Archive of Our Own ^beta

After dessert, Xaden takes Violet to his bedroom. He promises her that her things will be there, her pack and her gifts. He’d had a maid move them during dinner, because he knew she’d wind up wherever he put her.

He undoes his wards with a slight flourish, glancing over his shoulder at Violet to see if she’s impressed. And she is. She always has been, truly, but even more so now that she understands the type of power he’s wielding. Every time she’d sat in a classroom at Basgiath and seen a demonstration by someone supposedly exceptional—of magical strength, or of battlefield wit—all she’d ever been able to think about was how these people paled in comparison to Xaden.

He holds the door open for her, and she steps under his arm. His bed is made, but she notes that his pillow is slightly rumpled, and it takes everything in her to stay standing, to not collapse into the bed, lay her head in the same spot his had laid, to smell him on his sheets.

She’s trying to at least appear normal, though she senses she isn’t pulling it off.

Xaden shuts his door, then crosses to his desk. He leans back against it, so his legs are outstretched towards her, but his arms are crossed over his broad chest. “I have a proposal, Violence.”

“Oh?” Her mouth goes dry. “What does your proposal entail?”

He grins at her. Already, he knows he is victorious. “I’ll give you some context.” He lets out a little sigh. Pure theatrics, for her sake. “I need to look at Tauri’s proposal, and you need your pussy taken care of.”

The boldness with which he delivers this declaration still manages to shock Violet, even though she should seriously have come to expect it by now.

“I think you took great care of me already, Xaden.”

“Mm, I did, but you’re feeling awfully empty now, aren’t you?”

She squirms without meaning to, which is answer enough. It isn’t her fault she feels empty. She is empty! She should at least have the reward of his come dripping down her leg, but he’d pulled out before that had been possible.

“That’s alright,” he soothes. He pushes himself off the desk, then comes to stand behind her. Slowly, he removes her dress, then maneuvers himself to the floor in front of her, to remove her shoes. “Nightgown, now.”

A black, silk nightgown had been left on Xaden’s side of the bed. For her.

He reaches for it, and holds it in his hands, at the ready. “Arms up.”

She complies, sliding into the cool fabric with his help. He’s still yet to provide her with any underwear, but she supposes that doesn't matter.

“I think I’m missing some parts of your proposal,” she points out.

“Brilliant Violence,” he coos. “You are.” Xaden’s lips twitch. He takes her hand and guides her back toward his desk. He’d gotten his hands on Tauri’s letter to her, at some point, and he has a letter of his own from Tauri sitting on his desk. He sits in his chair, then unbuttons his pants, freeing his cock.

Her breath catches in her throat. “You want me to–”

“If you’re a good girl and keep my cock warm, I’ll let you come when I’m done. How does that sound?”

Excellent. Incredible. Something from the darkest corners of her dreams.

She swallows. “It’ll do.”

He smirks up at her, then opens his arms, as if to say climb on.

She swings a leg over his lap, so she’s standing over him, then hitches her nightgown over her hips. He holds his cock in his fist, and she has to force herself to look away, lest she get distracted by that image. He lines himself up with her, then uses his other hand to guide her down.

The slide is perfect. She’s still slick from earlier, still stretched, but he’s just big enough that there’s a slight adjustment period. There always is—he isn’t something she can just get used to. There’s a point where it’s almost too much, and she finds herself whimpering, “Xaden.”

But he says, “You can take it.”

And she can. She never wants to disappoint. In unison, as he bottoms out inside of her, they inhale, and they exhale.

“Perfect, Violence,” he tells her. “Now, stay still.”

She can do that. She can be good for him, follow every instruction. Her feet dangle on either of him. Now that she’s seated, she doesn’t touch the floor. But that doesn't matter. Xaden has her.

He keeps one hand on his desk, so feels the warmth of his arm, bracketing her, while his other hand rests against her ass. He shifts, slightly, sending his cock into her inner walls. Without meaning to, she whimpers.

“Shh,” he soothes. “You’re alright. You’re doing so good.”

She isn’t doing much of anything, actually, just sitting on his cock, but she’ll take whatever praise he’ll offer her. She has to force her hips to stay still. Desperately, she wants to squirm. Her clit touches him, but there’s no friction.

The papers on the desk ruffle. Xaden has begun to read. The hand resting on her ass shifts, so that his forearm covers the width of her, holding in her place. She ducks her head, resting her forehead on his shoulder, so that he can see the paper better. Mindlessly, he presses a kiss to the side of her neck.

“You’re alright,” he says again.

But she isn’t alright, not completely. Her heart’s begun to beat faster and faster.

She says, ”If you need to focus–”

“I don’t.”

Her feet kick out, the most protest she’ll allow. “His demands aren’t fair, Xaden.”

“Of course they aren’t.” Xaden shifts his grip once more, to soothe her further. She lets out a little noise of protest. He shouldn’t have to be thinking about her right now, or her feelings. He has a country to run. “They never are. You know that.”

And she does. He’s always let her read the agreements, after they’re signed.

“But you agree to them,” she says, softly, thinking out loud more than speaking. “You agree to his terms when I’m here.”

“I do,” Xaden concedes. He brushes a kiss to her hairline. “You make me soft. Well, not literally. Evidently.”

She huffs, but now she can’t stop thinking about how he feels inside of her, hot and hard. Desperately, she wants him to move. She wants him to bend her over the desk and fuck her until she can’t remember where she is or why.

Throat tight, she says, “Hilarious, Xaden.”

“Mm, I thought so. You can keep asking questions, Violence. I don’t mind.”

