Lylie barely had time to catch her breath before Michael's lips were on hers again—hungry, possessive, unforgiving.
This wasn't the cold, distant king she had married.
This was something darker.
Something raw.
His hands gripped her waist, fingers digging into the silk of her gown as he pressed her back against the wall.
Lylie gasped as his mouth trailed down her neck, teeth scraping lightly against her skin before he bit.
Not hard enough to hurt—just enough to claim.
A shiver ran through her.
"M-Michael—"
His hands tightened. "Say it again."
Lylie blinked, breathless. "What?"
"My name." His voice was low, a command wrapped in velvet. "Say it again."
Lylie's lips parted. "Michael."
A slow smirk curled at the corner of his mouth.
"Good girl."
Heat pooled in her stomach.
This was new.
The ruthless king, the cold and calculating ruler—he had never looked at her like this before.
Like she was his to take.