The political pressure had reached a fever pitch, but inside the treatment room, only one voice mattered.
Justin’s answer still echoed between us — his complete, peaceful surrender. He wanted to stay broken. He wanted to remain hidden. He wanted nothing but this: on his knees, leaking, dependent, owned.
I kept him exactly there while the dawn light strengthened.
I straddled his lap once more, sinking down onto his throbbing c**k in one slow, claiming glide. The neutral sensitizer made every inch feel like molten silk wrapped in fire. I rode him with luxurious, unhurried rolls of my hips, deep and possessive, while the memories of the Princess surfaced like poison.
“She was never just a political match,” I whispered against his ear, grinding down hard. “She was the chosen one. The perfe
