Chapter 21 #3
He pinched a nipple hard, the sharp bite of pain cutting through my spiraling thoughts.
“Violet. . .” His voice felt as if it rolled directly over my clit, a physical sensation. His hips pressed into the curve of my ass in delicious torture.
“Yes! Sorry.” I fumbled for the toy with trembling fingers and pressed the button.
It vibrated to life, the sensation intense as I brought it between my legs. A deep moan tore from somewhere inside me, primal and desperate. I should have felt embarrassed by how wanton I sounded, but Rowan’s calm presence was grounding.
I am free.
“Rowan. I don’t think I can stop. I was so close earlier.”
He held me tighter, his embrace turning to steel, hands roaming along my body—playing with my nipples, cupping my breasts, tracing the curve of my waist. I was on fire, every inch of skin soaking in the attention he lavished on me.
“So fucking perfect,” he whispered against me, nipping and biting at the junction where my neck met my shoulder. The slight sting pulled moans from my lips.
Yes, don’t stop. Tell me more. I want to hear you.
The words must have escaped me because Rowan didn’t stop. His voice wrapped around me, filthy and sweet in equal measure.
“You are perfect, soaking my sheets like a good princess.”
“These perfect breasts deserve to be slapped and bitten.”
“I want to eat that pretty pink cunt of yours while you drench my face.”
“Spread those legs wider. Yes, good volchok. Let me see you play with yourself.”
I couldn’t breathe. My body was strung tight as a bow, unable to form coherent thoughts as he whispered sweet filth into my ear. He nipped my earlobe, then murmured, “Relax. We have all night.”
The anxiety that had been building released suddenly, tension dissipating like smoke.
His nose nuzzled behind my ear, inhaling my scent as his hips ground against my ass, following the rhythm I’d set as I rode the toy. I wanted to touch him, mount him, ride him until we were both crying each other’s names.
Every moment he’d stared at me with that particular intensity, every time he’d touched me with reverence, every word he’d just spoken—it was everything I’d needed and wanted, without knowing I needed or wanted it.
The orgasm began to crest, building like a wave. My legs began to shake, my entire body trembling. Rowan was my anchor in this delirium of pain and pleasure, the only solid thing in a world gone liquid and strange.
I wanted more. Wanted him inside me. I was desperate, frustrated, but I knew this wasn’t the moment to ask for that.
Yet I knew he would give me everything if I only asked.
“Rowan, I want to—"
“You are safe. It is okay, Violet. Let go.” He reassured me, twisting my nipples and sinking his teeth into my shoulder with just enough pain and pressure to tip me over the edge.
My heart seemed to explode as the orgasm ripped through me, tearing a scream from my throat. Rowan’s hand covered my mouth, muffling the sound, his own drawn-out “fuck” whispered next to my ear as my body convulsed.
My eyes rolled back. Every muscle spasmed, and all the tension leaked from me as I melted into him.
Bliss. Pure, uncomplicated bliss.
The toy dropped from my nerveless hand, still vibrating against my ass as we both lay there panting. Rowan was breathing hard, his length pressed firmly between my cheeks, but he made no move to seek his own relief.
His hands traced my curves once more—gentle now, almost reverent—before he slowly began to withdraw them.
“Wait,” I murmured, not ready to lose his touch.
“Shh, I have you.” He grabbed the toy, turned it off, and slid off the bed.
My skin was no longer feverish, but goosebumps rose at the loss of his body heat. I heard his footsteps padding across the floor, then returning. His touch was soft and careful as he reached for me.
“Do you want to use the restroom?”
It was so considerate that I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. “Yes, thank you.”
His hand traced a pattern from my neck to my hip bone, the touch absent-minded. I didn’t know if he was even conscious of it until he felt me shudder in response. “Sorry,” he said as he helped me stand, ensuring I could walk.
My legs felt shaky but functional. I used the restroom, hyperaware of the mess between my legs, and realized I needed to shower. There was no avoiding it.
As I washed my hands, Rowan entered the bathroom and tossed the soaked towel in the hamper. I did my best not to stare at the hard lines of his chest, at the well-defined muscles there, knowing it would rekindle the heat within me. “Do you want to rinse?” he asked.