“I’m supposed to be holding your cock inside me,” she counters. “That’s all I’m supposed to be doing now.”

He lets out a little tsk and flips Tauri’s letter over, to inspect the backside of it. “I always want to talk to you. I missed that, you know. Talking to you, getting your opinion on things.”

He says it the way he’d deliver any of his other demands, so Violet knows her lines. She knows she is supposed to say, I know.

But she asks, “Really?”

Xaden reaches for her head, lifting it from his shoulder until she’s looking at him. His papers are completely abandoned on the desk behind her. He only has eyes for her.

“Do we need to talk about this?” he says, and though his voice is deep, it’s not impatient. He’ll talk to her about it. He’ll tell her how he feels, if she asks him to.

At the thought of it, she is robbed of her voice. She sits there, staring at him. The evidence of his attraction, and hers, is undeniable. She can feel him inside of her, and that closeness can’t be understated. He is everywhere, always.

But she can’t speak. She’s not sure why, but her vocal chords have gone tight, and she can’t make them move.

She doesn’t have to. Someone knocks at the door, but Xaden doesn’t move.

“Violence,” he says, slowly. “Why do you think I always say yes to the terms when you’re here?”

“You have—your country has needs,” she says, though she feels like she’s scrambling for the answer, despite the fact that it should come fairly easily. She knows what sorts of deals her mother had come to Tyrrendor to negotiate, and she knows what Tauri had asked of her in his missive. The Tyrrs need weapons, a specific type of dagger. There’s debates, too, regarding support of the Poromish. Whenever Violet reads those reports, however, she’s always felt like she was missing something.

But the daggers make sense. Xaden has to accept some of Navarre’s terms because Tyrrendor needs daggers.

He stares at her, intently. Inside of her, she feels his cock, hard for her. “I have needs, Violence.”

The knock on the door sounds once more. Xaden sighs, sounding almost irritable, then flings a shadow at the crack near the floor.

“Liam,” he reports. “What do you think, Vi?”

Suddenly, Violet becomes more aware of just how revealing—how scandalous—their position is. His cock is inside her, for one thing. She imagines how that must look. If she could see them from any other angle, she’d see him disappearing inside of her, see how stretched out her entrance must be to accommodate him. Her nightgown has ridden up enough that she can feel the air in the room on her ass, and the warmth of Xaden’s arm, bracketing her.

“What do I think about—about-”

She doesn’t particularly want to say his name, not when Xaden’s inside of her. She feels like he’d take issue with that, possessive as he is, even if she isn’t his to possess, anymore.

“He wants to know what to do about Tauri,” Xaden says. He speaks easily, like he’s already talked to Liam about it, which should be impossible. He’s been stuck to Violet's side since she arrived.

“Oh,” she says. “Right.”

She braces her hands on his shoulders and starts to climb off of him, but Xaden clamps his hands on her hips.

“What do you think you’re doing, Violence?”

“He’s going to come in, isn’t he?” She gnaws on her lips, nervous at the very idea of it. Her new position, just slightly lifted off his cock, reveals more of both of them. She can see the base of him, and she thinks he can see her center. “So I should go hide in the bathroom, or something.”

Xaden’s brow furrows in thought, then he shakes his head, dismissively. “Absolutely not.” He slots her down on his cock. He isn’t gentle, and she can’t help but moan. He’s deeper, somehow, than he had been moments before. Her pleasure radiates out from her core. “You’re my priority. You’re not going anywhere.”

“You’re the king,” she counters, voice low. She doesn’t even know why she says it, except that the idea of him putting her before any of her responsibilities—of making her that at all, one of his responsibilities, something he is responsible for—fills her with a desire to flee. From him, from the weight of it.

“So I should be able to do whatever I want, shouldn’t I?” He’s smirking at her, she knows. She hears it, his cockiness. “I’ve given them a lot, Violence. Enough.”

“But what will you do?” Her anxiety is impossible to hide when she’s so close to him. Her voice wobbles under that pressure. “You said you had to handle the missives.”

Xaden runs his hands up and down her back, under her nightgown. They come back to rest on her ass. “I can talk to him through the door, like this, and you can stay right here. How does that sound?”

Quickly, she says, “Whatever you want.”

“That’s an awful lot of power, Violence,” he murmurs. He’s being impertinent. He already has an awful lot of power over her, and he knows it. He relishes it. “There are millions of depraved things I want to do with you.”

She huffs, but she doesn’t mean it. Right now, she can’t imagine truly being exasperated with him. “You can talk to him through the door.”

“While you warm my cock?” he presses.

She knows what he wants, to hear the words leave her lips. She complies. “You can talk to him through the door while I warm your cock, Xaden.”

“Good,” he murmurs. His cadence is low and sultry enough to send shivers coursing through, like his words themselves are running over her skin, covering and caressing her. And then, she feels his attention pivot. He waves a hand in the direction of his door, parting the sound shields. “Yes, Mairi?”

There’s a pause. Liam, she suspects, is figuring out how to reply. She thinks she can hear him shifting, kicking at the floor. “Can I come in?”

“Not tonight,” Xaden replies easily, casually. Violet can almost delude herself into thinking this is somehow standard practice for him, but she knows that’s not true. She’s special to him. “Tell me what you need.”

Liam clears his throat. “Bodhi sent me to find out what front we’re putting on for Tauri.”

Violet watches Xaden’s eyes roll back in his head. Under his breath, he mutters, “Bodhi.” To Liam, he says, “What front does Bodhi think we’re putting on for Tauri?”

