My orgasm builds, my body shaking and core clenching.
His thrusts stutter a bit as he asks, “Can I come in this perfect little pussy? Will you milk my cock for me?”
“Yes, please, I’m so close, I just need—”
Before I can finish, the hand holding my hip moves to my clit. He pushes on it with his middle finger, giving me just the right amount of pressure. Each thrust of his hips makes me rub against his finger, and soon I’m seeing those stars he promised me.
“Fuck!” I scream as my orgasm tears through me, making my pussy clench and spasm around his thrusting cock.
“Oh fuck, Violet.” He grunts through his final few thrusts before spilling inside me. Releasing my hair, he leans over my body and plants his hand next to mine. He continues to gently thrust and grind against me, drawing out both of our pleasures. I twitch and moan. His cock pulses inside me once more, and my entire body shivers.
He rests his head against my shoulder as we both catch our breath.
After a few minutes, he slowly pulls out of me, and I whimper at the loss.
He grips my chin in his hand, turning my face toward his. “That was fucking perfect, Violet.” He plants a soft kiss on my lips. “You’re fucking perfect.”
Chapter Seventeen
Damon
I TAKE VIOLETback to my Airbnb, partly because I’m sure she doesn’t want to go back to the apartment she shared with that monster, and partly because I’m not sure if she’s going to come out of a state of shock, freak out, and call the cops. If she wanted to, I’d let her, but first I would convince her to tell them it was me who killed those fuckers. I would happily rot in jail if it meant she got to live her life in peace.
The pride that I felt watching Violet kill her abusers is indescribable, and it almost makes up for the leftover anger I feel toward those pieces of shit. While it would have been more satisfying to keep them tied up and torture them for longer, there was no way I was going to take that opportunity from her.
On the drive there, I tell her about the Venatores, about how I got involved with them and how the fair is a front for what we do. She doesn’t seem too surprised, and I can’t blame her considering what she just saw in the torture chamber.
When we get to the house I’m staying in, I lead her into the primary bedroom’s en suite. “You can rinse off in the shower while I draw you a bath,” I say, gesturing to the blood splattered up her arms.
“Oh, right.” Her voice is flat, and she’s looking somewhere far off.
I try to lighten the mood with a joke. “I’m not fucked up enough to want to bathe in their blood, darling.”
That earns me a soft chuckle. “But fucking me while I was covered in it was fine?”
We both burst out laughing, and I think maybe she’ll be okay.
She steps out of her boots and peels off her dress before turning on the shower, checking to make sure the water’s okay before stepping in. I do the same with the bath water before putting the stopper in the drain and pulling out the bath supplies the Airbnb host left for guests.
I pour in the lavender-scented whatever the fuck then stop the water when the tub is full. The bathroom also has a towel warmer, which I hang a fluffy black towel on and turn on.
Violet steps out of the shower, dripping, and glistening, and beautiful. She’s breathtaking. My eyes roam over her body—her soft skin, the swell of her breasts and hips, thewater droplets clinging to her skin. I have to hold back a groan at the thought of licking them off her.
She looks at the tub. “Do you think we’ll both fit?”
“Oh, I think we can make it fit.” I laugh at my stupid joke, and she rolls her eyes. There’s that confident, sassy woman I love. “Do you want me to sit in the tub with you?”
She nods and crosses the room to me. “Yes. I don’t want to be alone.”
“Okay.” I strip out of my clothes and step in, sinking into the warm water before guiding her in front of me, her back flush to my chest. I wrap my arms around her, resting my face in the crook of her neck. I want to spend the rest of my days like this, ending the hard nights wrapped around her, breathing her in.
We sit in silence for a while. It’s so long and she’s gone so still that I think maybe she’s fallen asleep.
Then a violent sob racks her body, and I tense.
“Hey, darling, it’s okay. It’s going to be fine.” I rub my hands over her shoulders, trying to comfort her. Fuck, she’s freaking out. She’s realized what we did, and she’s going to panic and leave and call the cops.
Another sob shakes her as she says, “They would have killed me.”