Focus, Violet. “Yes, I feel gross.”
His tone was filled with adoration when he said, “You look divine.”
The compliment caught me so off-guard I loosed a tiny gasp. We stared at each other across the bathroom—him shirtless, me completely naked, his cock still visibly hard and tucked into his waistband. I saw his thick head poking out above the elastic, flushed and glistening.
It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen, and I wanted to wrap my lips around it.
No. This has to be a one-time thing.
“I really should rinse,” I said weakly, and fled into the shower. It was a massive glass enclosure with a rainfall head and multiple jets. For when four people need to simultaneously shower, I suppose.
Hidden among the steam and spray, I let myself breathe. I took a full shower, relishing in the water running down my body. When I rinsed between my legs, I hissed at how swollen and sensitive I still felt. A small part of me wished I’d asked for his cock instead of the toy.
It’s fine, I told myself. Orgasm achieved. Crisis averted. You can rest now.
I did feel exhausted. With the all-consuming need for an orgasm satiated, I was left limp and drained. . . but better. I was hopeful the drug’s effects had dissipated.
I finished quickly and stepped out to find Rowan waiting with a towel, ensuring I could walk without falling. I almost wanted to tell him to stop coddling me, but when I saw him still flushed and visibly hard in his sweats, desire flared again.
I shoved it down ruthlessly.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Tired but better.”
“Let me help.” He scooped me up and carried me back to the bed, where he set me down and dried my hair.
The normalcy of it felt surreal after our moment of shared intimacy. His fingers shifted through my tresses, a reminder of how his touch grounded me.
He kissed my shoulder once more—a slip, it seemed, because he stilled immediately. He mumbled, “Sorry,” then gestured for me to lie down.
That was the second time he’d apologized to me in less than an hour. It unnerved me. It felt unlike Rowan to be so apologetic. He’s worried that he took advantage of me, I suddenly suspected. I hoped I was wrong, because the truth was that Rowan had been nothing short of amazing.
Fresh sheets covered the bed. I realized he’d changed them while I’d been in the shower. I slid under the covers and looked at him expectantly. Rowan turned off the light and moved towards the door.
“Wait,” I said.
His shadow stilled in the doorway. “Yes?”
“Can you,” I paused, uncertain how to ask. “Can we sleep together?”
“I think that would be unwise.” His voice was careful, measured.
“I meant rest. Close our eyes. Literally sleep.”
“Oh.”
“It’s okay, Rowan. I don’t think you’re particularly lucid right now with the absence of blood in your brain.”
His laughter rumbled softly through the darkness between us. “This is true. Are you alright with that?”
“Being cuddled after the best orgasm of my life?” I patted the mattress, the sound carrying across the room. “Yes. Come on. I won’t bite.”
Rowan slid in beside me, and I heard him mutter under his breath. “I would honestly welcome being bitten right now.”
But he didn’t push me for anything.
I turned to my side, and Rowan followed, wrapping his arms around me until I was encased in his warmth. His nose nuzzled against the crook of my neck as he inhaled my scent.
“Is this okay?” I asked.
“No, this is not okay.” His lips pressed against my neck. “This is perfect.” His length was nestled against my ass, but he made no demands.
For once, I felt relaxed and unbearably sleepy. “Rowan.” I yawned, my eyes already drifting closed. “You promise you’re okay with. . . this?”
He was quiet behind me, but I felt his breath hot against my shoulder. “I will never be okay with how this came to be. Someone harmed you. There will be retribution for that.”
Retribution. The way he said the word, with such an icy certainty, filled me with a contradictory feeling of comfort and dread.
Rowan continued. “But am I okay with this?” he asked as he squeezed me against him. “Gods, yes, Violet. You are. . . everything.”
His words slid warm down my chest into my belly, and I smiled. I wrapped my arms around his, where they rested across my ribcage.
“Thank you, Rowan.”
“Anything for you, volchok.”
And I fell asleep to his words, feeling safer than I had in two lifetimes.