Chapter 34
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR
Stephan
M y princess is panicking, bursting at the seams with anxiety.
We’re still in the building, the actual Council building in Sabine. Not the estate where Sophine holds court, but where the workers come and run the world, or so it seems.
I take Violet’s hand and squeeze. “This way.” There’s a supply closet we just passed and right now there’s no one in the corridor.
I drag her in and lock the door.
“Why are we in here, Stephan?”
I back her into a shelving unit, and put a hand on the shelves either side of her head, boxing her in. Her scent weaves enticing paths around me, all of them leading to her throat, her lips, those lovely tits, and lower still. At least, those are the places I want to go .
“To calm you down, Princess. You’re a little high-strung.”
“And locking me in here where we could be caught is a way to calm me?”
I smile and bend my head, running my lips along her sweet throat. “Maybe I’m training you to channel your anxiety into more useful arenas.”
“N-No, I think you’re making it worse.”
“I think you’re not being the good girl you usually are. Not…obeying me. Your mate.”
I can almost feel her turn molten as she stands there. The heat of her radiates, and I stroke my tongue slow over her pulse, its leap like a jolt of need to my cock. I close my mouth around that part of her neck and suck.
She moans and the shelves shake as she grabs for support.
Then I bite. Slowly.
It’s not hard, that bite, but it’s a lesson in deliberation and drawing out a moment. The tension in her heightens and twists into something new as she waits for me to bite harder.
I release her, and the air is so tight around us it holds us still. I look at her, and those hazel eyes with the golds and greens are liquid jewels, and desire beats in the air.
“Turn.”
I step back and she does.
“Hold on to the shelves.” She goes to grab the ones near her breasts, but I have an idea. “No, lower. Lower. Stick out your ass so you’re bent at a right angle. Perfect.”
She’s a morsel, a meal, a breath of fresh air, hot trysts in the dark, long slow sessions. She’s all of that. More .
But I think what I want is fast food done right.
I want to make her learn to turn her anxiety on its ass. “Hold, don’t move.”
Of course she does as ordered. My fucking pristine princess.
She’s tense, the same energy as her anxiety, high but focused, not fractured, not pulling her apart. That’s what I want from her.
I look around. My meal’s cooking, and I’m getting ready to devour when it’s done. There’s a bunch of rulers on the shelf opposite me and I pick one up. Metal and heavy, it would be a tool to inflict pain and punishment. Perfect for my purposes.
I don’t say a word to her, just lift her floral dress, pleased at the yellow lace panties she’s got on. Not the color. I don’t give a shit about that, but the way it cuts up, showing me most of her cheeks.
Fuck yeah.
I slide a finger along the edges over her ass and she sighs out a small moan. I can smell her sweeter than heaven violet scent. It’s almost as good as the sweetness her heat brought on, but her sex scent’s more than sweet enough. Dangerously intoxicating.
But I have plans too for me coming, plans that involve her on her knees, mouth open.
I slip my fingers lower, then down along the seam of her cunt, so hot, so wet, it makes my cock rock-hard and my knees weak.
“Oooh…”
I smile, then lower her panties to just the tops of her thighs, and I trail the ruler over her ass .
“What’s that?”
“A metal ruler.”
Even though all I’m doing is holding it there, she jerks. I want her to imagine what I could do to her with it.
“Don’t hit me,” she whispers, her voice twisted with want, sexual need, and a kind of fear that raises the hairs on the back of my head. Anticipation.
“No? Don’t you want to know?”
Her breath comes fast and a trickle of juices runs down her thigh and soaks into her panties. I want that juice. I want her desire. Her arousal. I want—need—her to pulsate on my dick.
“You won’t hurt me, Stephan.”
I raise the ruler high and bring it down, so it makes a sound in the air, stopping just before touching her with it. Then I put it back on her ass, placing it gently. “No?”
“No.”
“But you’re not obeying me. And usually you do, Princess. You’re usually utterly perfect, so good.”
It’s like I shot a volt of electrical current into her.
“Please don’t.”
“I have to.” I unzip, free myself, pumping for a few seconds, then I let my junk go. “Don’t tense. It’ll hurt more.”
A squeak escapes Violet, and I bring the ruler fast through the air and stop well short of it meeting her flesh, and instead I bring my hand down in a smack that leaves a light little pink patch.
Violet lets out a tiny scream. “Oh, God.”
With that, I drop the ruler and it hits the floor with a clang. I fist my cock, part her folds and plunge in, stretching her and slamming to the hilt.
Oh. Fuck. It’s like coming home. She’s tight and wet and so primed that little spasms milk me. Then I start to move.
One hand on her hip to hold her, the other on the shelf to stop me slamming her into it.
My Violet might have a little praise kink; she hates it and craves it at the same time, and it seems to get her wetter when I make her squirm with praise.
But putting a little twisted fear in her is almost as good as praise.
