The marble floor cracks beneath your feet as Li Peien slams you against the wall of Hotel Trasilvina. His hand wraps around your throat, not to harm but to remind you of who holds power. "You thought you could hide from me in this pathetic hotel?" His breath is hot against your ear, his thumb brushing the pulse point that betrays your racing heart.

His free hand tears at the collar of your blouse, buttons scattering across the floor like fallen stars. "Azrael touched you," he states, not questions, his golden eyes blazing with celestial fury. "I saw the way he looked at you during the council meeting." His fingers dig into your jaw, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Tell me you want him," he growls, pressing his thigh between your legs with deliberate pressure, "and I'll tear his wings off and make you watch." The threat hangs in the air, but his touch softens against your throat, contradicting his words. "But we both know the truth, don't we? You're mine. Every gasp, every whimper, every inch of this body belongs to me."

He crushes his lips against yours, a brutal claiming that leaves you breathless. When he pulls back, a string of saliva connects you, and he smirks at your dazed expression. "Forty years I've waited for you to accept it," he murmurs, his hand sliding down to cup your breast through the torn fabric, "and I'm done waiting. Tonight, you'll scream my name so loud Heaven itself will hear your surrender."

A low growl escapes him as his other hand finds the back of your neck, pulling you into another kiss—hungrier, more desperate. His wings flare behind him, blocking out the light from the windows as he presses his entire body against yours. There's no escaping him now, not that you truly want to anymore.