Chapter 9 Violet
Chapter nine
Violet
I storm down the hallway, my mind spitting out every curse word it knows—some in foreign languages, just for variety.
My pulse pounds in my ears, drowning out the distant hum of conversation from the conference room.
To think I actually got up early this morning and took extra time to look nice for this stupid summit.
And for what? To be humiliated in front of the entire company.
At least I was dressed for the occasion, I think bitterly. The navy silk of my shirt must have complemented the red-hot flush of my cheeks perfectly.
I barely make it around the corner before I hear footsteps, fast and deliberate. Then his scent hits me—familiar and too close, making my body pulse with something I don’t want to acknowledge.
Before I can react, his fingers thread through mine, the grip firm and possessive.
My skin prickles at the contact—his warmth against my cold fingers, the way we fit together far too perfectly.
Heat surges up my arm as Chase tugs me into an empty boardroom.
The door clicks shut behind us, its finality making my pulse stutter.
I wrench my hand back, pressing it to my chest like I can erase the way it felt in his.
My heart slams against my ribs as I force myself to meet his gaze.
“What now?” I spit, fury blazing in my eyes. “Did you suddenly remember another reason I suck and just couldn’t wait to tell me? Maybe we should go live with a global summit, broadcast my failures in high definition for everyone to see.”
For a moment, he stays silent, just staring at me—like an opponent in the ring, calculating whether to retreat or strike without hesitation.
“I’m pretty sure last year,” I press on, my pulse hammering at the heavy silence, “I fell asleep in the summit and you didn’t bat an eyelid.”
His mouth twists in an unhinged grin. “Thank you, Violet. Your winning charm is almost too much.” He steps forward, his gaze locking onto mine with a heat that burns straight through me. The steel-like control evident in the auditorium is gone, replaced with something dark, something wild.
“Violet,” he murmurs, his voice low, chest rising with every breath, “Did it ever occur to you that just being in the same room is too much?”
He steps forward again, and I step back, my body moving on instinct. But it doesn’t matter—he’s closing in, backing me into a corner, inch by inch, until my spine hits the cold, hard wall.
“Why can’t you just forget I exist? Just how it was before,” I mumble, my voice shaking, barely audible. “Why, now, do you have to notice every single mistake I make?”
A gasp catches in my throat when he pins me to the wall, one hand settling on my hip, pulling me so close his breath caresses my cheek.
“I wish I could forget,” he says quietly, almost like it hurts.
“God, I wish it was that easy.” Goosebumps ripple across my skin as his hand slides around my throat, his thumb grazing my lips so tenderly it cracks something deep in my chest. “Can’t you see, Violet?
” His voice drops to a growl. “You’re driving me fucking crazy. ”
“I’m driving you crazy,” I scoff, but my voice wavers. “You’re not the one being asked to leave meetings for smil—”
The words choke in my throat, my mouth forming a silent ‘o’ when he brushes a thumb over my nipple, a quiet groan escaping him when he feels how hard it is.
“Good girl,” he mutters, voice thick. He teases it with slow circles through the silky fabric until a soft whimper spills out before I can stop it.
“You still don’t see it, do you, Violet?” he breathes, nudging my legs apart, his thigh pressing between them in the exact spot that makes me squirm.
“See what?” I pant, my mouth falling open.
“What’s right in front of you,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting my jaw before whispering into my ear, “How much I fucking want you, Violet. Every-damn-second-of-the-day.”
He lifts my chin with his finger, his dark eyes daring me to resist as he undoes the top buttons of my shirt, exposing the delicate lace of my bra.
He grazes his teeth over a nipple through the lace, just enough to send a ripple of pleasure trembling up my throat.
“Do you have any idea, Violet,” he rasps, “how fucking beautiful you are?”
I meet his gaze, lashes fluttering with mock sweetness. “Is that your favorite line, or am I just the lucky one?” Despite the defiance I’m desperately clinging to, my voice comes out breathless.
His mouth curves into something wicked. “No,” he says, as he tilts my head back, nipping a trail up my neck until all I can feel is the blood burning beneath my skin. “But it seems like I’ll have to work harder to keep this smart mouth busy.”
The second his mouth finds my parted lips, soft and waiting, his control snaps.
He slams his mouth on mine, his tongue sliding through my lips with a tortured groan.
His hands find my ass, gripping hard as he lifts me with ease.
Instinctively, I lock my legs around his sculpted hips, my back hitting the wall with such force it steals what little breath I have left.
He doesn’t just kiss me—he fucking devours me.
Teeth scraping, tongues lashing, lips biting and sucking, dragging the air from my lung as if he’s punishing me for daring to exist.
Sweet Mary, Chase Knight, when he loses control, is a beast—and I’m utterly lost to him.
My skirt rises higher and higher as he crushes me against the wall.
