Lucian’s breath still came in ragged gasps as Gideon pulled out, the heavy heat between them unbroken. The prince’s skin flushed deep pink, raw from the marks Gideon left, and the ache of need still pulsed thick in his veins. But his eyes—those fierce, emerald eyes—were wide with something new: awe edged with fear.
Gideon didn’t give him a moment to gather himself. His hands gripped Lucian’s jaw, tilting it up so their eyes locked.
“You’re not some spoiled toy to be played with and tossed aside,” Gideon said, voice low and commanding, like a storm held just on the edge of breaking. “You’re mine to break and rebuild.”
Lucian swallowed hard, his pride bruised but still fighting. “And if I don’t want that?”
Gideon’s grin was merciless. “You don’t get a choice.”
With a swift motion, Gideo