Violet can’t help but squirm a little in his lap. Her new position left her hips at an angle, and she wants to rectify this, so she shoves her hips further into herself. Her movement sends his cock into her inner walls. For a split second, she sees stars. Xaden grips her hips, and moves her once more. A better position for her body, but not for her pleasure. She pouts at him. He whispers, “Be good.”

She freezes mid-shiver. Liam could hear him. Anyone going past their bedroom could hear him, the way he talks to her, only her. As if sensing her concern, Xaden leans closer, lips by her ear, and whispers, “You’ve been so perfect, Violence. Just a little while longer, then I’ll give you your reward.”

She nods, jaw clamped down tight so no whimpers sneak out. She sees the mischief in Xaden’s eyes, though, and she knows she’s in for it.

“Liam?” Xaden prompts. His hands come down tighter on her hips. Just as Liam begins to speak, Xaden bounces his thigh, sending Violet up his cock, then sliding her back down. A moan seeps out between her gritted teeth.

Liam clears his throat. “Bodhi thinks we’ll agree to his terms, seeing as…”

“Seeing as Violet’s here?” Xaden finishes. He seems to somehow find this humorous. Violet’s cheeks are hot.

“Yes,” Liam admits, sounding somehow embarrassed. “Is she…”

“In here with me?” Xaden finishes once more. “Yes. She is. Say hi, Violence.”

Violet gawks at him. He can’t possibly…but he’s smirking at her. He seriously thinks she should say hi to his friend while split open on him.

“Hi?” Violet squeaks.

“Hi, Violet," Liam replies, tiredly indulgent. “Nice to…well, not see you. Know you’re here, at least.”

Violet stares at Xaden, lips parted. She has no idea how to reply to him, under her current conditions.

Xaden chuckles. “She’s happy to be here, believe me. She’s just not feeling particularly talkative right now.”

Under her breath, she hisses, “Oh Gods, Xaden!” She swats at his bicep in retaliation, but Xaden catches her hand before she can make contact. He brings her wrist to his mouth, kissing the back of her hand, then the veins of her wrist. He raises one eyebrow, as if daring her to retaliate further.

“Right,” Liam says. “So. Tauri?”

Xaden cocks his head at Violet. “What do you think, Violence?”

She thinks she isn’t supposed to be capable of thinking when his cock is in her. Still, she knows what she would do, in Xaden’s position. She’s thought about that enough in her life that she doesn't need to devote any energy to it now.

“Renegotiate. Get better terms. There’s a reason he hasn’t outright invaded, and you should use that to your advantage, whatever it is.”

Xaden grins. It’s easy to spot his primary emotion in response to her answer: pride. She feels like she’s glowing.

“Elaborate,” he prods. All the while, his hands roam her body.

“He’s charging you a ridiculous rate, significantly above market price. Get him to bring it down to something fair.”

Liam says, “So we’re negotiating? That’s what I should tell Bodhi?”

“You can tell Bodhi whatever you want,” Xaden says, but his distraction is evident in his voice. His eyes are locked on hers, and he is entranced. Consumed. “I’m done for the night.”

He sounds so serious. His words drip with promises of sex.

Liam must not hear that, though, because he laughs. But then, inconceivably, he says, “Are the dragons going at it that bad?”

Violet takes a second to process the words, but she can’t miss the way Xaden stiffens. “Mairi,” he snaps. An order, definitely, though not one she can interpret.

“What dragons?” Violet asks.

Liam, confused, replies, “Tairn and Sgaeyl? You know how they get, when they’re reunited. Since they’re—”

“Stop, Mairi.”

“What is he…” There’s anger in Xaden’s eyes, molten. He throws a shadow at the door, and Violet hears Liam scurry away from it, which is incriminating enough. “Since Tairn and Sgaeyl are what, Xaden?”

Xaden shakes his head. She’s sitting up straight in his lap, now, and his head comes to rest on her shoulder, for a change. No matter the angst coursing through her, she can’t resist this. She reaches for his hair, and threads her fingers through it. Mentally, she reaches out to Tairn.

“Do you know what he’s talking about? Liam, I mean.”

“I know Deigh’s rider,” Tairn answers. He sounds gruffer than usual. Angrier.

And he has no reason to know Liam’s dragon, a member of the Tyrrish riot. Unless he knew him before, but even still, his connection to Liam shouldn't be something Tairn is privy to. Violet hadn’t even known of Liam’s dragon, all the way in Navarre.

“I’lll–” Xaden starts, then he freezes against her collarbone once more. It takes Violet a moment to know why. His voice hadn’t left his mouth. His words had echoed in her mind.

“Xaden,” she says, then, when he doesn’t move, she pulls at his hair, forcing him up right. “Xaden.”

His eyes are distraught. She sees how torn up he is in them, and still, she can’t make herself understand.

“I am sorry, Silver One. It was best, for my mate and her rider.”

“Your mate,” Violet echoes, disbelieving. “You don’t have a mate.”

A new voice snarls in her mind. Somehow, Violet knows it’s Sgaeyl. “Uncalled for. Ignorant, petulant child.”

“Stop,” Xaden snaps. In her head, again. She hears his voice, and his lips do not move. He’s in her head. “It isn’t her fault. Go do something else. I’ll handle her.”

He’s in her head, but he isn’t speaking to her. Somehow, he’s speaking to all four of them. A four way connection. Sgaeyl snarls once more, something in her language Violet cannot interpret.

“Xaden,” she whispers, voice cracking. “They’re mates.”

