A CROWN OF THORNS AND DEFIANCE

The room was thick with heat—heavy and stifling—as Lucien fucked her like he had something to prove. And maybe he did.

Estella's wrists were still pinned above her head, her body spread wide beneath him as he drove into her—deep, rough, and completely fucking unyielding.

"Still not impressed?" he growled, his breath hot against her ear.

She laughed—sharp and breathless—despite the tremble in her thighs. "Is this supposed to be your best, Your Majesty?" Her voice dripped with mock sweetness. "Because I've had rougher rides from a damn horse."

Lucien's jaw clenched, and something darker flashed in his silver eyes. "You've got a filthy fucking mouth," he muttered, snapping his hips forward hard enough to make her gasp. "And I'm going to ruin every inch of it."

"Big talk," she taunted, tilting her head. "But I'm still waiting to—"

He didn't let her finish.

With a feral growl, he flipped her onto her stomach, dragging her hips up until she was on her knees. "You want rough?" he murmured darkly, sliding his cock along her slick folds. "You should've fucking said so."

And without another word, he thrust back into her—so deep it knocked the breath from her lungs.

"Fuck—" she gasped, her nails digging into the sheets as he pounded into her like he wanted to break her.

"Poor little rebel," Lucien mocked, his grip on her waist bruising. "You talk so much shit—but here you are, taking my cock like you fucking love it."

Estella moaned despite herself—despite the fire in her blood and the raw ache between her thighs. "You wish," she spat, though her voice shook with every thrust.

Lucien laughed softly—a cruel, dangerous sound. "Sweetheart," he drawled, dragging his hand down her spine, "you're soaking fucking wet. Admit it—you like it when I fuck you like I own you."

She bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, refusing to give him the satisfaction. "You couldn't own me if you tried."

That did it.

Lucien pulled out just long enough to spin her around and shove her back against the bed. In an instant, he was between her thighs again, stretching her open with one brutal thrust.

"You feel that?" he hissed, his fingers wrapping around her throat—not choking, just holding her still. "That's me owning every fucking inch of you."

Estella smirked, though her body trembled beneath him. "You talk too much, Your Majesty," she whispered, her voice dripping with venom. "Is this the best you've got?"

Lucien's silver eyes burned with something raw and untamed. "You're going to regret that fucking mouth," he promised, his thrusts turning ruthless—hard and fast, dragging her closer to the edge whether she wanted it or not.

"You'll have to try harder," she panted, though the pleasure was already clawing through her veins.

"Oh, I plan to," he growled, lowering his mouth to her breast and biting down—hard—enough to make her cry out. "And when you come on my cock again, I want to hear you scream my name."

Estella arched beneath him, her pride and defiance slipping with every brutal stroke. She was drowning in the feel of him—the rough drag of his cock, the heat of his mouth, the sharp edge of his control.

And fuck—she hated how good it felt.

"You're close," Lucien rasped, dragging his teeth along her jaw. "I can feel it—this tight little cunt is begging for me."

"Fuck you," she spat, even as her body trembled violently beneath him.

Lucien grinned wickedly. "You already are, sweetheart."

His hand slid between them, his fingers finding her clit and rubbing circles that were anything but gentle. "Come for me," he ordered, his voice rough with authority. "And say my fucking name while you do it."

And gods—she couldn't fight it.

Her release tore through her like wildfire, her body clenching tight around him as the orgasm ripped her pride to shreds. She gasped his name—too loud, too broken—and felt his answering groan vibrate against her skin.

"Good girl," he murmured, his thrusts turning erratic as he chased his own release. "You're mine now."

With one last, bruising thrust, he spilled inside her—hot and claiming—his grip on her hips bruising as he held her against him.

For a long moment, the world narrowed to the sound of their ragged breaths and the heat still crackling between them.

Lucien leaned down, brushing his lips over her bruised throat. "Still not impressed?"

Estella, despite the tremor in her limbs, tilted her chin up with a dangerous smile. "I've had better."

His laughter was low and lethal. "You're begging for another round."

"And you're still an arrogant bastard," she shot back.

Lucien grinned against her skin. "And yet—you can't seem to stay out of my bed."

---

Meanwhile…

Valeria stood in the shadows just beyond Lucien's chambers, her hands curled into fists. The sound of Estella's moans still echoed in her ears—mocking her.

The little bitch thought she had won.

Valeria smiled coldly to herself. Let her think that.

Because soon enough, the emperor wouldn't just lose interest.

He'd destroy her.

And when that day came—Valeria would make sure Estella suffered.