No foreplay. No teasing. No fucking around, apparently.
No complaints here.
I don’t want to lose this moment and talk myself out of it, since it feels good to have him just seizing this control, making the decision feel so simple. Two people who both happen to have what the other needs with no expectations for tomorrow.
I think that’s the decision being made. It makes it feel less shallow than I really want him in this moment, so I jump back on my Anna-motto train like it’s okay to make pit-stops.
I stop thinking altogether when the blunt, thick head of his cock starts pressing into me, lining up just perfectly, before he thrusts inside so suddenly that it forces me to suck in a shocked breath.
It’s as if he’s perfected the angle, the speed, and the perfect way to make a girl accept every massive inch of him without discomfort, and my nails dig into his back as he kisses me stupid.
I don’t even have time to catch my breath, before he’s pulling back and thrusting in again, this time rendering me damn near mindless, because his hips know how to roll just fucking right.
Fuck my life.
The devouring way he’s kissing me, and the encompassing sense of possession, is ensnaring and intoxicating, just like his confidence and control.
His hand slides up to my hips as he breaks the kiss, one of his hands slamming into the decking next to my head as he anchors me to him and drives me toward a fast, desperate oblivion with every rock of his hips.
Now I realize we skipped foreplay, because he knows what the hell he’s doing. I get it now. A little too damn well.
My hands slide up to his shoulders, as I press as close to him as possible, feeling the perfect, powerful glide of his body against mine as he owns me.
It’s almost drugging—the perfection that is Emit Morrigan—as he stays half in and half out of control.
The feral sounds, the hungry desire, the aggressive edge that stays firmly on the pleasurable side…
I kiss him harder, urging him to lose a little more of that control, desperate to find out how much of him I can handle and wanting him to feel as free as he’s made me feel today.
It’s only fair.
My eyes lift and collide with Vance’s just as the orgasm washes over me. I press most of my face against Emit’s shoulders, working hard to keep as quiet as possible, but find that pretty damn hard to do, since the man is determined he’s going to wreck me tonight.
Vance stands on the balcony, not even pretending to not be watching, while still in his towel.
It’s the way he looks like he hates that he enjoys watching us that gives me a twisted sense of enjoyment out of it, simply because I can tell he’s only watching due to the inability to look away.
My head lulls back to the side, and Emit captures my lips again. I give him all my attention, as he works me toward a second cliff, his hips driving harder, until that firm line gets perfectly thinner.
It’s a beautiful thing with them sometimes…giving the monster some freedom.
Chapter 9
VANCE
I’m drying my hair with one towel, while another stays tied at my waist. We’ll have to finish the hunt tomorr—
A very telling set of growls and some barely audible moans has my eyebrows lifting in surprise, as I walk to the balcony door of my room. I moved all of Violet’s things to the room next to mine, since someone would have to pass my room to get to hers now.
I strongly regret that decision when I see what’s progressing outside.
Emit has her on the deck, completely naked, before he shoves himself inside her so hard that her entire body slides forward.
I start to go knock his head off his shoulders, until I hear her little cry of pleasure. That’s when my confusion returns.
Her hands shoot to his shoulders, and her nails make small indentions on his back, as she hangs on like she wants to keep him there.
His hands move, and one slams into the decking so hard it punches a hole through it. However, Violet just kisses him harder, as though she’s foolishly not the least bit afraid.
Fucking girl is going to be the death of me. She easily lures them into being as reckless as she is.
I walk over and grab the glass of whiskey I poured before my shower, and return to the edge of the balcony. My eyes roll around in my skull when I catch a familiar scent.
Damien Morpheous.
Before I can address his imposition, Violet’s eyes collide with mine, reminding me of my own imposition. But she just holds my gaze, staring at me as if she wants me watching…as though she’s reminding me how easily that could be me right now.
I’m also certain that look is telling me that she doesn’t even care what I think about it.