“Yes, Silver One.” Tairn answers, not Xaden. She wants Xaden to tell her. Xaden. Her Xaden. Because this changes everything. “We had to wait until we were out of Navarre, and out of the squad leader’s reach.”

Violet recoils. What could this possibly have to do with Dain? She scans her mind for everything she knows of dragon mating bonds, and she thinks, and she thinks, and she—

“We’re interdependent,” she tells Xaden. It flies from her tongue as she thinks it. “If I die—”

“If you die, I die, Violence,” Xaden confesses. And it is a confession. He sounds as if she’s tortured it out of him.

Suddenly, she becomes aware of her situation, the indignity of it. His cock is inside her, even still. She pushes off his chest, and this time, he lets her go. She doesn’t think about the way he slides out of her, or how empty she feels without him. She gets to her feet, and retreats to the window, arms crossed protectively over her chest. Suddenly, her nightgown is too short, and her un-bound breasts are too prominent, and he’s seen too much of her. He’s felt too much of her. He knows too much of her. He is too much of her.

“You didn’t tell me,” she accuses.

“You were in Navarre,” he counters. Even as he speaks, the urgency he reveals tells Violet that she isn’t the only one he’s convincing. “You were in Navarre, and you didn’t write.”

A laugh leaves her chest, indigent. “I wasn’t allowed to write, Xaden! And I had no fucking idea–”

“Who do you think gave you your saddle?” he demands. “Who? Your knives?”

Tairn had shown up with the saddle one day. She’d sort of assumed he’d consulted a dragon with an older rider, and had them handle the commissioning process. They’d never spoken of it. Violet had thought Tairn wanted to save her the embarrassment. He was in her head, after all. He knew better than anyone else how she operated.

“Tairn?”

“I made regularly scheduled visits to my mate throughout the last few months, Silver One. We cannot go longer than a few days without each other. And when I would see her, we would discuss the things that mattered to us.”

Violet. Violet matters to Tairn, and as his rider, she matters to his mate, if only logistically.

She feels like she’s going to vomit. She braces herself on Xaden’s windowframe. He starts to approach her, footsteps thundering. In his state, he is robbed of his kingly grace.

“Let me–”

“No,” she snaps. “Stay there. Don’t touch me.”

“Violet,” he pleads.

“No.” She takes a shuddering breath. She will not vomit on Xaden Riorson’s bedroom floor. She will not push the limits of her dignity any further. “Keep going, Tairn. There’s more, isn’t there?”

“We conferred with the Shadow Wielder to find ways to help you, Silver One. He cares for you, greatly.”

She can’t look at him. She can’t refute Tairn’s statement, because she knows. She knows and she knows and she knows. But she can’t be confronted with the full force of that care, because she’s seen it before, the way it seeps out of him, unable to be contained by any wall.

“Why didn’t I get to know?” she presses. “Just because of Dain?”

“Ask the Shadow Wielder,” Tairn says. “He should be the one to tell you.”

Violet’s breath leaves her in one single exhale, like she’s been punched or slapped. Xaden takes another step, hand-outstretched. She feels Tairn retreating from their mental connection.

“Why?” she demands. “Xaden. Why?”

“Don’t do this,” he says, quietly. His words seem squished, somehow. Smaller than they should be, than they ever have been. “Don’t make me say it.”

“Of course you have to fucking say it! I deserve to–”

“You deserve better,” he interjects. “You deserve better than to be tied to me, like this. I wasn’t going to force you into this, Violet, and the bond does that.”

“I deserve better than being lied to, Xaden,” she snarls. “Maybe I want to be tied to you! Maybe that’s–”

She cuts herself off. She can’t do this. He doesn’t want her, evidently. He doesn’t. He never did. That was why things between them had disintegrated before. He can talk all he wants about her never writing to him, but she wasn’t the one who’d been betrothed. That had been him. All him.

“I am not just me, Violet. You’ll have to leave your country. Your home. Your mother. Your sister. Your friends.”

The gravity of their situation presses down on her. She feels like she’s sinking down, joining the rocky mountain Riorson house was built onto, sliding through the shards.

“I know,” Xaden says, gently, almost. He approaches her fully, and when he reaches to cradle her face, she lets him. “I know, it’s too much to ask of anyone, Violet. You’d have to swear your allegiance to Tyrrendor, and only to Tyrrendor, and I understand—”

“I’ll do it,” Violet says. “I’ll swear fealty to you, Xaden.”

He freezes, and in that moment, he is entirely indecipherable. But she knows her own feelings, inside and out. She’s wanted this, always. She has always been loyal to him, and only to him.

“No, Violence,” he murmurs. “The dragons forced your hand, and I don’t want that.”

“The dragons didn’t–”

“You were going to leave,” he declares. “You were going to leave tomorrow, and I was never going to see you again. The only thing that changed that was the dragons.”

“I didn’t know I could stay, Xaden! I had no choice but to go!”

She couldn’t have stayed, no matter how much she wanted to. Navarre–meaning her mother, who is her country in Violet’s mind—would have started a war to get her back. She couldn’t stay.

“You could always have stayed. Do you think I wouldn’t protect you?” Xaden demands.

Incredulously, Violet gawks at him, at his audacity. “I wouldn’t be worth it—”

He pulls her face into his own, covering her lips with his own. Every kiss from him is intense, but this one is somehow more so. His lips are searing her own with their heat, and his hands hold her so tightly, she knows that even amidst his fire, he’s afraid. He’s afraid she’ll leave. He wants her. He wants her to stay.

