The study was filled with the dense scent of ink, sweat, and their release.
Xion's trembling form splayed across the cold surface like an offering to some unholy altar. And Darius was standing there, watching as his cum slowly trailed down the inside of a flushed thigh.
Perhaps the table was too cold, he thought absently, gaze flicking to Xion's feet. The soft soles had turned pink by now.
"Come here." Without waiting for an answer, Darius gathered the gasping beauty into his arms, lifting him effortlessly before striding toward the bed.
Xion didn't resist, nor did he stop his tormenter. He let himself be carried in Darius's hold.
Maybe he saw it as penance, like a small price to pay for the wreckage he'd left on their wedding day.
For the princess, he had killed. For all those guards who died in that explosion.
Darius had saved him from both the gallows and from public execution.
