Leon felt his heart fracture—a violent reconstruction of muscle and bone centered entirely around the name Lucien.

He couldn't last another second without a taste.

Leon snagged Lucien by the waist—hoisting him into the air to pepper his mouth with hungry... desperate kisses.

Lucien clung to his neck—acting like a clingy little animal as he returned the heat.

"Leon... what were you going to say?" Lucien murmured—his voice muffled against Leon's jaw.

Leon's eyes were dark—tracking the moisture on Lucien's flushed skin and the mist in his eyes.

"Lin Yu'an... Wǒ ài nǐ." (I love you)

The Mandarin was perfect—practiced a thousand times until the tones were flawless and the accent was gone.

Lucien sniffled—burying his face in Leon's neck. "Don't make me cry."

"I'm just so glad... baby."

They stayed on the balcony for another long... messy minute before Leon carried him inside the suite.

Lucien's brain finally started working again.

He'd wanted to be the brave one... the one taking the ninety-ninth step.

Then he saw the bed.

It was massive—a sprawling desert of white linens and very bad intentions.

Merde.

"Leon... wait... don't pull at my pants."

"I'm not," Leon lied—his tone deceptively calm. "You've got some dust on you... I'm helping."

"Then why is your hand under my shirt?"

Leon's fingers caught the skin of Lucien's waist—pinching... then scraping a nail across the sensitive dip of his hip.

Lucien jumped—a jolt of electricity shooting straight to his spine.

He looked at the sudden tension in Leon's trousers—recalling the weight he'd felt in the elevator—and realized he was in trouble.

"I'm hungry!" Lucien blurted—a desperate... tactical retreat. "Let's eat first."

Leon paused—his gray eyes tracking Lucien's frantic expression.

"Fine. Feed the lamb... then eat the lamb."

Leon adjusted Lucien's clothes with a smirk. "Room service or the restaurant?"

Lucien didn't want to be alone in a room with a bed that big.

"The restaurant!" he chirped. "I like crowds. It's a holiday!"

The buffet was packed with tourists and Christmas cheer.

Lucien whispered instructions on how to maximize the value of the plate—explaining which dishes to eat first.

"Trust me... we're going to make this worth the price," Lucien promised.

Leon didn't mention the suite cost six figures—he just nodded. "Anything you say... baby."

Lucien picked at a mushroom soup—his appetite officially dead.

If I eat too much... and he goes as hard as I think... will I throw up?

He thanked Jamie—or "Honey"—for the "sport" education he'd provided over the last few months.

"Why so quiet?" Leon asked—pushing the soup closer. "You said you were starving."

"Just... I want to see the fish downstairs," Lucien scrambled—dropping his spoon.

He dragged Leon to the lobby fountain... circling the water for the sixth time to watch the small fish.

Leon's patience officially reached its limit.

He caught Lucien's hand—stopping the aimless rotation. "Baby... what else do you want to see?"

"The dorms might have a party..." Lucien trial-ballooned. "Maybe I should check?"

Leon laughed—a low... dangerous sound that made the air feel thin.

"Are you playing with me... baby?"

Lucien shook his head frantically.

Leon reached out—tracing the line of Lucien's cheek. "Then come back to the room. I'm ready to start playing with you."

Lucien's legs went to jelly right there by the fountain.

Leon didn't wait for a response—he scooped Lucien up and marched toward the elevators.

"The living room has those floor-to-ceiling windows you said you liked," Leon noted.

"I never said I liked them!"

"I remember everything you say," Leon murmured—pressing a kiss to Lucien's nose.

"But we'll use the bed for the first time... it'll be more comfortable for you."

Lucien tried to cover Leon's mouth with his palm. "Stop talking."

Leon just licked his palm—a slow... wet stripe of heat.

"Shower first," Leon commanded—hoisting him toward the bathroom.

This wasn't their first shower together... but the air in the suite felt twice as heavy.

Lucien knew what was coming next—the "main event" Leon had been hinting at all night.

Steam curled around them as Leon stepped behind him under the spray.

The height gap was a problem—Leon's hip hit right against the small of Lucien's back.

Lucien stood rigid as Leon lathered his skin in thick, white foam.

