Chapter 44
44
Layne
V alentine stops at the door to his bedroom without any warning whatsoever, and I sail past him. He tugs on my hand, and the push-and-pull motion has me falling back against him with a giggle. He steadies me with a hand cupping my bottom, holding me close enough I can feel his hardness pressing against me.
“Once again, I find myself half feral with rage because of you.” He snaps his teeth as his hand comes up to cradle my face tenderly.
The opposing sides of Valentine’s attention are as obvious as hot and cold running water. But I’m not intimidated by his swinging emotions or his conflict. I want them. Plus, in truth, if he wasn’t sharing or wasn’t being so authentic, I’d be scared.
“I know.” I groan as he leans down to lick and suck his way up my throat, his breathing heavy against my ear.
He bites my earlobe hard enough for me to yip before he kisses the sting away. “You don’t have to walk in here,” he says, stepping back, so I can see him better. His eyes are blinding blue with sincerity, but deep inside them, in that space only for me, I see him asking for my trust.
The message in his eyes is as clear as the river of scent he’s trying to drown me in—he needs to care and use. But he needs my trust for him to do it his way.
Even without exchanging bites and properly binding each other, much like with his brother and with Matteo, our connection is naturally growing stronger with each passing hour. His unspoken question has me answering with a hint of hesitation, and I choose my words carefully.
“I know you won’t hurt me, Alpha.”
He closes his eyes, a serene smile on his lips. There’s no denying how much he loves me referring to him as my Alpha .
Valentine uses all the tools in his designation arsenal to express his relief at my words. The press of his presence is weighted, and he melds it in such a way that I feel like I’m being cradled all over. His espresso-laden scent sits heavy in the air, leaving a mark on my skin too. There is no doubt he owns me as much as I own him.
My craving for him skyrockets. I purposely shuffle on my feet, letting him scent my willingness arousal before I reach for the door handle, dragging him inside his bedroom and kicking the door shut behind us.
He cracks his neck, undressing with each prowling step he takes. “I’m tying you to my bed and owning your cunt until I’m ready to forgive you.”
His fingers have already pulled his tie open and are working through the row of buttons on his shirt while he stares at me as if I am his prey. And I am, in a sense. But, by god, I’m here with him willingly, so I’m not sure prey is relevant.
“Jesus, Val, you know I’m never going to stop getting into trouble if you make promises like that.” I laugh as I pull the top of my pajamas over my head. My voice is husky, and he groans at the sound of it.
My laughter gets cut off when he catches me by the wrist and uses his tie as a restraint. The moment he’s tied the silky cuff around my wrist, he snatches me off my feet. I go sailing through the air, screaming like a banshee the whole time.
I hit his mattress and bounce once before he’s straddling over my upper body. His eyes are like the midnight sky on a clear winter night, full of endless promises. He gives me one more dangerous smirk before getting back to the task, quite literally at hand. After threading the end of his tie to a post on his bed, he reaches over into his bedside table and comes back with more binds, laying them over my chest. The added weight of them has the tempo of my heart dancing erratically, but it’s anticipation and want causing the heavy thuds.
Valentine reaches for my free hand, his gaze back on mine as he sucks on two of my fingers, tonguing between them until I’m squeezing my legs shut to ease the buildup of pressure. He flicks his eyebrows up suggestively as he starts trailing his tongue down my arm. But it’s a distraction, a really fucking hot one, as he moves my arm up and over my head to tie against his bed, like he did with the other arm.
For some reason, I expected him to dip down and kiss me until I can’t breathe, but he shuffles downward, dragging his body over mine before he climbs off the bed and wraps one of his hands around my ankle, yanking my legs open.
My excitement shudders as I succumb to the small waves of heat crashing over me, my mind jumping to his mouth on me. I need relief and go to rub my thighs together, but he barks. “Leave them open.”
His command has my body freezing, my legs unable to move. My core, the anxious bitch, throbs, unable to wait. And then he ramps up all the sensations he’s pulling from me by the way his gaze inches over me from top to bottom. But this moment is most definitely a shared one, and as much as his lust ignites, mine flames his.
