Letting Out Pent up Frustrations

Krishna slammed the door behind her with more force than necessary, the echo rattling through her apartment like the tail end of a storm.

Her heels clicked across the marble floor with sharp, angry intent as she shrugged off her blazer, tossing it carelessly over a chair.

Another meeting. Another passive-aggressive lecture from Lorenzo. Another cold, silent stare from Harlan. Another day pretending she wasn't ten seconds from flipping a boardroom table and setting the building on fire.

And Lucius…

Well. Lucius was settling into his new role just fine. Too fine, actually. Acting like he wasn't still dangling on the leash she'd wrapped around his pride.

But tonight…

Tonight wasn't about Lucius.

Her gaze slid to the figure waiting faithfully by her window.

Aaron Triton.

Kneeling, head bowed, still dressed in the tailored suit he wore to the company's PR luncheon earlier—where he'd played the obedient, silent shadow at her side like the good little pet he was.

"Up," she commanded, snapping her fingers once.

Aaron rose immediately, eyes dark with anticipation, already reading the tension in her shoulders, the sharp bite of her perfume, how it smelled sweeter and meaner when she was pissed.

She stalked toward him, one slow step at a time, until he was backed up against the wall.

Her fingers curled into his tie, yanking it loose with practiced ease.

"You're lucky," she muttered, voice low, almost breathless from suppressed rage. "I need to break something tonight. And you're just soft enough to keep coming back for more."

Aaron's breath caught, but he didn't resist. His hands stayed loose at his sides like he already knew better than to touch her unless invited.

Krishna shoved him into the wall with a flat palm to his chest, holding him there as she pressed close, just enough for him to feel the heat of her frustration simmering through her skin.

Her mouth hovered at his ear.

"You ever think about why I keep you around?" she whispered, letting her nails drag lightly down his stomach through the thin fabric of his shirt. "It's not because I like you."

Aaron swallowed thickly, panting just from the sound of her voice.

"It's because you're good at breaking… and better at begging."

Her hands moved lower, knowing exactly where to press, exactly how much to tease before pulling back again.

He whimpered, already trembling under her touch, already halfway undone from just a few words and the graze of her fingertips.

Krishna pulled back, letting him see the lazy, dangerous grin curling across her lips.

"Strip."

The word landed like a gunshot.

Aaron's jacket hit the floor first, followed quickly by his shirt, his belt, piece by piece until he stood there flushed and panting, stripped down and trembling with anticipation, like some overbred lapdog desperate for scraps.

Krishna circled him like a predator stalking a cornered thing.

Her own frustration, weeks of backroom politics, corporate chess, and being dismissed like she didn't matter, finally boiling over.

"You think you're my stress toy, don't you?" she asked, letting her fingers tangle in his hair, yanking his head back just enough for him to meet her eyes.

Aaron gasped, lips parted, too far gone to even form words anymore.

Krishna's smirk deepened.

"You're right."

She pushed him down to his knees, her foot pressing lightly against his shoulder, keeping him there like she was pinning him in place without needing full weight.

Krishna, didn't need to prep him, he's always ready. She mounted him. Every grind comes with a curse, every thrust comes with anger, every inch of her burned, hot, wild, and mean, with every ounce of irritation the Debonair family had poured into her bloodstream since morning.

And Aaron?

He took it all.

Every slap of her voice. Every bite of her nails. Every soft, cruel laugh when he cried out and begged for more.

The apartment filled with the low, messy sound of him, his whimpers, his shaky breath, the way he choked on her name like it was both a prayer and a curse.

By the time she was done with him, he lay there on the living room floor, flushed, sweat-damp, shaking… absolutely wrecked.

Krishna sat back on the couch, legs crossed, finally feeling the edge of her fury dull to something manageable.

Aaron crawled toward her, instinctive, desperate for her attention, resting his head against her knee like some oversized, ruined pet seeking affection.

She let him.

Let her fingers card lazily through his damp hair, scratching gently at his scalp like she was petting a cat instead of the broken Alpha sprawled at her feet.

For a while, there was only the sound of his ragged breathing and the faint hum of traffic from the city outside.

Then Krishna tilted her head, smiling down at him with that same tired wickedness she wore after every battle.

"Feel better now?" Aaron asked, voice rough and worn, still catching his breath.

Krishna chuckled low in her throat.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I do."

Her gaze darkened.

"But if Lorenzo calls me into another pointless meeting tomorrow…?"

She leaned down, brushing her lips against his temple like a lover's kiss, soft, sweet, but chilling when paired with her next words.

"You'll be crawling again by nightfall."

Aaron smiled into her leg, too blissed out to care.

"Looking forward to it, ma'am."

Krishna smirked… and finally, finally let herself relax.

Her dog was fed.

Her temper was settled.

And tomorrow?

If the world wanted war again…

She'd be ready.