Frederick’s fury exploded. His hand shot down, grabbing me by the arm and yanking me up so roughly my feet stumbled. “Enough!” he thundered, his composure gone.

Gasps erupted around me.

But I wasn’t finished. I let a playful smile curve across my lips and tilted my head. “What’s wrong, my Lord? You look… uncomfortable.” I shifted again on his lap, slow and deliberate. “Surely you’ve fucked women before. Or is it that you prefer your brides silent and docile?”

Gasps filled the room. One of the men stood, muttering, “This is disgraceful.”

But I only smiled wickedly. “Control? Oh, forgive me, my Lord, I thought control wasn’t something you cared for. Not after yesterday…” My voice carried, dripping with false innocence, as I tilted my head and looked at him sweetly. “When your cock inside me was so painfully disappointing. Honestly, I thought a man of your… age and stature would be better. But maybe it was just too small? Or perhaps you don’t know how to use it.”

The older men looked scandalized, their glares flicking between him and me. My mother pressed a hand over her mouth, torn between fury and shame. The room had turned into a graveyard of shocked faces, but I wasn’t done. I slid off Frederick’s lap in one slow, deliberate motion and dropped gracefully to my knees in front of him.

He said nothing, only kicked open the door to a guest room and slammed it shut behind us. The sound rattled the walls. Before I could turn, his body pressed hard against mine, pinning me to the wall. His eyes blazed with fury, his breath hot against my face.

Olivia’s POV

I stayed silent, my mouth curling at the edges in mock amusement. His breath grew heavier, his voice darker. “If you are so desperate to feel my cock inside you, then I’ll fuck you right here.”

His lips twisted into something between a sneer and a smirk. “Perhaps this is what you want, Olivia. You act out like a spoiled child because you crave my attention. You want me so badly, you’d crawl at my feet to get it.”

“What,” he hissed, his voice low and raging, “was the meaning of that little spectacle?”

The three older men choked in outrage, one of them slamming his palm on the armrest, while the other muttered a curse. My mother froze, horror etched into her face. I giggled and shifted on his lap again, my voice high and mocking. “It hurt so much, Frederick. You should have been gentle. That’s what men do when they care for a woman, isn’t it? Or do you like it better when they cry?” I let out a laugh, sharp and cruel, letting the words stab him in front of everyone. “Tell me, should I scream louder for you next time? Would that make you feel like more of a man?”

One of the older men coughed awkwardly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. My mother’s face flushed crimson, her lips pressed into a furious line. Frederick frowned, his hand tightening on the armrest. “Olivia, behave yourself,” he hissed under his breath, trying to maintain composure.

The room fell into chaos–my mother crying out, the guests barking about disgrace and shame–but Frederick dragged me out of it all, his grip iron, his silence more terrifying than his roar. He shoved me through the hall and up the stairs, my laughter echoing behind us like a mad woman’s song. “What’s the matter, Frederick? Don’t you like an audience?”

Let me see how far he dares to go.

The room fell into silence. I felt his body tense beneath me, his confusion obvious as his eyes darted to my mother, then back to me. I leaned in, close enough that only he could feel my breath against his ear. “Well, my Lord,” I purred, grinding myself ever so slightly against him, “is this not what you wanted?”

“You humiliate me in front of those men, in front of your mother,” he snarled. “And you think you can just laugh it off?”

I tilted my head, smiling up at him with false sweetness. “Why don’t I really give these fine gentlemen a show, my Lord? I’m sure they’d love to hear how you moan. Or would that embarrass you, Frederick?”

The older men jumped to their feet in outrage, their voices a chorus of curses and disgust. My mother half–screamed my name, her hand clutching her chest as though she might faint.

His hand dropped toward his waist, fingers tugging at the buckle of his belt–the metallic click snapping through the air like a threat. I could have vanished in a second.

Teleported away and left him raging alone in this room. But I didn’t. I stayed rooted, staring at him with calm, unblinking eyes.

Frederick’s frown deepened. “Olivia,” he hissed, “control yourself.”

Still, I said nothing. My chest rose and fell in steady defiance, though my wolf clawed inside me, urging me to strike, to run, to teleport away. I didn’t. I wanted to see how far he’d go.

The older men shifted in their seats, their disapproval hanging thick in the air. Frederick’s jaw clenched, fury flashing across his face, but I only giggled softly, pretending innocence.

He gripped my chin, forcing my gaze up to meet his. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

But I only threw my head back and laughed, reckless and wild. “Oh, don’t be so shy now, Frederick. You weren’t shy when you had me last night, were you? Or was that just another fantasy you forced yourself to believe?”

When I entered, all heads turned. Lord Frederick sat with three older men, his guests, no doubt his allies or puppets. Their stiff postures and stern faces reminded me of vultures waiting for scraps. I smiled sweetly–too sweetly–as I walked past my mother’s stiff form and straight to Frederick. His calm eyes followed my every step, probably expecting me to curtsy, to bow, to play the obedient girl my mother wished me to be. Instead, I shocked them all. I moved closer, my fingers brushing along the arm of his chair, and before he could stop me, I lowered myself onto his lap.

“Maybe,” I continued, my tone light and teasing, “if you asked nicely, I might even kiss you in front of your friends. Wouldn’t that make quite the memory?”

I only smiled faintly, refusing to answer. My silence seemed to anger him further, his hand slamming flat against the wall by my head.