Chapter 20

Xavier

The Sanguine Solstice is not just a celebration.

It’s a gathering filled with the undercurrents of power plays and hidden threats.

It’s a night when the eyes watching in plain sight are more dangerous than those watching from the shadows.

I’ve taken every precaution to ensure Delilah stays away from this, to keep her shielded from the parts of my world that could harm her. And fuck with my sanity.

Declan crosses his arms, his gaze dull with boredom. “Where’s your bride?”

I grit my teeth, fighting the urge to tell him to fuck off. “Where’s yours?”

“She’ll be here soon.”

“Why’d you invite her?” I lower my voice, my gaze darting back and forth, searching for anyone listening in on our conversation. “You’ve heard the rumors about these events.”

He shrugs, but the flash of emotion in his eyes belies the action. “It could be just rumors. Listen, I don’t trust the Order any more than you do, but my father will know something’s up if my bride isn’t here.”

“Yeah. That could end up becoming a problem for me.” Declan coughs, the noise sounding forced. Suspicion has me narrowing my gaze. “What is it?”

“I think your problem has arrived.” He jerks his head to the right. “Try not to stab her.”

“Motherfucker.”

I turn, following his gaze to find Delilah at the top of the stairs. It’s her. I’d know my girl anywhere.

Her beauty arrests the attention of everyone present, including me. She’s a vision in red with a glow to her skin, her ruby-red lips tantalizing me where I stand, making my cock stiffen. For a moment, I’m utterly captivated by her, enthralled with how stunning and exquisite she is.

As quickly as my desire for her surges, it’s replaced by a rush of other emotions. The violent ones. Anger. Frustration, fueled by my fear for her safety. They envelop me like a straitjacket, leaving me unable to escape.

I don’t bother excusing myself from Declan, barely registering his smirk as I start walking toward the staircase. My fury builds with every step, my skin growing hot under my tux, my blood boiling. My girl has put herself in the midst of a situation where I can’t control the outcome.

The crowd parts for me, a sea of black and red, their whispered speculations trailing in my wake. As if I give a fuck. My mind is too busy racing with possibilities, with plans and contingencies. Most importantly, how to keep her safe while battling the urge to choke the shit out of her.

To force her into submission.

Delilah’s eyes widen the moment I place my foot on the first step. The prey in her recognizes the predator in me, the one who wants to consume and devour her. The one who can’t bear to lose her.

My strides are long and purposeful, erasing the distance between us. By the time I reach the top, her gaze is void of fear and full of defiance. She straightens her spine and lifts her chin, the gesture reminiscent of the first day I saw her.

The day I fell for her.

“Xavier.” Her voice is calm, laced with threads of rebellion, the melodic sound going straight to my dick and making it harder than before.

I tilt my head, and her lips part on a silent gasp. Good. She should be afraid.

“Bride.”

Before I’ve articulated the final consonant, I reach out and snatch her by the throat.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Showing them who you belong to.” The scent of her perfume invades my senses, and the softness of her skin under my palm only heightens my desire for her. I lean down while using my grip on her throat to pull her close and whisper in her ear.

“On. Your. Knees.”

I tighten my hold, applying enough pressure to make my command clear. The warning has her eyes blazing with anger behind her masquerade mask. My little raptor has unsheathed her claws, but it doesn’t matter. She started this game, and I’m going to fucking finish it.

After a brief hesitation, she lowers herself onto the carpet, her eyes locked on mine.

I hold her in this position for a moment, the act of her kneeling before me a message to everyone present.

The Order only understands power in the form of brutality and force, and I’ve made it clear that I own her.

Even surrounded by people I consider my enemies, I can’t stop myself from wanting her. From worshiping her. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this.”

When I follow Delilah onto the floor, getting on my knees as well, her brows snap together in confusion.

Before she can utter a word, I slam her down, the back of her head hitting the plush carpet with a small thud.

The air in her lungs leaves her mouth in a whoosh and her body stills as shock paralyzes her.

I keep my hand on Delilah’s throat and use the other to grip the hem of her dress, dragging it to her waist. The material bunches around her hips, leaving her legs exposed, as well as her pussy.

But this high up, at the top of the stairs, that’s only visible to me.

I’d rather fucking die than share that part of her with another man.

From our position, everyone can see her body’s profile, her knees bent and legs spread, the way she struggles under my hold when I pluck the material of her thong. I lean down and rip it with my teeth. She shivers at the violence in my actions, at the feral glint sure to be in my eyes.

I drag my fingers over her mound and through her slit. My fingertips come away wet, and I groan.

“Look at what you’ve done to yourself,” I say, rubbing her slickness over her clit. I click my tongue in admonishment. “You’re soaked.”

Delilah whimpers, her body tensing under my touch.

I rip my mask off so she can read my face, my determination. “I’m going to make you come right here, where everyone can see how needy you are for me.”

She shakes her head. “No. Please, not here.”

I lean close and growl in her ear. “Yes, here. Now.”

A shudder rolls through her. Her throat works beneath my palm, swallowing. I circle her clit, and the softest of whimpers slips past her lips. I’m aware of the many gazes trained on us. My eyes flicker back and forth, ensuring no one dares gets close.

“Don’t let them hear you come,” I say. “Like your cunt, that’s only meant for me.”

Using my free hand, I grip the back of her thigh and bury my face in her pussy. The sweet scent of her arousal surrounds me, and the taste of her floods my mouth.

She bucks under my hold, her hips lifting, seeking my touch. “Oh God.”

“Don’t pray to him,” I say, my lips skimming her flesh. “Pray to me, so I’ll let you come.”

“Xavier, please.”

Her voice is full of desperation, the tone music to my ears.

She’s already on the verge, her need for me evident.

I circle her clit with my tongue, teasing her, giving her a taste of the pleasure she craves.

When her thighs begin to tremble and her breathing grows erratic, I pull her flesh into my mouth and suck hard.

At the same time, I tighten my grip on her neck, cutting off all sound.

She comes on a silent gasp, her back bowing off the ground. The movement strains her neck, but I refuse to release my grip on her throat. My lips curl into a victorious smile as her hips jerk and she comes again, harder, the orgasm wracking her body. Only then do I let her go.

Her cum hits my chin, the wetness sliding down my face. I wipe my mouth against her inner thigh and then follow the trail with my tongue, lapping up the taste of her. That causes Delilah to suck in a much-needed breath. Her body sags, her limbs shaking and chest heaving.

I sit up, feeling the weight of everyone’s gazes, their expressions ranging from shock to lust.

“Now everyone knows,” I say.

Delilah gazes up at me, her lips pursed and her eyes glazed with passion. Even then, I can read the question on her face.

“Now they know you’re mine.”

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