Chapter 23 Violet
Violet
My relationship with my mother is complicated, to say the least. I like to tell myself that the way she nitpicks and criticizes comes from a place of love– that this is just her twisted version of caring. That if she’s hard on me, it’s because she thinks it’ll make me stronger somehow.
But if that’s the case, then maybe I don’t want it.
Maybe I’d be better off without it altogether.
I’ve been dodging her calls for over a week now, never once considering that she’d actually show up here.
She hasn’t taken this much of an interest in my life since…
ever. I guess I should’ve known being paired with Kane would increase my value in her eyes overnight and she wouldn’t be able to resist the chance to perform her mommy-dearest routine for a brand new audience.
What I didn’t expect was him seeing straight through it.
Not only that– he stepped in and shut it down like it was instinctual; like there was never any question whose side he’d be on. No hesitation or careful diplomacy, just a line in the sand and the absolute conviction that nobody gets to cross it, not even my own family.
For the first time, I feel something dangerously close to safe. Accepted, even. And I have no idea what to do with that.
I want to say something, anything, but my tongue feels like it’s stuck to the roof of my mouth.
I don’t know where to look or what to do with my hands.
Kane, of course, is maddeningly calm, which somehow manages to be both comforting and irritating as hell.
I watch him cross the room in long, sure strides, retrieve two glasses from the bar cart, and pour whiskey into both.
He downs his in one smooth swallow, sets the empty glass aside, then returns to the couch and offers me the other without a word.
“Sorry,” I manage as I take it from him. Our fingers brush, and the contact makes my pulse skip.
He frowns, brows drawing in. “Don’t apologize for her.”
“I mean, it’s not like you signed up for family drama,” I mutter, taking a sip. The whiskey scorches a path down my throat, and I welcome it. “Guess you got a crash course in what raised me.” I glance back up at him, wiping the corner of my mouth with a thumb.
For a second, I think he’s going to make a shitty joke to keep things surface-level or just brush it off with one of his signature grunts. Instead, he moves to the opposite end of the couch and eases down onto it with a quiet exhale, dragging a hand through his hair.
“I don’t mind,” he murmurs. “Family’s always a shitshow.”
I snort despite myself and take another sip. “Yeah. Well… thanks. For, y’know.”
His brow lifts. “For what?”
I drop my gaze to the coffee table, jaw tightening. I don’t know how to put it into words– and even if I did, I’m not sure I could force them past my own stupid pride. “Forget it,” I mumble, tipping back the rest of my drink and leaning forward to set the empty glass down.
The leather creaks beneath him as he shifts his weight, draping an arm over the back of the couch and angling his body toward mine. The space between us suddenly feels charged, the air crackling with an intense new energy.
“You wanna talk about it?” he asks, dark eyes locked on mine.
“No,” I snap, too fast, too sharp. The last thing I want to do is replay that scene. I don’t want to sit in the embarrassment, don’t want to acknowledge the hollow ache that settles in my chest after every interaction with my mother.
Honestly, I just want to forget the last ten minutes ever happened.
I want to feel something other than this urge to scream.
Kane just watches me, silent and steady, as if he knows exactly what’s churning through my head. That stare alone is enough to make me squirm, the subtle heat behind it pressing in on me until I want to crawl out of my own skin.
Suddenly, I can’t sit still anymore. I push to my feet, crossing the short distance between us and stopping right in front of him.
He tilts his head, dark eyes tracking down my body before lifting back to my face. “What?”
I hesitate for half a heartbeat– just long enough to fully commit– then ease down to my knees.
He blinks, momentarily caught off guard. Before I can overthink it, I reach for his belt and pop the buckle free. His breath hitches, but he doesn’t make any move to stop me. Instead, he leans back, intent sharpening into something darker.
“What are you–” he starts, but I cut him off with a reckless smirk.
“I think you know,” I say, working his pants open and slipping my hand inside.
He’s already half-hard, and he grows to full size the second my fingers close around his girth. I stroke him once, twice, then glance up to meet his gaze as I tug his boxers down and free his cock, daring him to object.
He doesn’t. Instead, he sinks a hand into my hair, tightening his grip just enough to tilt my head back, leaning his face down over mine.
“I meant it, you know,” he rasps, voice rough. “You’re perfect the way you are.”
