The next five hours dissolved into a haze of sweat, skin, and sin.
Phei took her with a hunger that surprised even him: raw, relentless, inventive. He bent her over the mahogany desk and drove into her until the wood creaked. Pinned her against the bookshelves so hard that leather-bound volumes rained down around them.
Folded her nearly in half in Harold's high-backed chair while she clawed at the armrests and sobbed his name. He made her ride him slow, then punishing, twisting her nipples until they bruised purple and tears streaked her cheeks.
When he yanked her hair back and fucked her throat, she gagged willingly, eyes watering.
From behind, he slammed into her so deep she swore she felt him in her spine, her pleas turning into broken, filthy prayers—harder, deeper, ruin me, please.
She came so many times her voice gave out, body shaking through aftershocks that left her limp and trembling. He came four times, each pulse thicker and hotter than the last, flooding her until it spilled out of her in slow, obscene rivulets that soaked the priceless Persian rug beneath them.
And still, Melissa cleaned.
While Phei leaned back, chest heaving, cock slick and gleaming, she'd crawl for tissues and the little bottle of citrus cleaner she kept hidden in the bottom drawer.
She wiped down the desk, the chair, the floor—frantic, methodical—erasing fingerprints, sweat, the evidence of what they'd done. They hadn't used condoms; he'd been bare inside her from the first thrust, and the knowledge made her shiver every time she felt him leak out of her.
"Can't leave evidence," she whispered, voice hoarse, lips swollen and bitten raw, breasts mottled with his teeth marks. "Harold can't know."
By the time they finished, the library looked almost untouched. Almost.
The shattered monitor lay in pieces on the floor like a black glass wound.
"I'll think of something," Melissa had said breathlessly, pulling her robe on with shaking hands. "Tell Harold it fell. Or I knocked it over. Something. Don't worry."
Phei didn't worry. He was too high on victory to worry about anything.
5:47 AM. He stood under the harsh bathroom light scrubbing dried come and her scent from his skin, the buzz still crackling under his ribs.
Then he heard the shower running in the adjoining room, soft hitches of breath that weren't sobs.
He should leave. Job done. Aunt thoroughly, spectacularly fucked into submission. But the memory of her eyes in that last round stopped him—gratitude, not hate. Worship, almost.
"Fuck," he muttered.
He knocked once on the glass door. "Melissa?"
The water cut off. Silence.
"I'm fine," she said, too small.
He pushed the door open anyway.
Melissa stood wrapped in a towel, face scrubbed clean but still flushed and exhausted. She looked up at him with uncertain eyes—the same eyes that used to look at him with contempt.
"You didn't have to come back," she said quietly.
"You didn't have to check on me."
"I know." He grabbed a clean washcloth, ran it under warm water. "Turn around. You missed some spots."
She blinked, then turned, letting the towel drop.
He wiped the dried streaks from her back, her thighs—slow, careful strokes. She trembled under his hands.
"Why are you being gentle and nice to me?" she whispered.
He didn't answer right away. He paused. "I don't know. Maybe because you're... mine now. Kind of."
A shaky breath. "Am I?"
"Turn around."
She did.
He turned her to face him. Studied the woman who'd spent a decade treating him like dirt beneath her Louboutins—now standing naked, marked head to toe by his mouth and hands, looking at him like he might vanish if she blinked.
"You looked just like him, you know," Melissa said suddenly, voice thick. "Your father. My little brother. Every time I saw you, I saw him. And I couldn't..." Her voice cracked. "I couldn't deal with the fact that he was gone and you were all that was left and I just... I failed him. Failed you."
The confession hung between them like smoke.
Phei didn't think. He just leaned in and kissed her—soft, almost tender. Nothing dominant in it. Just a kiss.
When he pulled back, her eyes were wide, stunned.
Phei's chest tightened.
Before he could think better of it, she kissed him.
Soft. Not dominant. Just... a kiss.
Their first real kiss.
When she pulled back, Phei stared at her with wide eyes.
"We're not here to talk about that. Not the time for guilty trips, don't ya think? Get dressed," Phei said. "You need to go back before Harold wakes up."
She pulled on her robe, but instead of leaving, she pressed against him. "Come with me. To your room. Or mine. Let me stay with you."
The need in her voice was raw. Desperate.
Part of him wanted to say yes.
But—
"No."
Her face fell.
"Melissa, it's almost 6 AM. Harold wakes up an hour before you usually do. If he finds you gone from bed, or if anyone sees you coming from my room..." Phei touched her cheek. "This stays secret. It's risky enough as it is. Understand?"
She swallowed hard. "I understand."
"Besides," he added, voice harder, "it's not like we're suddenly lovers. This isn't about cuddling."
Something flashed in her eyes—hurt, maybe, or understanding—but she nodded.
"If anyone asks questions about me tomorrow—today—you cover for me. But only if they push. Don't suddenly defend me out of nowhere. That'll raise eyebrows--don't suddenly play devoted aunt. That'll look worse."
"You're skipping school?"
"I'm 'sick.' You'll back me up if needed."
Melissa nodded again, then lingered, looking like she wanted to say something more.
"Go," Phei said.
She slipped out into the dark hallway, robe barely tied, and disappeared.
Phei stood alone, staring at his reflection.
The same face that had just spent five hours dominating his aunt.
"Am I becoming just like them?" he asked quietly.
His reflection had no answer.
He turned back to the library—and froze.
Because something was wrong.
Not wrong. Missing.
He hadn't tamed her. Not officially.
The sex had been incredible. Brutal. Dominant. But Dragon's Rod—the actual taming—that required something specific, didn't it?
Phei looked down at his cock, still heavy and half-hard even after everything.
[DING!]
Blue text exploded across his vision.
[CONGRATULATIONS, HOST!]
[HIDDEN MISSIONS COMPLETED!]
Wait, what?