Chapter 192: One Night Without Rules***

Chapter 192: Chapter 192: One Night Without Rules***

Giselle pulled my belt open, dragged the waistband down, and shoved me backward onto the bed in one clean motion.

I caught her wrist on the way down and pulled.

She lost balance just enough to fall forward, her naked body covering mine, white hair spilling across my chest and shoulders.

We kissed like the argument was still happening.

My hands went to her throat, not squeezing, just holding her there so she couldn’t pull away whenever she felt like reclaiming control.

Her skin was hot.

The fragment under my ribs pulsed in hard agreement.

"You’re hard."

"...Always has been."

Her lips curved against my mouth.

One of her hands slid up and settled around my neck the same way mine held hers, not a full choke, just enough pressure to pin me to the mattress and remind me she could make it one if she wanted.

The other hand reached behind her, found my cock, and wrapped around it with deliberate tightness.

"Hey..."

My hips jerked before I could stop them.

"Easy there..."

Giselle’s eyes lit with something sharp and satisfied.

"So you do react."

"Of course I react. You’re stroking me."

She did it again, slower, thumb dragging over the head where I was already leaking.

The pressure on my throat increased a fraction.

The Hunger liked both sensations equally, which was starting to become a problem.

"You do it," she said.

"Do what?"

"Moan for me."

"You wish."

Giselle’s palm wrapped around my cock harder.

"...Do it"

"Make me."

She leaned down and kissed me instead, hard enough that her teeth caught my lower lip.

Her hair fell around our faces like a curtain, shutting out the expensive suite, the city beyond the glass, the entire political mess waiting for morning.

There was only her mouth, her weight, and the tight, maddening stroke of her hand.

It had been too long.

The last time I had been inside anyone was Jenna: controlled, careful, regulation work that still ended with both of us shaking.

Before Draven’s little kidnapping, I had been one night away from finally having Gianna properly, and Rei had been circling like she was done waiting.

Instead I was here, pinned under the Empress’s daughter, cock aching in her fist while the fragment of her own core fed on every spike of heat I produced.

If only—

Slap.

The open-handed strike across my cheek snapped my eyes open.

"What the fuck?"

Giselle’s red stare was inches from mine.

"When I am here...," she said, voice low and precise, "you focus only on me."

Something in my expression must have changed, because her breath caught.

I pushed upward against the hand at my throat, using strength I usually kept leashed, and dragged her higher until my mouth found her breast.

I closed over the nipple and sucked hard.

Giselle’s spine arched.

Her fingers locked in my hair and pulled, but she didn’t drag me off.

"That’s... right—"

I bit down gently and felt the tremor run through her.

A real sound finally escaped: short, broken, almost angry at itself.

"Ahhh... hnn—"

Whatever permission she had given herself lasted only seconds.

Power flared under her skin.

She shoved me flat again with enough force that the mattress dipped.

Before I could recover, she had already shifted, knees bracketing my hips, the soaked heat of her cunt sliding over the head of my cock in a slow, deliberate tease.

She didn’t take me in.

Her ass just rubbed, coating me, letting me feel exactly how ready she was while denying both of us.

"...Tell me you want it."

"I do."

"Beg."

The word was a whisper against my mouth.

I held her gaze and answered without theatrics.

"I want you."

Giselle smiled small, victorious.

For one second I thought she would finally sink and end the torture.

Instead, she moved sideways, hair trailing across my stomach, and took me into her mouth in one smooth, ruthless motion.

Wet heat. Tight suction. No warning.

"Fuck—"

The sound tore out of me before I could lock it down.

Giselle made a low, pleased noise around my cock and took me deeper, one hand wrapping the base while her tongue worked the underside.

The hand that had been at my throat moved to my hip and pinned it to the bed so I couldn’t thrust.

[Direct Oral Contact Confirmed]

[Target: Giselle]

[Host arousal: 94%]

[Energy transfer: Moderate — Stable]

[Fragment resonance: High — Synchronising]

She pulled back just far enough to speak, lips still brushing the head.

"There it is. I knew you had sounds in you."

"Giselle—"

"Stay still."

She swallowed me again, slower this time, testing how deep she could go before her throat tightened.

My hands fisted in the sheets.

The Hunger howled for more: for her pussy, for the claim, for everything she was still holding back.

I forced it down and focused on the wet rhythm of her mouth and the way her free hand occasionally squeezed the base like she was measuring how close I already was.

"You’re... You’re good at this."

When she lifted off again, a thin string of saliva connected her lower lip to my cock. Her eyes were almost black.

"You taste like you haven’t been touched in weeks."

"I haven’t."

"Good."

She licked a slow stripe from base to tip and then took me to the back of her throat in one motion.

My hips tried to rise.

Her pinning hand slammed them back down.

The sound of her sucking filled the quiet suite.

Every time I got close, she eased off, breathed, and started again, building the pressure without ever giving the release.

I reached down and threaded my fingers into her white hair, not forcing, just holding.

She allowed it for three strokes, then pulled off completely and climbed back up my body until she was straddling my waist again, cunt sliding along the length of my cock without taking it inside.

"You’re shaking harder than I was in the elevator," she observed.

"You’re... evil."

"I’m thorough."

She rolled her hips once, deliberately, letting every inch of me feel how wet she had become.

"Say it again."

"I want you."

"Louder."

"I want you, Giselle."

Her pupils flared.

For a second, the political mask, the Empress’s daughter, the woman who calculated every public claim, all of it dropped.

What looked down at me was simply hungry.

She reached between us, lined me up, and still didn’t sink.

Giselle held there, the head pressed against her entrance, heat and pressure and denial all at once.

"If we do this," she said, voice rough, "we do it all the way."