I want every goddamn thing I see in his eyes. I want every part of Valentine De Luca.
He doesn’t deny me, but he definitely refuses to be rushed. He teases without touching, undoing his suit pants and burying his hands in his boxers to stroke himself as his eyes glide over every inch of my body.
Valentine closes his eyes once he’s satisfied with what he sees. He groans under his breath, his hand speeds up, and he rocks into it until his lips twist into a dangerous smile.
“You should feel how hard I am.”
“Show me,” I beg.
He laughs, opening his eyes. Instead of touching me, though, he leans over and ties the ropes around my legs before securing them to the bottom of his bed. When he’s happy with how secure the binds are, he walks away from me.
“Valentine!”
He keeps ignoring me, switching the overhead lights off and dipping us into darkness. I nearly start to freak out as my scars from years ago threaten to tear open.
The dark engulfs and taunts me that this is fake, but Valentine is already there, facing my fears, whispering from over near the door. “Trust me.”
Letting go of the notion of being let down and betrayed will take time, but I know that, and so does he.
“Trust me. Open your eyes.”
I do. And my fears are bested by the wonders of Valentine. The ceiling of his bedroom is twinkling with tiny pinpricks of light.
I start to say how pretty they are, but he’s disappeared. I know he’ll be back. I have fewer doubts in my mind, along with a crap ton of impatience and anticipation. I get distracted staring at Valentine’s private night sky on his ceiling.
A vise-like grip wraps around my ankle, and I pull away, yapping in surprise, but I stop struggling when I find him in the shadows. He looks like one of the gods from ancient times, blessed with ethereal features and blinding power.
He undresses for me. And it’s a show I’d pay money to see. Valentine’s body is smooth planes and defined curves. His cock is thick and hard, the four silver balls adorning the head sitting like a crown.
He is eerily still as I look over every inch of him until I see why he’s locked up like a statue—my suppressors and blockers are in his hand. Every one of them, by the looks.
“These are done. You only took them to give us an advantage, but it was wrong of me to insist…”
I interrupt. “I insisted first, Valentine.” Forgetting about the restraints, I try to get up off the bed. Though I can’t move an inch, I try a few times, only stopping when he steps closer, pumping his hard cock in response to my struggle. My eyes won’t look away, but I’m still trying to comfort him about taking the drugs we all decided on.
“Val, it was my decision…”
“Enough. Don’t argue with me.” His bark has an edge to it that has me closing my eyes, dealing with another onslaught of want.
As if I would argue, with him as my prize.
The mattress dips, and I sink further into the subspace Valentine provides. I no longer think, happy to hand him complete power, so all I can do is feel. Which is what Valentine is all about—giving me the confidence and space to hope and live again.
“I don’t even have to blindfold you, do I?” He chuckles as he gently bites the flesh on the inside of my thigh before trailing his nose up. “No coming until I say.”
His mouth covers my pussy, and he sucks me through the silk of my pajama shorts, cursing the sweetest praises and groaning. Valentine is near primal in the way he eats me out; there’s no lead up, his whole intention is to ruin me completely. And I am so fucking into it, I bite my lip until I taste blood in a bid to not come.
Without taking my shorts off, he spears my pussy with his fingers, and my hips move as I ride his hand. Valentine has let go of his control on his Alpha, so everything is one hundred times more intense than Val’s usual intensity.
Each touch reverberates, and every whisper he breathes over my skin has me seeing stars, but he drives my pleasure to a place where I am nothing but a vessel for him to fill.
I suck in lungfuls of espresso air, whining under the influence of his scent, desperate for more. So close to coming apart already.
“Don’t you dare.” His voice rumbles in my ear, then his mouth is on mine. I nearly sob with relief as he takes his fingers out of my pussy, but my reprieve is short-lived when he uses his mouth and fingers on my breasts.
Valentine suckles on my nipple, his tongue curling around my aching peak, his hands massaging the flesh, leaving me writhing under him.
“Val,” I whimper, trying desperately not to come, but my pussy floods with slick with each twisting pinch.
