown still on her head. Mouth frozen in horror. Eyes locked on me. Bent over her throne. Naked. Breathless. With her royal advisor pounding into me from behind. My sister didn’t move. Neither d
I shouldn’t have been in her chambers.But I was.Not by accident. Not by mistake. I waited until the crown was on her head, until the court erupted in cheers, until the people who once whispered “Liora would’ve made a better Queen” finally gave up the fantasy and bowed to her instead.Then I slipped away.I walked past the guards without blinking. Past the long red carpet she’d just stood on. Past the paintings of our ancestors. Past the golden walls that should have been mine.I didn’t flinch. I didn’t look back.I opened the door to her private chamber—the one she always locked. The one only he had the key to. The one they pretended was just for work but smelled like him.And then I stripped.Completely.I sat on her throne.And I waited.I had nothing on but her favorite lipstick and the smug little smirk I’d been dying to wear since I caught him staring at me from behind her shoulder during council.When the door opened, I didn’t move.I just sat there.Naked.Legs parted.Drippi
He didn’t wait for me to move.He grabbed me.One second I was bent over the table, legs shaking, barely able to breathe. The next second, I was on the cold marble floor, flat on my back, hair sprawled, thighs wide open, with his body towering over me like a punishment I begged for.His eyes were black. Not with rage. With restraint that was long gone. His cock was still throbbing, thick and slick with my cum, bobbing as he stared down at me like he’d never seen anything more sacred than the mess he’d already made of me.“You said you wanted ruined,” he rasped.I nodded. Fast. My whole chest rising and falling like I was suffocating on lust.He dropped to his knees.Not to worship.To claim.His hands gripped my knees and pushed them up until they were almost beside my ears, and the second I saw the look in his eyes—the raw, savage hunger—I knew what was coming wasn’t going to be slow or sweet. It was going to break me.And God help me, I wanted to be broken.“Look at me,” he said. Hi
He didn’t carry me gently. He slammed me against that wall like he wanted to break the stone behind my spine. His hands were everywhere. One in my hair, tugging it back to expose my throat. One gripping my thigh, dragging me higher around his waist. His mouth found the base of my neck and sank in deep, leaving a mark no crown could cover. I cried out. Not from pain. From need. “You don’t get to act innocent after this,” he rasped against my skin. “You don’t get to play the good little royal tomorrow while I walk around smelling like your fucking pussy.” “Then don’t,” I gasped. “Don’t pretend either. Look at me when I’m bent over the banquet table. Let everyone know I was yours the night before.” He growled. Then he dropped to his knees. Right there, in the middle of my chambers. My bare thighs still slick from waiting, my back pressed to the wall, and the kingdom’s most feared guard knelt in front of me like he was about to worship his own destruction. He kissed my i
I didn’t move. I didn’t look back. I stayed bent over the velvet chaise, ass up, thighs parted, dripping with royal need. I could feel how wet I was. The cold air kissed my folds. My inner walls throbbed with every beat of my heart. And still, he didn’t touch me. “You don’t know what you’re asking,” he finally said, his voice hoarse like he hadn’t spoken in years. I looked over my shoulder, and what I saw made my nipples tighten all over again. His fists were clenched. His entire body was shaking. There was a war behind his eyes—duty versus desire—and he was losing. “I do know,” I said. “I know exactly what I’m asking. I’m asking the man who watches me with fire in his eyes to finally do something about it.” His breath hitched. His throat bobbed. He looked like he was in pain. “I swore an oath, Princess,” he said. “To protect you. To guard your life. Not—” “To guard my cunt too?” I cut him off, dripping with wicked heat. “Is that it? Are you protecting me from your cock?” His







