Chapter Three: Beneath the Crown

Estella barely had time to catch her breath before Lucien's mouth was on her again—hot, rough, and completely unforgiving. He pinned her beneath him with that hard, unyielding body, his grip on her wrists tightening just enough to remind her who was in charge.

Or who thought he was.

"You think you're so fucking clever," he murmured against her lips, dragging his teeth along her jaw. "Mouthy little brat—always pushing, always testing."

A wicked smile curled her lips. "What's wrong, Your Majesty?" she taunted. "Not used to someone telling you to fuck off?"

His answer was a low growl that sent a shiver curling down her spine. Without another word, he grabbed the thin strap of her dress and yanked—hard—tearing the silk down the center.

"Hey!" Estella gasped, half-laughing, half-outraged. "That was expensive, you bastard."

"I'll buy you a hundred more," he muttered, dragging the ruined dress off her body and tossing it aside. "But right now? You're mine."

And gods—he devoured her.

His mouth was everywhere at once—rough kisses trailing down her neck, sharp teeth scraping against the swell of her breast. He sucked a nipple between his lips, biting down just enough to make her hips buck beneath him.

"You taste better than you deserve," he growled against her skin, his voice rough with hunger.

"And you talk too much," she snapped, despite the heat pooling low in her belly.

Lucien lifted his head, silver eyes blazing. "Fine," he said softly. "Let's shut you up."

Before she could fire back, his hand slid between her thighs—fingers stroking the slick heat already waiting for him.

A gasp escaped her lips before she could stop it.

"Look at you," he murmured, dragging his fingers along her soaked folds. "For all your attitude, you're already this wet for me."

Estella bit her lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a moan. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm just bored."

His eyes gleamed with dark amusement. "Bored?" He slipped one long finger inside her, slow and deliberate. "Let's see how bored you are when you're begging for me to fuck you harder."

Her breath hitched, but she didn't back down. "I don't beg."

"You will."

A second finger joined the first, stretching her open as he curled them just right—dragging against that spot inside her that made stars burst behind her eyelids.

And still—she refused to break.

"Is that all you've got?" she taunted, arching her back beneath his touch. "I thought you were supposed to be dangerous."

Lucien's mouth curled into a cruel smile. "You're going to regret that mouth, Estella."

His fingers withdrew suddenly, leaving her aching and empty, but before she could protest, he shoved her thighs wide open and dropped to his knees.

Her heart slammed against her ribs.

"W-what—"

"You wanted dangerous?" His breath was hot against her inner thigh as he pressed a rough kiss there. "I'll give you fucking dangerous."

And then his mouth was on her.

A sharp cry escaped her throat as his tongue found her clit—hot and demanding, like he was trying to punish her through pleasure alone. He licked her slowly at first, dragging the flat of his tongue against her until she was squirming beneath him.

"Still bored?" he murmured against her, his fingers digging into her thighs to hold her in place.

"Y-you wish," she panted, though her defiance cracked as his tongue flicked against her with merciless precision.

Lucien chuckled darkly—like he loved watching her fight against her own pleasure. "Let's see how long that attitude lasts when I make you come on my tongue."

And gods—he meant it.

He ate her like a man possessed, his mouth working her with rough, devastating precision. His tongue circled her clit, flicking and teasing until her thighs trembled against his shoulders.

"Fuck—" she gasped, her head falling back against the bed. "Lucien—"

He hummed against her, the vibrations sending another jolt of heat spiraling through her. His fingers returned—thrusting deep inside her while his tongue worked her clit in sharp, dizzying strokes.

Estella's pride clung on by a thread, but her body was already betraying her—hips grinding against his mouth as she chased the release building deep in her core.

"You're so close," he murmured, his tone dark and satisfied. "I can feel it—your sweet little pussy's about to fall apart for me."

"Go to hell," she spat—but her voice broke on a moan as his fingers curled just right, dragging against that perfect spot inside her.

Lucien lifted his head just enough to meet her eyes. "Come for me," he ordered, his voice rough and raw. "Now."

And gods—she did.

Her orgasm hit her like wildfire, burning through every nerve as she cried out his name. Her body clenched around his fingers, thighs shaking as waves of pleasure rolled through her.

By the time the last tremor faded, she was breathless, heart pounding like she'd survived a war.

But Lucien?

He wasn't finished.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his silver eyes blazing as he stood and undid the fastenings of his trousers.

"Still think you're in charge?" he taunted, his voice thick with hunger.

Estella's mouth curled into a defiant smile. "I'm still not impressed."

Lucien laughed softly—dangerously. "You're about to be."

And before she could answer, he pushed her thighs apart and thrust into her—hard.

Her breath vanished as he filled her completely—thick and deep, stretching her until she felt every inch of him.

"You're so fucking tight," he growled, dragging her hips closer. "Like you were made to take me."

Estella bit back a moan, refusing to give in. "Is that all you've got?"

His eyes flashed with something dark and wicked. "Careful, little rebel. I can ruin you if I want to."

"Then do it," she dared, digging her nails into his back. "Or are you too scared?"