Her slickness from arousal allows me to slide in and out hard and fast, lets me get so fucking balls to the wall deep in her that slamming her is borderline close to rutting. And I want to.
Fuck, do I want to.
To let go and just own her in all the ways pushes at me, but I’m not going to. I know how this meal ends.
I move my hand from her hip, around to her clit and start to stroke and toy with it, all the while aiming to hit that spot in her that feels good to me and makes her insane.
She’s pushing back, moaning and panting, and the urge to let go gets stronger, my hold on myself thinner. I’m aching and flying high. Aching because I need that knotting, flying because there’s nothing like Violet.
Then she comes, a gasping cry as she shudders on me, her cunt spasming hard.
My knot starts to swell, and I pull out.
“Drop to your knees and open your mouth. ”
She does and swallows me down, bobbing up and down on me, taking me so deep I’m hammering her throat.
And then I’m coming.
Papers and supplies fall and clatter. I almost bring the shelf down on us. The orgasm seems to last forever, with me grunting and jerking as she drains me.
When the tremors finally end, Violet stares at me, her eyes glazed, and I drag her up and crush her to me, kissing her deep and long, the kiss the last bite of my fast meal.
She tastes so sweet as always, that Violet taste, and she tastes like me.
I break the kiss because I know we need to straighten up and get out of here. I let her go, tuck my dick away, and do up my pants. Then pull up her panties and smooth down her dress.
“I just meant for you to open so I could come in your mouth.”
“I wanted to,” she says, a little laugh escaping. “I thought you were going to hit me with that ruler.”
“And maim that gorgeous ass?” I kiss her hard. “Never. We should get out of here.”
“How do I look?”
“Like you just got fucked by a movie star.”
“Your ego…”
I unlock the door, grab her hand, and pull her into the hall, bumping into someone. “Oops, that’s not the exit,” I say.
I don’t stick around long enough to see who it is. Instead, I make her run with me for the exit. Her head’s back, laughter rolling from her, her cheeks pink.
She’s a different woman when she’s like this .
No, not different.
She’s the woman she’s always been. The one she’s hidden away so long.
One I could fall in love with.
If I were a different man.
There’s a group of people waiting at the unlocked gate to our beach house.
I help Violet out of the car, sliding my phone away. I need to text Clea before she returns to Emporia in a few days. But first, I need to help the princess deal with her family’s visit.
When I spy Pen among them, I adjust that to our families.
When we’re all inside, Rue takes a break from taking selfies in Asher St. James’s home to ask Violet, “Are you pregnant yet?”
The comment gets a side-eye from Pen to me, a growl from Heath who stomps off into the fenced-in yard to make a call, and a sigh from Violet’s mother.
“Rue, that’s not how it works,” Iris mutters.
Rue frowns. “I know.”
“I’m not sure she does,” Mari says then smiles at her mom.
“Do you have a piano?” Dahlia asks.
I shake my head, so she just goes into the sitting room to read the book she pulls from her bag.
Violet throws me a helpless look. I know she’s worried she looks like she just had sex, but she doesn’t now. “I’ll give you all a tour,” she offers.
“And I’ll help Stephan get refreshments,” Penrith says.
When they all leave, we go into the kitchen. As Pen fills a pitcher with juice and makes a pot of tea and coffee, she presses her lips together. She’s clearly got something on her mind, so I sit at the table and wait.
“Stephan, get the cups and saucers, and I’m sure you have cookies. I know I sent over a lot of supplies like that.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I get some from the pantry, and almost jump when I turn and find her just standing there, blocking my path.
“You’ve told her, of course.”
I note it isn’t a question. “Told her what?”
“About Cecilia.”
“Some.”
“Stephan—”
“We’re not having children.”
A sigh comes from her like a balloon deflating. “Oh, Stephan.”
“Not your concern. And not up for debate.”
“As your constant supporter, even when you do truly stupid things, I’d like to think it is my concern. And you told her something. A girl like your Violet is made for babies, for a family.”
“No.”
“And if it happens?”
“It can’t.” I meet her gaze. “I took care of it.”
One thing about Pen is that for all her outward manners and adhering to the ways of society, she doesn’t really give a shit. She doesn’t balk. “She’s okay with all this?”
“I said I’m taking care of it.”
“How?” she asks.
“I don’t want to lose her.”
Pen crosses her arms. “I asked how .”
Now I move closer to her, annoyance sparking. “As I said, not up for debate.”
From upstairs comes laughter and it gets louder as everyone starts to head back down here.
Pen meets my glare head on. “This isn’t over.”
But it is, at least for me.
Because the contraceptives I got from Clea should already be working. But I’ll have to up the dosage soon before I can knot her safely.
While crushing up Omega contraceptives and putting them into my new mate’s drinks might not be exactly ethical, it’s better than the alternative.
I can’t lose her.