His teeth graze her tongue. The sensation is sharp, and consequently, undeniably Xaden. She pulls back, just enough to gasp out his name, and nothing else.

He swears, “Nothing could be more worth it. Nothing.”

She says his name once more, a whisper, a concession.

She doesn’t know what she means to follow it up with. A promise, maybe, to stay. She could do it. No one could blame her, with Tairn’s situation. She can stay.

And even if, to the outside world, it’ll look like she is staying for the dragons, she can convince Xaden of the truth. She’s staying for him. Always, everything, for him.

But a spark of lust hits her center, and though she’s often felt lustful around him, when kissing him especially, there’s something undeniably foreign about it.

“Xaden,” she says, slowly. She doesn't verbalize the question, but she doesn’t have to. In real time, she watches him go tense. His hand splays across his lower stomach.

“This is what Liam meant,” he says, voice low. He reaches out to grab the wall beside them, supporting himself, just as another punch of lust hits Violet. Her very skin feels hot, her blood bubbling beneath it, and her cunt….

She can’t even think about her cunt without wanting to jump Xaden.

“You’re going to have to–” she cuts herself off with a moan, just as feelings stampede down the bond at her, hot and wet and I need, I need, I—

The wave recedes. She blinks, coming back to herself.

“That’s Tairn,” Xaden tells her. “It comes and it goes.”

Her voice floats high. “This has…they’ve done this before?” Xaden has felt this before, without her.

“When he’d come visit her here, yes. You need to ground, build your shields up. You can do that, Violence, can’t you?”

She’s nodding, because she can ground, technically, but she’s distracted. There’s that telltale heat in her lower stomach, growing more and more insistent. She slams her shields into place with relative ease—his presence somehow makes it easier to ground, even like this, the stone floor shaking beneath her feet.

Still, grounding isn’t enough. The door she shuts on Tairn’s power is see-through, and she can feel everything she could before, just…muted.

“It’s lust,” she says. “Isn’t it?” Xaden nods, jaw clenched tight. “Then we can take care of it. Together.”

Xaden’s head tilts, brow furrowed, but he only manages to hold the face for a moment before his eyes go molten. As if of their own accord, his hands reach for her waist. She leans toward him, but he stops himself before making contact, leaving mere inches between their skin. The tension in his every muscle is obvious, his very skin vibrating with the force he’s using to resist his desires. She wonders if, in his brain, he feels the same way she had. I need, I need, I need.

Her. He needs her. He’s reaching for her.

“Vi,” he groans, voice already wrecked, as if he’s been fucking her for hours. “Vi, you need to shield, alright?”

“I did, I did,” she insists, needing him to know she’d listened, she’d always listen. “But it’s still there, Xaden. I still feel–”

She wants nothing more than to have him, above her or beneath her, just in her. She needs to be one with him, to feel him beneath her hands. He’s so beautiful, and she needs–

Her hands are on his shoulders in seconds, moving up and down his arms. She needs access to all of him, because he is hers. She surges onto her toes, kissing his neck, and she wants to dig her teeth into his neck, to mark him. She doesn’t want him to leave this room again without that marking, that evidence of her possession.

“Vi.” His groan is just as sinful. “Vi, I can’t–”

She peels back from his neck just enough to look up at him. She sees the lust burning in his eyes, and as the heat of her own arousal slows to a simmer, she thinks his does as well, and yet, the lust remains. She’d put it there.

“You can,” she promises, voice shifting to something more snappish, more demanding. Her teeth are supposed to have something soft beneath them, now. She wants him. “I want you to.”

“It’s not you,” he murmurs, hands soothing up and down her sides. “Not entirely.”

“Xaden,” she whines. Xaden’s knees seem to buckle, and then he’s holding her to him, his body shuddering beneath her own. “Let me.”

Her face is at the crook of his neck, and though he’d only gotten her a few inches off the ground, she fights him for purchase, wrapping her legs around his waist, grinding herself on him. She hears where his heartbreak concentrates. He wants it to be all her, for her to want him this badly, without the confines of humanity holding her back. And that’s how she wants him—that’s how she’s always wanted him.

“Don’t we—” the thought flickers in her mind, then out of it, overtaken by another surge of want, a flash of cold night air on her skin, no, scales. She recovers to the feel of Xaden’s hot skin beneath her forehead, her sweat racing down his skin, her breath gracing him. “We’re interconnected. The bond. You were in my head.”

His hand comes to the base of her scalp, using her hair to guide her face to meet his. She knows he’s overtaken by Sgaeyl in part because even this is rougher than he’d usually be with her, but she loves it. The sound that leaves her throat at the feel of his fingers, brushing her scalp, is obscene.

He crashes his lips into hers, and she feels his hips, bucking into her. He’s seeking her, his reprieve. Against her lips, he murmurs, “I’m sorry.”

It almost makes Violet laugh. There’s no one else she’d rather be this close to, no one in the world she’d rather have in her mind, in her soul.

She wants to tell him, but another wave crashes down on her, lighting her skin on fire.

“It’s—Xaden, it’s–” she digs her nails into his skin, the only way she can think to translate it, to want something so bad it hurts. Their lips meet again, with tongue and teeth. She only pulls back once she’s gasping.

“I know, I know,” he tells her. He starts grappling with her nightgown, then yanks it over her head. “Better? Less hot?”

She nods, rapidly, but her vision is blurry. Everything in the room except him is blurry, anyway. Him, she can see in perfect detail. The sharp line of his jaw, the stubble already growing in. Somehow, he looks like he’s glowing, and she wants him so, so badly.

