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“Do you really?” His fingers dig into my thighs, in the same searing spot I asked him to stop. He hasn’t moved further up. He won’t, and god, how I wish he would. “Would you hate me still, once I fuck you senseless? Or will you beg to come back where you belong?”

“You can fuck me however you want.” I lean up, speaking into the edge of his neck until he stiffens. “And I’ll still walk out. You want to test me?”

“What are you doing, Aria?” he growls, finally skimming his fingers up, so very close to my core.

“I’m going to prove you wrong.” I bite into his neck, and he groans.

God, I should move away. We’re in public, surrounded by the most people.

But my body remembers him too well—every touch burned into me like a brand. He’s the fire I should never touch again, and yet I burn for him. Like poison I’d choose again and again.

“Touch me. Take what you want,” I bite out. “But when it’s over, I walk—and you don’t get to stop me.”

“Be careful what you wish for, Aria,” he hisses back in anger, his fingers now scaling up until they’re at the edge of my panties. He smiles against my throat, teeth grazing the sensitive spot below my ear that he knows drives me wild. “Hate me all you want. But admit that you miss this.”

“I miss proving you wrong,” I whisper. “I’m going to enjoy walking away when you’re done trying to seduce me back into your bed.”

His fingers find my entrance, circling slowly, teasing but not entering. I’m trembling now, torn between the desire to push myself over his fingers and the desire to beg him to continue.

“Say it,” he commands, his thumb brushing lightly over my clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through me that makes my knees weak. “Say you miss me.”

“No,” I gasp, defiant even as my body melts for him.

“Say you want me,” he commands.

His fingers stop moving, and I have to bite back a whimper of frustration. “Say it, Aria. Tell me you miss me, and I’ll give you what you need.”

I glare at him, hatred and desire twisting inside me, sharp and unbearable—something toxic, something intoxicating.

I want him. I hate him. I ache for him and despise him in the same breath. This is what loving a monster feels like—fire that doesn’t warm, only burns.

“Is that what this is about? Your wounded ego? You can’t stand that I walked away. That I chose blood and legacy over you.”

I take a breath that cuts going down.

“Fine. You want the truth? I want you. God help me, I want you.”

My voice breaks, but I don’t stop.

“I want your hands on me, your mouth, your body pinning mine down until I forget how to breathe. But don’t confuse that with missing you.”

I meet his eyes, unflinching.

“So yes, I want you. But I will never wish for you back.”

A lie. But one I’ve nailed to my lips like armor. I’ve admitted too much already.

His eyes darken, and just when I think I might break and say more, say what he needs to move forward, he slides two fingers deep inside me. I have to clamp my lips shut to keep from crying out, my body clenching around the sudden intrusion.

“This isn’t about my ego,” he says, his voice rough with an emotion I can’t name. “This is about reminding you that whatever game you think you’re playing, whatever throne you think you’re claiming, your body still belongs to me.”

He begins to move his fingers, curling them forward to press against that spot inside me that makes stars explode behind my eyelids. His thumb circles my clit with devastating precision, and I have to grip his shoulders to remain standing.

“Fuck,” I gasp, trying to stay in control—but my hips respond, grinding into his hand.

“I thought you didn’t miss me,” he murmurs, his lips brushing mine in a phantom kiss. “You want me to make you come, right here, with half the city’s underworld twenty feet away. You want me to remind you what you’re missing by playing at being a queen instead of being my wife.”

His fingers increase their pace, and I’m helpless against the building pleasure. My nails dig into his shoulders, and I know I should push him away, walk away like I promised I would. But God help me, I need this release like I need air.

“That’s it,” Marco encourages as my breathing hitches, my inner walls beginning to flutter around his fingers. “Let go for me, Aria. Show me how much you hate me.”

“You can fight me in the streets, but here?” He strokes deeper. “You still surrender.”

When I think my legs might give out entirely, his other hand tangles in my hair, tugging just hard enough to send a shock of pleasure-pain down my spine. The mixture of sensations—his fingers inside me, his thumb on my clit, his grip in my hair—pushes me toward the edge.

“I still hate you,” I whisper, my voice breaking as the pressure builds to unbearable heights.

“I know,” he says, and there’s something like tenderness in his voice that hurts more than cruelty would. “Come for me anyway.”

The words nearly undo me, and I climb higher, closer to the edge of explosion.

“Why did you run from me, Aria? Was it really about the crown—or were you just terrified of how much you needed me?”

Marco whispers against my ear, thrusting deeper, his voice a breath against my skin, his mouth tracing fire along my jaw.

“Stay, and I’ll make you feel like a queen. My queen.”

He curls his fingers one last time, presses down on my clit, and I shatter.

My orgasm rips through me with violent intensity, my body clenching rhythmically around his fingers as waves of pleasure crash over me.

Only his body pressed against mine and his hand in my hair keep me upright as I tremble through the aftershocks.

Marco groans against my skin, satisfied. “There she is.”

I exhale sharply, my body still trembling.

“You think that changes anything?” I straighten my dress with trembling hands, fury burning through the lingering pleasure. “You think making me come means I’ll just forgive everything and crawl back to you?”

His smile fades, replaced by something harder, more intense. “I think it reminds us both of what’s real, Aria. Not these games you’re playing. What’s real is what’s between us.”

“What’s between us is over.” I lean in and whisper in his ear, “I ran because I would never let my child be raised by a monster.”