My belly does a traitorous little flip, and I immediately deflect with a bitter chuckle. “You know you don’t need to butter me up. I’m already on my knees, Commander.”
A half-smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Then what are you waiting for, mate?” he asks, cocking a brow as his hand tightens in my hair.
I roll my eyes, but my face is hot, my body even hotter. He guides my head down over his lap, and I put up zero resistance. My lips part to take him in, tongue swirling over his velvety crown. He groans, low and guttural as I work him deeper, showing him my gratitude without saying a single word.
Kane curses as the head of his cock bumps the back of my throat, fist curling tighter in my hair.
The tiny pinpricks of pain are like a shot of adrenaline, heat flooding my core as I start bobbing up and down over his lap, his hand in my hair guiding me with gentle but unyielding pressure.
I quickly find a rhythm–slow at first, then building, letting the intensity creep up until his hips are bucking involuntarily and his breathing is nothing but short, ragged pants.
“Goddamn,” he chokes, head falling back against the cushion. “That feels so fucking good.”
I hum in response, the vibration making him shudder. Then he suddenly releases my hair and leans forward, sweeping the straps of my dress off my shoulders. The fabric slips down my body, pooling around my knees as I let it fall to the floor.
Kane sits back and takes a second to just look at me– kneeling between his thighs, naked except for a pair of lacy black panties, mouth stretched around his cock– and the look on his face is pure, feral, possession.
“Fuck, I can smell you,” he growls, bucking his hips to push in a little deeper. “Sucking my cock is making you wet, isn’t it mate?”
I hum in response again and he hisses a curse, fingers threading into my hair.
“Slip those panties off and show me,” he commands.
As if he’s the one in control here.
I hollow out my cheeks, sucking harder, daring him to fucking make me.
He rises to the challenge, fisting my hair and pulling me off his cock. He tugs my head back, forcing me to meet his eyes as he growls, “Now, mate.”
My breath stutters, heart threatening to beat out of my chest as I reach down to peel my panties down my legs. I clumsily kick them off, then rise back up on my knees in front of him, breathless with anticipation.
His gaze drops, nostrils flaring. Then it lifts to meet mine again, pupils blown wide. “Use your fingers to spread that pretty cunt open for me.”
My cheeks burn, but the heat pulsing between my thighs is too intense to ignore. I trail a hand down my stomach, then lower, watching the way he reacts as I follow his command.
“Fuck,” he rasps, eyes clouded with lust. His jaw tightens, the muscle in it feathering like he’s barely holding on. Then he lowers my head back over his lap, and I take him into my mouth greedily, moaning around his thickness.
“Touch yourself for me, mate,” he pants, hips thrusting to match my movements as I set a rhythm again. “I wanna watch you make yourself come while you suck my cock.”
I typically don’t like being told what to do, but in this context, when he puts it like that…
yeah, I absolutely will. I’m so worked up that I can’t even think straight, fingers working my clit in fast, desperate circles as he guides my head over his cock.
My body winds tighter as he fucks into my throat with shallow, controlled thrusts, trembling with the need for release.
“Fuck, you’re so damn sexy,” he groans, cock thickening against my tongue. “I can hardly fucking take it.” The muscles in his thighs flex under my hands, body going taut. “Shit,” he chokes. “I’m gonna–”
He releases his grip on my hair, but I stay locked in place, lips stretched around his cock as he comes with a savage growl. His salty taste floods my mouth and I swallow every fucking drop as he rides out his climax, licking and sucking until he’s spent.
I pop off him and rock back on my heels, wiping my mouth with the back of a hand. Lifting my chin, I gaze up at Kane, a little breathless, a little proud.
The look in his eyes says he’s not done with me yet.
Before I can even blink, he leans down and grabs me under the arms, hauling me up onto his lap. I assume he’s going to fuck me, but instead he lifts me even higher, up over his head.
“What are you doing?” I yelp as I slap my hands against the wall to brace myself, completely caught off guard.
“You didn’t come,” he growls, coaxing my legs apart as he positions me over him. “So now you’re gonna ride my face until you do.”
I don’t argue. I’ll never argue about this. I’ve been dreaming about that magic tongue of his, desperate to experience it again.
My knees dig into the back of the sofa cushions as I straddle his head, thighs trembling with anticipation. Slowly, I lower myself onto his waiting mouth.
And it’s every bit as good as I remember.