“Keep taking care of me,” she pleads. “Fuck me. Make it better.”

“Vi,” he groans. “I want to, baby, of course I want to, but are you—”

“The bond,” she gasps out. She’s squirming against his hold, and she almost thinks grinding herself down on the tip of him might be enough to make her come. But in this state, she needs more than one orgasm. She needs him to push her body beyond anywhere she’s gone before. Her skin is sizzling, and she wants that heat to overtake every part of her. Her mind, she needs him in her mind. “Use the bond. To see.”

He jolts. “How did you–”

“I read, Xaden,” she snaps, but her frustration can’t hold up against the weight of her need. She’s writhing against him, whimpering, “Check. Please check.”

“Whatever you want,” he promises, and she hears in his voice the need beneath the surface, the parts that both are him and aren’t. He wants to give himself to her, over and over again, and she wants to take him, he’s mine.

A cool shadow brushes up against her mind, and Violet startles, though only for a second. He belongs in her mind, and the coolness of him is welcome, a shower during the sweltering summer, the cool water she’d use to rid herself of Basgiath’s grime.

She starts, “Do you need me to—”

“Just relax,” he soothes, pressing his lips to her forehead even as he explores her, beneath her bones. “Oh, Violet.”

His shadows wrap around her mind. She feels them, everywhere, inescapably. She feels held, somehow, on every level.

“Yes?” she asks, voice somehow shaky in the face of this undeniable intimacy. “You believe me? You see it?”

She hadn’t shown him anything, but she hadn’t thought she’d need to. Her need, her want, both were omnipresent in her, always.

His lips press into her temple, then kiss down her face to seal onto her own lips. It’s wet and needy and she knows she has him—he wouldn’t kiss her like this otherwise.

In her mind, she hears his voice, “I see it, Vi. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

He carries her to his bed, setting her down in the center. “You’re still stretched out for me, aren’t you?” he asks, and Violet means to say yes, yes, yes, yes, but he’s prying her legs apart, and taking a look himself. “Of course you are. You’re perfect, Violence, and you have a perfect cunt.”

She whimpers uncontrollably as his hands dig into her thighs, and her mind races, more, more, and more, now. He presses a light kiss to her clit, teasing, but then, he breaks again, hit by something else from Sgaeyl that sends his face into her cunt, so close she doubts he can even breathe. His tongue laps at her entrance, exploring her. The feel of it is overwhelming. Her thighs fight his grip, wanting to clench together, clamp down on his skull and hold him there.

“Xaden,” she whines, and he pulls back, lips wet and shiney. “Fuck me.”

“Come for me,” he says, “and I’ll think about it.”

She whines his name once more, but he clamps his lips down on her center, and quickly, the sounds leaving her devolve into whimpers and moans. She’s senseless with her pleasure, and by the time his fingers find her entrance, she can’t make words anymore, only sounds.

He circles her clit with his tongue, flicking playfully, and she’s so fucking close, she starts to buck her hips up into him, but she feels something cold, settling in atop her waist. She clambers to her elbows to look, and finds a band of shadow, holding her down.

“Xaden,” she gasps.

“I’m not stopping till you orgasm, Violence,” he promises. And he means it, too. He only picks up the pace, fucking his fingers into her, over and over. Her eyes roll back in her head, and she lets her body writhe against his shadows and his hands, holding her down.

Her release sneaks up on her. In one second she’s so close, and in the next, she’s toppling off the cliff to the feel of his lips, sucking her clit into his mouth. Her thighs shake with it, and outside Xaden’s window, lightning strikes and strikes.

She expects him to pull back, to lay beside her, or pull her astride him, but his face stays, centered between her thighs. His tongue laps at her arousal. He almost seems eager about it.

“Xaden?” she asks. She’s careful about it, because he’s so clearly entranced, she doesn’t want to disturb him.

“Shh,” he tells her, sucking at her sensitive clit hard enough to send her writhing once more. “You’re so wet, Violence. I can’t waste it.”

“Waste it—Xaden,” she moans, uncontrollably, as he uses his tongue to search all of her cunt. He’s acting like he wants to lick up every drop of her. Maybe he does. “Xaden, you’re supposed to fuck me.”

This, somehow, makes him pull back. He smirks, lips shining with her. “Supposed to? Last time I checked, Violence, you weren’t in charge here.”

She can’t help but notice that, while her arousal still burns sharply within her, it’s all her. Tairn seems to be done for the night, which means Sgaeyl should be, too, which means, this new side of Xaden…it’s all him.

She furrows her brow, almost pouting, but not quite. “I wanted to go for a ride, Xaden.”

He blinks, taken aback, if only slightly. “Yeah? If you want to ride me, I think we can compromise.”

He pulls himself back from between her legs, then comes to lay beside her on the bed. He reaches for her hips, and she lets herself be moved willingly. She lands astride him, but she sits before his cock. Her cunt is on top of his lower stomach.

Slowly, she says, “Xaden…”

“Get your come on me,” he orders. “I want you all over my body, Violence. I want my skin to drip with you.”

She knows her eyes blow wide, and her cheeks go pink. Her heart thuds in her ears. “You’re—”

“Of course I’m sure, Violet. Come on. Do you need me to say it clearer?”

Her eyes don’t leave his abs, the rippling muscles. His skin looks like it’ll be hard to the touch, and she can’t resist her desire to find out if it is. She drags a hand down from the space between his pecs to his belly button, and finds every inch of him to be solid. He’s flexing. He has to be flexing, but he’s gorgeous. Statuesque.