Lucien didn't answer.

He just fucked her harder.

Lucien's body pressed against hers—hot, heavy, and utterly relentless. Every thrust was rough, claiming, like he wanted to leave his mark on her soul as much as her body.

But Estella—she refused to be conquered.

"You're quiet, little rebel," he murmured, dragging his teeth along the curve of her throat. "Where's that sharp tongue now?"

She lifted her chin, biting back the cry threatening to escape her lips. "I'm just trying not to fall asleep," she taunted, even as her nails dug deeper into his back.

Lucien growled—a sound low and primal—as he pulled out almost completely before slamming back into her. The sudden stretch made her gasp, her body trembling beneath him.

"Still unimpressed?" His voice was a dark promise against her ear.

Her pride flared, even as a sharp ache burned between her thighs. "I've had worse."

"Liar," he hissed, catching her mouth in a bruising kiss.

And gods—he wasn't gentle.

His thrusts grew rougher, deeper, pushing past the tight resistance of her virgin body. He could feel it—the way she clenched around him, her body unused to this intrusion.

"You're so tight," he groaned, dragging his mouth down her neck. "This little pussy's never been touched, has it?"

Her heart pounded as heat flushed her skin. She wanted to deny it—wanted to throw one last insult in his face—but she couldn't. He already knew.

"Say it," he demanded, lifting her legs higher to thrust even deeper. "No one's ever fucked you before, have they?"

A fierce blush crept up her throat, but she refused to look away. "What's the matter, Your Majesty? Does my virginity make you feel special?"

Lucien's laugh was low and wicked as he drove into her again, tearing a broken moan from her lips. "It means you're mine," he said, dragging his teeth along her jaw. "I'm the first—and the only—man who'll ever have you like this."

Estella's body clenched around him at those words, her pride battling the raw, unfamiliar pleasure. "You're full of yourself," she gasped, though the sharp stretch made her legs tremble.

"And you're already falling apart," he murmured, his thumb brushing rough circles over her clit. "Do you feel that? How your sweet little cunt is squeezing me? You're soaking wet, Estella—and it's all for me."

A shudder rolled through her, a mix of pain and pleasure that left her breathless. She wanted to fight him. Wanted to claw her way back to control—but gods, her body was betraying her.

"You wanted this," he growled, pressing a kiss to her throat as his hips slammed against hers. "No one else has ever touched you here—no one else has ever felt how tight you are."

"B-bastard," she stammered, hating the way her body ached for more.

Lucien caught her chin, forcing her gaze to his. "Look at me," he ordered, his voice rougher now. "I want you to remember exactly who's inside you—who's ruining you for anyone else."

Her breath hitched as his fingers tightened on her jaw. "I hate you," she spat, though the pleasure curling low in her belly told a different story.

"Good." His thrusts grew rougher, dragging another gasp from her lips. "Hate me all you want, little rebel—but you'll still come on my cock."

The filthy words sent a pulse of heat straight through her. Her body trembled beneath him—caught between the lingering pain of her first time and the undeniable pleasure building with every ruthless stroke.

"You're mine," he repeated, his hand sliding down to grip her hip hard enough to leave bruises. "And I don't share."

Estella should've hated the possessiveness in his tone. She did hate it. But gods, it made her pulse race, her body clenching tighter around him.

"Say it," Lucien demanded, his mouth hot against her ear. "Tell me I'm the first to fuck you."

"No," she hissed, biting her lip against the cry building in her throat.

Lucien's laugh was dark and full of promise. "Stubborn little thing," he murmured, his fingers dragging over her swollen clit again. "Let's see how long you last."

And then—gods—he gave her everything.

His rhythm shifted—slow, deep, and devastatingly thorough. Every thrust rubbed against the sensitive spot inside her, pushing her closer to the edge. His mouth never stopped—kissing, biting, marking her as his.

"You're going to come for me," he murmured, his voice thick with hunger. "And when you do—you'll know exactly who owns you."

Her body trembled violently beneath him, heat building low and sharp. "F-fuck," she gasped, her pride slipping with every wicked stroke.

Lucien groaned, his hand tightening on her thigh as he drove himself deeper. "You feel so fucking good—so perfect around me. Let go, Estella. Let me feel you break."

And gods—she did.

Her release hit her like lightning, tearing through every nerve as her body clenched tight around him. A raw, broken sound escaped her lips, her pride shattered by the force of her pleasure.

Lucien cursed softly, his thrusts turning rough and erratic as he chased his own release. With a final, brutal stroke, he spilled inside her—hot and claiming—his grip on her body almost bruising.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

The only sound in the room was their ragged breathing—the air heavy with everything they refused to say.

Lucien was the first to break the silence. "Still not impressed?" he murmured, brushing a lock of hair from her face.

Estella—despite the ache between her thighs, despite the fire still burning through her blood—smirked up at him. "I've had worse."

His answering laugh was low and full of promise. "Careful, little rebel. You're tempting me to ruin you all over again."

And from the heat in his gaze—she knew he meant it.