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A broken sob escapes me, my hands clutching at the desk as tears prick at the corners of my eyes. “Please,” I whisper, my voice trembling with frustration and need.

He pulls his hand away entirely, leaving me aching and empty, and I let out a choked sound of protest. His fiery eyes meet mine, dark with intent, and he leans in, brushing his lips against my ear as he purrs, “I told you I wanted to learn how patient you can be.”

The taunting words ignite me. I wrap my legs tighter around his waist and pull him closer.

“Not very patient at all.” My hand slides between us, wrapping around his cock. I groan as I feel the size of it, the weight of it in my palm, and begin to stroke. His breath hitches, his control faltering as I hold his gaze and line him up at my entrance. “Now fuck me, Prince.”

His eyes flare, but he doesn’t argue.

With one swift motion, he pushes into me, filling me completely, and the air leaves my lungs in a gasp that borders on a cry. The stretch, the fullness, the sheer intensity of him steals every coherent thought from my mind.

My hands clutch at his back, fingernails digging into skin, and his mouth finds the curve of my shoulder, the soft underside of my jaw. He stays there, his hard length buried inside me, shuddering like he’s barely holding on.

“Gods,” he breathes. “You’re going to be the death of me, Poison.”

A wicked smile curls my lips as I shift my hips. “What a way to go.”

The words seem to break something in him. His control shatters, and he pulls back, only to thrust into me again, harder this time. He places a hand on my lower stomach, pushing down as he angles himself, shifting slightly. And then he finds it—that perfect spot deep inside me that makes my vision blur and my breath hitch as he continues his punishing strokes.

“Oh gods,” I gasp, and my eyes flutter shut.

“Eyes on me while I fuck you, Poison.”

I force my gaze to meet his, and the intensity in his fiery eyes steals what little breath I have left. It’s raw and consuming, a connection so deep it feels like he’s unraveling me from the inside out.

He pulls me up toward him, and his lips find mine again, kissing me with a desperate intensity. I kiss him back as fiercely, pouring every ounce of my want, frustration, and need into him.

What follows is frantic. Each thrust of his hips is a confession. Each moan he swallows from my mouth is another secret peeled bare. My body starts to tremble as euphoria builds and my core tightens around him.

He presses his forehead to mine, breath ragged. “Say my name.”

“Kallias,” I sob.

He groans low in his throat, and the sound sends me over the edge.

Pleasure crashes over me, and I splinter like every part of me has been broken open to make space for him. He follows with a curse against my skin, his grip tightening further. His body shudders, his hips thrusting one last time as he spills into me, his release a surrender, a man giving in completely.

Our bodies tremble as his forehead rests against mine, the heat of him still inside me, the sound of our ragged breaths filling the room. My hands remain tangled in his hair, his grip still iron at my hips.

He leans back, and his eyes pass over my body like he’s memorizing the way I look. Ruined and real in his arms.

Then, slowly—deliberately—he pushes deeper, a fraction more, and it lands like a dare. His hands slide up my back, flattening me against him as if he could press himself into my very bones. I moan, fingers curling tighter in his hair, legs tightening around his waist in challenge.

He hisses through his teeth. “You want to test me, Poison?”

My lips part, but I don’t answer. My body speaks for me—every tremble, every clutch of muscle a defiant invitation. Try me.

A low sound escapes him, somewhere between a groan and a laugh, before his expression sobers again. “Tell me you don’t regret it,” he murmurs, barely more than a breath.

I hold his gaze, unflinching. “I don’t,” I whisper. “But I won’t be sent away.”

His breath stutters. Something wrecked and wanting shatters across his face.

“I couldn’t let you leave,” he says, voice cracking open, “even if I tried.”

I press my forehead to his again. My chest rises and falls against him. And we stay there—tangled, breathless, trembling in the aftermath.

Chapter 35