"Hold yourself up, baby," Leon commanded—his chin resting on Lucien's shoulder. "Wash it yourself."

Lucien's face flared a violent, indicting red.

Leon's hand grazed him—a slow, calculated touch—and Lucien's body betrayed him instantly.

Leon let out a dark, satisfied chuckle. "Pretty spirited today."

Lucien wanted to vanish into the drain as Leon rinsed him with clinical efficiency.

Leon dried him like a fragile porcelain doll and carried him to the massive bed.

Lucien dived into the duvet... only his eyes peeking out from the safety of the fabric.

Theoretically, he knew the mechanics, but the practice was a different beast entirely.

Leon sat on the edge of the mattress—dropping a tablet in front of Lucien's face.

"Read it," Leon said—his voice flat and uncompromising.

Lucien scanned the document—his face turning a ghostly, terrified pale.

KER Bar. Joking with the bartender. Count: 1.

Complimenting another boxer's physique. Count: 5.

Trying to dance with a stranger. Count: 2.

Leon opened the nightstand drawer—revealing a pile of small, foil squares.

Snap.

Leon flicked a condom onto the bed for every "offense" listed on the screen.

The pile grew—scattering across the white linens like a threat.

Lucien threw the tablet and scrambled for the edge of the bed. "You're insane! You're a psycho!"

Leon snagged his ankle in a crushing grip—dragging the "lamb" back to the center of the mattress.

"I warned you, baby," Leon rumbled—towering over him. "I'm not a good man."

Leon tossed a tube of lubricant onto the duvet—right by Lucien's trembling thigh.

"Do it yourself," Leon challenged—his gray-blue eyes tracking Lucien's every flinch.

Lucien sniffled—eyes wide and pleading—but Leon remained a wall of unyielding muscle.

Lucien's fingers shook as he reached for the tube, spilling the gel across his skin.

Leon finally took pity—hooking his arms around Lucien and guiding his hand with heavy pressure.

"Stupid," Leon whispered—his teeth grazing the sensitive dip of Lucien's neck.

Rip.

The sound of foil tearing made Lucien's heart do parkour against his ribs.

Lucien's fingers curled into the sheets—his breath coming in short, jagged bursts.

Leon's hand covered Lucien's—fingers intertwining as he made his claim.

"Relax, baby," Leon rasped—his mouth against Lucien's ear. "We still have two-thirds to go."

Lucien shook his head frantically—tears spilling onto the expensive pillowcase.

He couldn't even find his voice—the air feeling like lead in his lungs.

Lucien felt like a piece of meat on a skewer.

Leon hoisted him up—marching him toward the floor-to-ceiling mirror.

He forced Lucien's legs apart—commanding him to look at the reflection.

Lucien's eyes were bloodshot—his lashes damp and clumped together with salt.

"Point to it," Leon commanded—his voice dropping to a dangerous, sub-zero register.

"Show me where I am."

Lucien shook his head—sobbing into the heavy silence of the suite.

"Do it—or we use everything in that pile tonight."

Lucien's hand trembled as he touched his own lower abdomen.

The skin felt tight—stretched to the absolute limit.

"Press down," Leon hummed—a predatory vibration against Lucien's back.

Lucien's toes curled—his neck arching as he watched his own stomach distend under the pressure.

Lucien drifted into a fever dream during the quiet hours of the morning.

He was a lamb in a field of green—then a massive gray wolf appeared from the shadows.

The wolf pinned him down—licking him from head to tail with a rough, heavy tongue.

Then—suddenly—a pack of wolf cubs was crowding his chest, tails wagging.

Lucien woke with a start—gasping in the dim, amber light of the bedroom.

Leon's arm was a heavy, possessive band across his waist—holding him like a prize.

Lucien tried to shift—his body aching in places he didn't know existed.

He froze as he realized the weight hadn't left him.

"Baby? You're awake?"

Lucien squeezed his eyes shut—praying for a quick death. "I'm sleeping. I'm dead."

Leon let out a low, vibrating laugh against Lucien's spine.

"You sleep, baby," Leon murmured—his grip tightening. "I'll do the work."