His attention diverts, his mouth hovering over my breast and his breath blowing over the areas on my nipple he’s been sucking on while his hand dips down so he can see how wet I am.
“Give it to me, Layne. No more holding back,” he says as his fingers glide through my arousal.
He bites my nipple hard, giving me another focus, before licking his way down my stomach and past my aching pussy to kneel between my legs. The mattress shifts again, then I feel a cold press of something foreign between my legs, and my eyes fly open to see what he’s doing.
At first, I’m struck by the beauty of him, unable to protest or groan in pleasure. He is in his element, basking in my trust as he uses a blade to slice through the seam of my saturated silk shorts. As he looks at me, his eyes are full of heat as his desire drives him hard. Shuffling forward, he pulls my legs up, so he can lay them over his thighs, and I sigh in relief, my body burning and ready for him to drive inside me.
Except, he doesn’t press his body to mine; he flips the knife, holding the blunt side of his blade in his hand before he rubs the handle over my pussy. The cold handle is as shocking as the pleasure that courses through my system as he slowly fucks me with the knife handle.
My ass pitches up when he shoves the hilt in farther, and the thrill of it has me begging. The relief at being filled has me teetering on the edge of an orgasm. “Valentine.”
He bends down and flicks his tongue, lapping around the back of the blade to the slick that pools over my entrance.
“I can’t,” I cry out. The insanity of the rush of dangerous pleasure has my vision wavering as I try not to come.
He doesn’t relent, driving me to near insanity with the steady thrust of the knife and his hunger as he eats me out.
One moment, I’m questioning my sanity, wondering if I’ve ever been this close to coming, and the next, my pussy is empty, and a sudden bang of noise echoes from above my head.
I twist to look backward, and Valentine grabs my hips and drives himself inside me in one brutally perfect thrust.
My mouth opens on a silent scream as he holds me still, not even letting me wiggle around the stretch or fill of his cock, his knot pulsing against my cunt. But Valentine’s not finished playing.
Leaning forward, he settles one of his hands under my chin, infusing enough pressure that I can’t move my head back to a normal angle. He leaves me staring at the slicked-up knife embedded in the wall above his bed. A gentle squeeze of my throat is accompanied by a deep chuckle. His enjoyment and pleasure match mine as he rocks his hips faster, stretching me past any resistance around his thickness.
He rubs his face over me wherever he can reach, scent marking. My submission oozes out of me, matching the slick of my arousal. I can’t breathe in without him letting me. I can’t move an inch, either, but I’ve never felt as free and as safe as I do.
“Knot,” I manage to wheeze as soon as his hand loosens.
He’s wickedly fast when he slaps my breast to quieten my demands. He teases me slower, circling his hips, pulling out a few inches before slamming back in.
I start to cry, the tears tracking over my face. He blows, making them impossible to ignore, and then he leans over and swipes his tongue up my cheek, moaning the whole time.
His love is fierce and wild; it eradicates the darkness and doubts as it consumes.
I hear him cooing the sweetest encouragements against my ear as he squeezes my throat a little tighter, driving his hips faster.
“Not yet, my beautiful wife. Squeeze me harder with my cunt and take my knot.”
Valentine slams his knot inside, obliterating my mind and dominating my senses. He falls forward, covering me completely. His mouth is on mine, and he only stops squeezing his hand around my throat to blow espresso-tainted air into my lungs. I can’t hold on as he rails into me, but even if my arms were free, I don’t think I’d be able to do a thing, except be completely, and utterly, owned by him.
Time fades as we become a blur of sensation and raw power. He drives our pleasure until we’re at the highest point before he somehow stops everything.
There is no noise in my ears.
There are no thoughts in my head.
There is no hesitation in my heart.
So, when he lets his hand go from around my throat and whispers quietly for me to let go, I plunge.
With him.
I scream my release into his open and waiting mouth. He swallows with a kiss. His tongue fills my mouth as he shares his air with me while satisfying my aural kink with a sensual song of his heavy melodic grunts and deep strangled groans.
I feel him explode inside my pussy. My muscles spasm around his twitching cock as he empties time and time again, pushing me straight on to another, softer orgasm that has me biting down on his shoulder.