It’s as though she’s an entirely different person in his arms during this moment. So different from the soft, vulnerable, intimate thing she was in mine.
He touches her like she’s completely his, and in this particular moment, she is. She’s an animal to match his animal, and she clearly enjoys the change of pace.
“In his wildest dreams, I bet this wasn’t a best case scenario of this little secret trip of yours,” Damien says quietly next to me, even though he’s not visible.
I lift my drink to my lips, eyes on Violet, as she surrenders Emit total control over her. I hate him when I see her enjoying a second orgasm, her sounds muffled against him the best she can manage. My free hand grips the railing a little too tightly, and the wood starts to crack.
“Someone should warn him that our age doesn’t stop us from finding new ways to cock things up,” Damien says very dryly.
“He’s being entirely too rough with her,” I tell him as Violet moans again, shuddering as though she’s found another bloody orgasm.
Emit’s hips move harder, and she only moans louder, like she’s too far gone to care if he breaks her. Damn fucking reckless girl. How is she handling him?
“He’ll cock it up too,” Damien says confidently. “Then I’ll swoop in and niggle my way back into her life.”
“She puts her guard up a lot higher when you’ve fucked up,” I tell him as I watch Violet’s head tip back, her lips parting as if forced to do so.
Emit makes a sound that should terrify her, but she only turns her throat, like she’s the perfect little submissive thing in his arms.
“She’s absolutely nothing like Idun,” I mutter, annoyed when Emit flips her like a rag doll and starts fucking her from behind.
“Rub it in, dick,” Damien mutters for no reason at all.
I’m twice as annoyed at the fact Violet seems to really enjoy the savage way he’s taking her, simply because it makes it hard for me to tell him to take it easier.
“You’re both reckless with her, as if you’ve forgotten how fragile mortals can be,” I say as I lean forward on the railing, viewing the way her breasts swing with each of his thrusts, while she pushes up on her elbows.
“She’s a Portocale gypsy. They’re tougher than they look,” he says dismissively.
A roar tears through the air, and Violet cries out, as her entire body shudders in his grip.
His hips slow as he tenses, and his roar tapers off, as Violet pants heavily beneath him.
I see a familiar expression on Emit’s face as he turns and narrows his eyes at us, but still…he’s got that questioning gleam in his eyes.
“It doesn’t feel natural when something that good comes along so easily,” I say quietly to Damien, as Emit’s eyes drop back to Violet.
He runs a hand up her back as she smiles to the side, eyes closed like she’s too tired and too sated to open them.
“She’s too young to understand that,” Damien tells me quietly. “And he doesn’t understand how quickly she can just cut strings and move on. She truly is nothing like Idun.”
“What’d you do to cock it up?” I ask him idly, as I turn and walk back inside, leaving her alone with Emit.
Damien doesn’t budge as he becomes visible, letting her know he’s here, in the event she musters up enough concern to look this way again.
“Something that proves how stupid I am,” he says, seemingly more to himself than to me.
He turns and strolls into the room, and I take a seat, still wearing my towel, as I lift my phone.
“I don’t remember extending an invitation to you,” I point out.
“You left her here all alone while you went hunting. Be glad someone had the sense to come look after her while you were away.”
I cut my eyes to him, inwardly annoyed that I only just noticed his scent. Despite the wet wolf stench and the sweet Portocale blood in Violet’s veins overpowering the senses, Damien’s clearly allowed too many people to fucking forget him if his scent’s this damn weak.
“You being here will only antagonize Arion. He hates feeling left out, and he’s even more insane than usual where Violet is concerned.”
“Something we’ve yet to discover the true reasoning for,” Damien says tightly. “It’s starting to bother me now.”
“All the more reason to keep him away.”
“Or let her play along with him. We learn so much more about Arion’s agenda when we play along,” he tells me.
I lean over, putting my elbows on my knees, as my body aches from the punishing speeds I put it through tonight. I have to get quicker to deal with Arion when the time comes again.