Krishna moved away from Michael's lap and seated at the edge of the bed. Followed by him, like it's the most natural thing to do.
Then she heard him again. Saw, how he's still not in control of himself.
Michael groaned, his back hitting the velvet headboard, one hand clenching the sheets. His breath came ragged, his pupils blown wide and unfocused. "Fuck-" he hissed, jaw tight as the heat surged back through his bloodstream.
Krishna didn't move from her place on the edge of the bed. She simply tilted her head, watching him struggle. "Still burning?"
"I thought one release would be enough." His voice cracked, hands fisting uselessly on the sheets. "It's not."
"No," she said, standing. "Not when it's her. You should've known. Her scent was weaponized. She made herself that way."
Michael's head lolled back as a low, guttural moan slipped from his throat. "I can't...Krishna, I can't even think. It's still inside me, like her scent is stitched to my lungs."
Krishna approached slowly, shrugging her robe off her shoulders in one fluid motion. It fell silent to the carpet, her bare form lit only by the golden sun slicing through the curtains. She climbed onto the bed, straddling him with terrifying grace. Her voice was cold, controlled. "Then I'll burn it out of you myself."
His hands shot up on instinct, gripping her hips, but Krishna slapped them down to the mattress.
"No touching," she whispered against his lips. "You don't get to grab. Not when your body still thinks it's hers."
Michael shuddered beneath her. "Krishna…"
She reached between them, guiding him back inside her, inch by inch, slow and agonizing. "You'll take this," she said. "You'll take me. Until your cock forgets her scent. Until your body stops trembling for another omega and remembers who made it kneel first."
A strained, animalistic growl left his chest. "Fuck...you're not even giving me time-"
"I'm not here to be gentle," she said, rolling her hips once, sharp and punishing. "You think one orgasm clears your bloodstream? That's cute."
She moved again. Harder. Angled.
Michael bucked upward, crying out, his body desperate, helpless, needy. And still, she didn't let him touch her. Not her waist. Not her breasts. Nothing. He was nothing more than the tool to overwrite Bella's scent with her own. And Krishna didn't ease up.
Not until his head was thrown back, his voice raw from cursing her name, hips snapping in frantic surrender.
Not until the sound of their bodies slamming together blurred with the ragged growls in his throat.
Not until he screamed her name, like it was the only damn word he could remember.
And even then, Krishna didn't stop.
She leaned down, biting his neck hard, leaving a bruise where her mouth sealed over his gland. Her scent poured into him with devastating dominance.
"I want her scent gone," she whispered into his ear, each word like fire. "I want her name scrubbed off your fucking nerves."
Michael sobbed her name now, no pride, no resistance. Just Krishna. Only Krishna.
And when he came again, broken and begging, she finally let go.
But not before whispering, "There. You're mine again."
And every single cell in his body knew it.
Krishna pulled back, breath still unsteady, skin slick and glowing with the aftermath. She slid off him with a soft hiss, intending to leave the bed in her usual fashion, detached, cold, untouched by intimacy.
But Michael's arm hooked around her waist before she could rise, dragging her down with surprising strength.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" he muttered, voice raw and still hoarse from moaning her name like a prayer, and a curse.
Her brow arched. "I don't do cuddles."
He buried his face into the crook of her neck. "Good. I'll do it for both of us."
Krishna scoffed, rolling her eyes as he locked his arms tighter around her, pressing her bare back flush against his chest. "Fine. You earned it. You let me work my bones out, twice."
She felt the curve of his smile against her shoulder.
"You're welcome," he muttered, drowsy but smug. "Feel free to use me as your cardio anytime."
They lay there in silence, the heat between their bodies slowly cooling but the closeness thickening into something unfamiliar.
Krishna didn't pull away.
Not this time.
~~~~~
By night, the sun was no longer visible and replaced by the moonlit light.
She walked beside Michael down the marble steps of the hotel, both of them sleek, composed, dressed in monochrome elegance like nothing had happened behind those closed doors.
But the bite on his neck still peeked out from beneath his collar.
Her scent clung to his skin like ink in water. Unmistakable.
Michael offered his arm.
Krishna accepted it with a smirk. "Don't make this a habit."
He leaned closer. "Can't promise that."
Together, they stepped into hall, like everything goes according to their movements.
The charity auction was in full bloom.
And so was the unspoken war.
Bella gripped the glass of champagne so hard it nearly shattered.
She watched them enter from the top balcony of the ballroom, Krishna and Michael, side by side, like a perfectly crafted warning.
Krishna in black silk, slit high to her thigh, her expression unreadable. Michael beside her, cool and polished, the same hands that rejected Bella now tucked neatly behind his back like he'd been cleansed.
Bella's lip curled.
She should've left Country M.
She knew the moment she caught Krishna's eyes in that room, this trip had turned into a trap.
But pride...
Pride had her staying. Had her telling herself Krishna wouldn't make it personal.
She was wrong.
Now she stood surrounded by people who didn't know she was being outplayed.
And worse, she was still drenched in the scent of failure.
The same scent Krishna would strip off her, piece by piece, without mercy.
Bella's jaw clenched as her gaze locked on the woman walking through the crowd below.
So this is how you want to play it, Krishna?
She smiled.
Fine. Let's burn.