His lips traced a slow, idle path along my shoulder blade, his breath warming my skin. His hand on my ass squeezed gently, kneading the muscle.
It was madness. Beautiful, reckless madness that would have consequences. But right now, with my body humming with satisfaction and his heartbeat steady against my back, I couldn’t bring myself to care.
I floated in that perfect, weightless space where only sensation mattered: the rasp of his stubble against my shoulder, the tickle of his breath against my spine, the heavy warmth of his arm draped over my waist, anchoring me in place.
Julian. The team. Hazel. All of it hovered on the periphery of my consciousness, problems for future-Violet to handle.
“Be back in a sec,” he whispered.
I could only hum in response, too boneless to form words. The bed dipped as he moved away, taking his heat with him.
I heard the whisper of the condom being removed, tossed aside. Then a cool cloth wiped gently between my legs, cleaning away the evidence of our coupling.
He lay down beside me, pulling me roughly back against his chest, his front to my back, his arm banding like steel across my waist. He pressed a damp kiss to the bite mark on my shoulder.
The dichotomy of him fascinated me. Gentle then rough, tender then demanding. The Griffin the world saw versus the one currently tracing idle patterns on my skin.
We lay there in silence, the air thick and fragrant. Exhaustion pulled at me, deep and tempting.
Yet, even as my limbs grew heavy, I felt the slow, steady throb between my legs, the echo of pleasure, the insistent heat radiating from him pressed along my spine.
I should suggest we sleep. We should talk about what this means. We should establish boundaries.
But the sensible Violet who made lists and followed rules seemed to have abandoned me entirely.
His fingertips traced idle patterns on my belly, drifting lower, ghosting over my still-sensitive mound. He shifted subtly. The renewed hardness nestled firmly against my tailbone was unmistakable.
A voice in the back of my mind warned that this was only making tomorrow more complicated. But that voice was drowned out by the liquid heat pooling between my thighs.
“Vi,” his low murmur was rough as sandpaper against the back of my neck. His fingers dipped lower, finding my slickness again, gathering it. “You’re still dripping.”
I should be embarrassed. Should pull away. Should remember all the reasons this was dangerous.
But I was so sick of shoulds. Of being the dutiful daughter who did as she was told.
I pressed back against him, silently seeking more. Consequences be damned. I’d face them tomorrow.
Tonight, I’d allow myself this one reckless indulgence.
His fingers slid lower, slipping easily through my swollen folds, circling my clit with practiced laziness that made my breath hitch.
He pressed a kiss to the top knob of my spine. “One more.”
Fatigue warred with the liquid heat already pooling again at his touch. The soreness was there, a low throb, but it was easily overshadowed by the insistent spark reigniting under his fingers.
He shifted his hips, the thick head of his cock nestling against the crease of my thigh, nudging insistently.
My body answered before my mind could catch up, pressing back against him, seeking the friction, the familiar heat.
His low chuckle was pure triumph. “I thought so.”
His arm tightened around me, his lips brushing my hairline as his fingers continued their deliberate torment.
“Tonight’s a long way from over.”
And strangely, impossibly, I was glad. Let tomorrow bring what it would. Tonight belonged to us.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