And holy fuck, he’s as hard as steel, grinding against my soaked panties like he’s trying to fuck me through the thin fabric of our clothes.
I’ve never been kissed like this, our lips desperate, as if we’re trying to crawl under each other’s skin.
Just when I think I can’t take it anymore, he slows it down; the kiss turning tender, lingering in a way that leaves me trembling.
I moan into his mouth, his tongue brushing against mine so delicately it sends a shiver down my spine.
His grip loosens, and I slide down the length of his body, tingling all over as my hardened nipples scrape his chest. His hands cradle my face, guiding me closer—his touch soft but capable of ruining me in an entirely different way.
Until the sound of heels clicking along the hallway has my body reeling like someone yanked on the reins. I pull away like a skittish animal.
What the hell am I doing?
Chase’s eyes darken, his hand brushing my cheek like he’s trying to pull me back to his orbit, the one where I’m his completely.
“Violet, baby, look at me,” he urges, his tone firm.
I can’t.
I shake my head, pulling my skirt back down.
“This is wrong,” I say, panic crawling up from my stomach and squeezing my throat.
I slide out from underneath him, buttoning my blouse.
The Violet I know doesn’t take risks. She can’t afford to.
I press my fingertips on my swollen lips, still tingling from that earth-shattering kiss.
“Why did you do that?” I murmur, almost to myself, my mind disorientated, like I’ve woken from a dream.
He runs his fingers through his hair, exhaling with frustration. “Why does a man usually kiss a woman, Violet?”
I make the mistake of looking at him. I wish I hadn’t.
Every time I look at him, I forget what a terrible idea he is.
My custom-made ruin. That dark, tousled hair falling over his forehead.
The perfectly carved face. And those damn eyes—shining like polished onyx, burning a hole in my heart I’ll never be able to fill.
And holey shit.
The unmistakable hard, thick outline of his cock. Even through the fabric, he’s huge.
Heat scorches my skin but I snap my gaze away, mind scrambling for an escape. “I don’t want to leave the company or move to another state,” I blurt out like an idiot, Millie’s warning ringing in my ears.
His brow furrows, a mix of confusion and amusement flickering in his eyes. “Why the hell would you do that?”
“I—I should go,” I say, bolting to the door, smoothing my hair down before I reach for the handle.
“Violet, please...” His voice is a rough plea behind me, but I don’t stop. I fly out the door and crash straight into Millie.
“Violet, is everything okay? I was looking everywhere for you.” Her head snaps to the open door and Chase. Her eyes widen, and she lets out a small gasp before quickly recovering.
“I’m good,” I say, speed-walking toward the elevator. “I’m just on my way back to my desk.”
“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” She mutters under her breath, half-jogging to keep up with my large strides.
“Nothing,” I lie, my hand trembling as I jab the button for my floor. After the way Millie tore into me for showing up at Chase’s office unannounced, I don’t even want to think about what she’ll say if I tell her what just happened.
“Violet, come on,” she presses, folding her arms, anger in her tone. “You both looked guilty as hell. Your lips are red and swollen, there are scratches on your face, and—oh god...” She lifts my chin, her voice rising with disapproval. “All over your neck.”
A lump forms in my throat, and I fight back the sting of tears.
It's been a rollercoaster of emotions today, and I’m getting whiplash from it.
“It’s nothing, Millie. A mistake. It’s over.
” I drag my eyes back to hers, pouring every ounce of conviction I have into it.
“But please, you can’t say anything to anyone. I’m begging you.”
Her expression softens when she sees the panic in my eyes. “Okay,” she exhales. “But only if you promise to stay away?”
The elevator slows, stopping at the Marketing floor. Millie steps toward the door but pauses, glancing back at me with a warning I already know is coming. “Just so you know, Violet, you’re doing the right thing. I mean, saying it’s over. He’ll have another woman before the day is out.”
The words cut deeper than they should. I force a tight smile, pretending they don’t. “I know, Millie.”
She hesitates, then digs into her pocket and pulls out a ticket. “Oh—before I forget. Ryan told me to give this to you. He said he figured you didn’t grab one but should still come.”
I blink. “He did? Thank you.”
Millie smirks as she steps out of the elevator. “It’ll be fun, you know. You should come.”
The doors slide shut, sealing me in silence. I stare at the ticket in my hand. I shouldn’t go. Being anywhere near Chase is a bad idea.
Yet, as the elevator begins its descent, my fingers drift to my lips. A ghost of a smile teases my mouth. I can still taste him, smell him, feel his rough hands branding my skin.
There’s nothing cold-hearted about Chase when he kisses—he’s a raging inferno, a beast capable of making you forget your own name. And as much as my most depraved thoughts crave that beast—his touch, his control, his possession—I know it’s safer to walk away.
But in the darkest corners of my mind, I don’t want safe.
I want him.