42. Violette
VIOLETTE
Iam... speechless. As a brothel mistress, I’ve had countless males between my legs, but never has one consumed me so completely and irreversibly. Even now, as he coaxes my body towards yet another climax while my mind is still reeling from the first.
And the way he does it?
The first time had been a swift and brutal demand for me to achieve orgasm. Done with so much passion and fervor, it left me breathless and managed to chisel away at some of the stone encasing my heart.
But now? The male is worshipping me with every gentle stroke of his strong, sure fingers; dancing slow, teasing circles around my clit with his tongue in between suckling as he groans in pleasure.
All while taking his precious time, savoring each and every moment of it.
Levi’s making love to me with his mouth.
And if it didn’t feel so fucking good, I’d make him stop because it’s making too much of that stony barricade protecting my heart crumble.
Who knew such a thing was possible—to be pleasured so thoroughly, and on such a soul-deep level, that it tears down your defences.
Sacred fuck...
Tears swell in my eyes as my orgasm surges, sending pinpricks of electrifying bliss to wash over every molecule of my body. From the tip of my tail to my horns. Shaky hands fist the sheets as Levi steals another orgasm from me. I can’t help but feel like he’s stolen a little of my soul with it.
By the time my climax subsides, I swiftly wipe away any evidence of my tears as he administers parting kisses and murmurs praise from between my slackened legs.
“Mmmmm... So fucking delicious. So fucking perfect, mia rovina.”
The meaning of the endearment isn’t lost to me thanks to the elixir I created years ago to imitate the effects of the Well of Tongues.
No, it makes my heart clench, and brings all my buried fears to the surface.
Darkly poetic and a mirror to my own emotion.
My ruin.