"Sierra leaked it herself. Did you know that? Dropped it in the group chat like it was a limited-edition Birkin. 'Feast your eyes, sluts. Look what I bagged. Look what's mine now.'"

Maddie's fists balled so tight her knuckles went white, nails carving crescents into her palms.

"Three minutes. Three goddamn minutes. And in those three minutes you made her come twice. Sierra Montgomery—ice-queen, control-freak, girl who's never let a single hair out of place in eleven years—screaming like a cheap porn star while you devoured her cunt like it owed you money."

Her chest heaved faster, tits straining against her blouse, nipples hard enough to cut glass. Cheeks flushed scarlet.

"And your cock, Phei. Jesus fucking Christ. Nine thick inches swinging half-hard like a weapon. The girls all played it cool in the chat—'omg so gross,' 'delete this'—but we know lies when we type them. Every single one of us went to bed that night with our fingers buried knuckle-deep, imagining that monster splitting us open. How it would feel slamming home. How it would wreck us for anyone else. How we'd never walk straight again."

She'd closed the distance without him noticing—predator sneaking up on predator. Heat rolled off her in waves.

"I watched it 31 times." Whispered now, husky and shameless. "More than anyone except the liars swearing they only watched once. Every loop I got wetter. Soaked through my sheets. Fingering myself raw wishing it was me spread out on that piano, your tongue fucking me brainless."

Her hand landed on his chest—bold, possessive. He let it stay.

"Then you kept evolving. Day by day—sharper jaw, broader shoulders, that dangerous gleam in your eyes. Like watching a dragon claw out of some pathetic eggshell. The other boys here? Garden-variety geckos. Forgettable. Fuckable only when the lights are off and the standards are lower."

Her fingers twisted in his shirt, yanking him closer.

"But you... you're apocalypse-big. And I need to ride you before Sierra chains you to her perfect little pedestal forever."

"You sure she hasn't already?" Phei's voice was low, amused, dangerous.

"Not yet." Maddie's stare burned, she chuckled. She knew Sierra! "She's still playing her games—ice queen on the outside, dripping addict on the inside. Pretending she's not fiending for whatever black magic you do to her. But I know Sierra better than her own reflection. She's days away from cracking. From spreading wide and begging you to raw her properly, then slapping a boyfriend label on you like a brand. And you'll say yes—because why the hell not? She's Sierra fucking Montgomery. Untouchable goddess."

Her grip turned vicious.

"But I want you first. I want to be the one who breaks you in—or gets broken trying. I want to drop my video in that chat and watch Sierra's perfect world shatter when she realizes she finally lost the one prize that mattered."

"So this is just competition." Flat. Testing.

"Yes." Zero remorse. Zero hesitation. "It's always competition. That's the air we breathe."

He could smell the layers of bullshit—she wanted him like oxygen, not just victory—but he let it slide.

"And Renard?"

"Renard can choke on his own mediocre dick." Cold. Cruel. Delicious. "It's literally the only thing that useless appendage is good for."

Phei studied her up close. Freckles dusted across her nose like sinful constellations. Pulse rabbiting in her throat, begging to be bitten.

She was dead serious. Ready to torch a friendship, nuke a relationship, gamble everything—because losing to Sierra wasn't an option.

Not when the prize was him.

It should've been pathetic.

Instead it was intoxicating.

"So that's the pitch?" he murmured. "Fuck you to spite your best friend?"

"I want to fuck you because watching that video rewired my brain and now I ache for you constantly." Defiant chin lift. "The Sierra thing? Gravy. I want to win, yes—but mostly I want you balls-deep until I forget how to spell my own name."

"Terrible liar, Maddie."

"I'm not—"

"You want me. You want to belong to me. I'm not just a notch."

Her mouth opened. Snapped shut. For the first time since she'd ambushed him, uncertainty flickered.

"That's... not..."

"It's okay." His smile unfurled slow and predatory, all teeth. "I don't mind being the prize."

Her breath stuttered. "What do you want?"

"What are you offering?"

"Anything." Desperate. Instant. "Money. Influence. My family's private jets, vacation islands, blackmail files on half the faculty—whatever buys me a night."

"Don't need money."

"Then what?"

Phei's hand slid to the back of her neck—firm, owning. Thumb pressing the frantic beat of her pulse.

She full-body shivered, a whimper escaping before she could trap it.

"I want you to submit," he said, voice velvet over steel. "Not this bratty 'fight me for it' foreplay. Not you topping from the bottom and calling it victory. I want you on your knees, Maddie. Mouth open. Eyes up. Begging like a good girl."

Her pupils blew wide, black swallowing blue.

"Can you do that? Can Maddie Whitmore—oil princess, queen of the court, girl who's never heard the word no without ruining someone's life—can she drop to her pretty knees and surrender?"

She swallowed hard. Pulse hammering against his grip like a trapped bird.

"I..."

"Think about it."

He released her. Stepped back.

And Maddie—cornered, speechless, pride and pussy at war—did the only thing left in her arsenal.

She lunged.

Kissed him like invasion. Mouth crashing, tongue forcing entry, teeth sinking into his lower lip until copper bloomed. One hand fisted his hair, yanking his head down—she hated the height difference, hated looking up at anyone—and the other seized his wrist, slamming his hand onto her ass. Grinding his palm into the firm curve like she could brand ownership through fabric.

She moaned into him—loud, obscene, advertising her desperation. Hips rolling, thighs clenching, already chasing friction.

"Come on," she panted between bites, teeth scraping his jaw, mouth sucking bruises into his throat hard enough to bloom purple by morning. "Quit blue-balling us both and take it. Bend me over this desk. Rip these useless panties off. Fuck me until I forget Sierra even exists. I can handle you—rougher than she ever could. I want the bruises. I want to feel you for days."

Her tongue traced the shell of his ear, hot breath sending sparks down his spine.

"I want to be ruined, Phei. Stop teasing and fucking ruin me."

"Or are you scared?" Maddie taunted, voice dripping venom and honey. "Scared the little charity boy can dish out filthy tongue-fucking to Sierra but can't handle a real woman who bites back?"

Phei's brain flat-lined for three full, throbbing seconds—blood roaring south, cock jerking like it had its own opinion on the matter.

Then he snapped.

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