She nods.

“Ride my abs, Vi. Here,” he grips her hips. “I’ll help you out. Aren’t I nice?”

With his grip on her, he coaxes out little movements, shifting her hips higher up his stomach, until she’s straddling his waist. His fingers dig into her skin, forcing her to roll her hips. She gasps, a stream of sound leaving her uncontrollably. Her clit rubs up against the trail of hair that goes down, down where she wants to touch him most. The friction is delicious. He’s rough beneath her, where she’s soft.

Again, he pushes on her hips, making them roll. He pulls her higher up his stomach, to where his muscles are more defined. He thrusts up, ever so slightly, and she can feel all of him. His strength is obvious like this, and it’s impossible to ignore just how well crafted every inch of him is.

“I believe,” he begins, coaxing another movement out of her, which only serves to make her moan. “I asked you a question, Violet.”

She nods, eagerly, and takes over the motion of her hips herself. He’s broad enough that it’s not entirely comfortable to straddle him like this, but she’ll do it. If he wants her come all over him she’ll give him that. She slides her core along the center of him. Blissfully, his head falls back onto his pillows. A groan of his own leaves his lips.

“You’re nice,” she promises. “You’re always so good to me, Xaden.”

His hands are still on her hips, even as she moves herself. At her words, he grips her tighter, just for the sake of it. She swivels, just enough to paint more of him in her. Her hands trail his sides, and she sees just how covered he is, and the only thought in her mind is: good. Good. He is hers, undeniably.

“Take care of yourself,” he tells her. “Don’t worry about me.”

She startles, which sends her clit colliding with his skin at a new angle. The burst of pleasure feels somehow more sinful for being incidental. “What do you mean?”

“Use my body to come, Violet. Come on. Get to work, I want to watch the show.”

She stares at him, lips parted, for a moment, but the heat smoldering in his eyes spurs her into action.

“Okay, Xaden,” she says. “Whatever you want.”

She rocks her hips against him, and he stays flexed for her. She can hear the sounds of her come smearing on his skin, and so she knows he can, too, but he loses himself in it. He’s so beautiful, Violet can barely stand it. Half the whimpers that leave her lips are from the sight of him alone. She braces herself with one hand, and with the other, she strokes his cheek, feeling the rough slide of his stubble, the sharp edge of his jaw.

“Xaden,” she begs, “Xaden, I’m close.”

“I know you are,” he whispers. “Take it, Vi. Take what you need.”

One more push of her clit against his skin is all it takes. Her thighs shake with her orgasms, squeezing his sides as she collapses on top of him. With her eyes shut, she misses the flashes of light she knows must paint the sky, but she feels her explosive power all the same. Her head falls beside his on the pillow.

Her thighs can’t seem to stop spasming around him, and so he strokes up and down her spine, soothing and shhing.

“You’re alright, Vi.” His promise is whispered into her hair. “That was perfect. You’re perfect.”

She turns her face just enough to make sure her words aren’t absorbed by his pillow. “So are you.”

He hums, as if he’s thinking about it. “Agree to disagree, Violence. Come here.”

Despite his order, he shifts his grip so that her head can be slotted beneath his chin. The movement sends her entrance towards his cock, laying neglected on his lower stomach. At the feel of it, hot and hard and leaking, she gasps.

“Already ready for more?” he asks. “I wanted to have you ride me, but I think your legs might be too tired.”

She nods, relishing the feel of the crown of her head bumping her chin. She likes it so much—the feeling of every part of her touching a part of him—that she sends her head more firmly into his chin. He chuckles, sliding his fingers to rest between her hair and his skin. His other hand wraps fully around her lower back, securing her to him.

“Yeah?” he asks. “You’re too tired for another, Vi?”

“No,” she counters, emphatically, scrambling to sit up against his chest and meet his eyes. “My legs are too tired to be on top. That doesn’t mean–”

She’s cut off by the sight of his smile. It’s playful, and his eyes are sparkling.

“I’m only teasing,” he tells her. His smile is unshakeable, as is his grip on her. His thumbs stroke her skin. “I’ll take care of you. Let me know when you’re ready.”

She pouts. “I’m ready now, Xaden.”

His brows raise, playfully. He’s not usually unhappy when they’re together, but she doesn’t think she’s ever seen him enjoy himself so blatantly. In the face of his joy, she can’t hold her pout for any longer.

“Yeah?” he asks, but in seconds, he’s flipping them both over and putting her on her back. He slides his hand out from under her skin, and grips both of her thighs, slotting them by her ribcage. “Look at you, baby.”

He rocks back on his heels, taking in her body without care for anything else. She whines, a little sound in the back of her throat, which draws his eyes to meet her own, though they move slowly.

“What?” he asks. “I can’t enjoy the view?”

“You can enjoy fucking me,” she protests. She crosses her arms, huffily, but they land beneath her breasts. She feels the way they bounce, and she watches Xaden’s eyes zero-in on her chest. “Xaden!”

He arches his brow at her, waiting—and she knows what for. She knows what he needs to hear to fuck her, but she wants to give him something else.

She says, “I’ve always wanted to stay.” He opens his mouth to interject, but she forces herself to continue. She needs to say this. He needs to know. “I’ve always wanted to stay for you.”

He whispers, “Violet.”

“I have,” she insists. “Since the first night, I’ve never wanted to leave, but I never had permission to stay.”

He nods. “I know.” It’s as close to an admission of his own unfairness as he’ll allow.

Voice quiet, she continues. “I’ll stay. If you’ll have me, I’ll stay.”

He picks that moment to shift his hips, lining himself up with her entrance, and sinking into her, in one go. Her head rocks against the pillows, and her lips part. Her pleasure is so exquisite, it somehow both grounds her in her body, and takes her out of herself. She feels like she’s floating above them both, watching this thing between them be consecrated by every rock of his hips. She feels everything he does, too. The heat of his body, the way that heat mingles with her skin. She feels his breath meet hers.

He’s moving slowly—so slowly—but he punctuates each word that leaves his lips with a thrust. “I have never wanted anything more than for you to stay, Violet.”

“To stay for you,” she corrects. “It’s important to you, isn’t it? That you’re the reason I’m here.”

He continues his rocking motion. It’s almost comforting, somehow, the rhythmic slide of him into her, the consistency, his reliability. She knows he is there, and she knows he’ll come back

He looks away from her, if only for a second, but Violet won’t have it. She reaches for his cheek and guides his gaze back to her. She feels like a mirror of him, performing the same motions he would. She’s gentler than he is, of course, but he is beckoned by her touch.

“It’s okay,” she murmurs. “I just wanted to know.”

She already does know, really. What she wants is to hear it from his lips.

“Yes,” he admits. “I want you to be here for me.” He smirks, somehow self-depricating. “Selfish, aren’t I?”

She tightens her grip on his jaw. In turn, he holds her thighs tighter, and rocks a little deeper. It takes her a second to find herself amidst this new sensation, but he’s there, waiting for her.

“You get–” she’s cut off by him hitting the perfect spot inside her, forcing her words to turn to moans. It’s a good thing, though. Him doing so makes her realize what she really wants to tell him. “I want you to be selfish with me.”

He stills, deep inside her. “Vi.”

“I do,” she insists. “I want you to have me, Xaden, and I want to have you in return.” His eyes soften, and there’s so much love in his stare, she can’t call it by any other name. She has no choice but to give him the word he’d been looking for all along. “Please?”

He exhales, and she watches his chest shake with it. But within seconds, he’s nodding. “Yes,” he says, already picking up the pace, hips rocking deeper so that more of him meets her clit on each thrust, a taste of the friction he knows she needs. “Have me, Violet. Take me.”

She nods, urgent and eager, shifting on the bed to be closer to him, to take more, as much as he’ll give her. She feels wild with it, her passion for him. So wild, in fact, she almost wants to question if Tairn’s still in her head with his damned mating bond, but she knows that’s not true. It’s not even a possibility. The insanity of her feelings for Xaden is all her own, as it always has been. He’s always been able to reduce her to this, to a thing of want and need.

“More,” she begs. “Please, more.”

He gives her what she wants. He always will. He shifts her hips so that she can take him deeper, and she feels her grip on herself start to slip. He’s so good, so deep inside her, all she can do is let him take over. She reaches for his shoulders and digs her nails into his skin. She sees the way his smile sharpens at that, the evidence of her devolution.

“Do you want to come for me, Vi?” he asks her. He tries to sound controlled, but she hears the way he’s fraying at the edges, run ragged by the feel of her, and she can’t help but wish he’d let that part of him show.

“Do you want to come for me, Xaden?” she counters. She doesn’t sound nearly as controlled as he does, but she knows her attitude makes up for it.

“I’ve wanted to spill myself in you from the very first moment I felt your pussy clench down on me,” he promises. “You take me so well, Vi. Too well. You were made for me and only me. Do you know what that means?”

Rapidly, she shakes her head. She needs him to tell her, but he’s robbed her of speech.

“It means,” he snakes his hand between their bodies to find her clit. At the first touch of that delicious friction, an exclamation leaves her lips. He’s made her scream. “You’re perfect, Violet. So perfect for me. So wet and so soft. Hot. Tight. So fucking good.”

“Good,” she repeats, the one word she can cling to in a sea of pleasure. “Good.”

In complete contrast with the harsh way he thrusts into her, he brings his lips to her forehead. “My good girl,” he swears. “Come for me.”

He uses his thumb on her clit, and his pace is unrelenting, but for good reason. The second she feels the coil of her pleasure snap, she feels him bursting inside of her, too. He goes slack on top of her just as her lightning strikes outside his window, striking the mountaintop as his shadows dart around the room, shielding her.

They stay quiet as their breath evens out. Violet can feel his heart, rioting in his chest. With every beat, it seems to collide with her own skin. They both sweat, and pressed together like this, it’s impossible to tell who has wet her skin.

Once he can breathe again, Xaden pushes up onto his forearms. She watches the lines of his body as he hovers above her, admiring him, until she realizes what he has planned. The second she catches him starting to pull out of her, she reaches for his body, wrapping her arms around his middle to yank him back down to her. He lands with a thud, knocking the air out of her for a moment.

“Vi,” he chastises. “I’m too heavy. I’ll crush you.”

She shakes her head resolutely, though she has to let out a little cough, to clear her airway. “No. I want to keep touching you.”

He sits up just enough to look at her, and he holds her gaze as he slides his cock out of her. She whimpers, but only a little. His eyes and the intimacy in them is almost enough to compensate, especially as he holds her gaze while his hands drift to her center, scooping up his come where it’s leaked onto her thighs, and fucking it back into her.

“You can always touch me,” he promises, between pumps of his fingers. She focuses on the feel of him, claiming her. “I meant what I said. I want you to stay. I want you here, with me.”

“Here,” she agrees, and she means it in every possible sense of the word. “With you.”