Chapter 278: Made Love....

And yes, first of all, Violet needed air. So she broke away from the long, dirty kiss that had her so wet her panties had practically melted off.

Breathless, she took one good look at Asher. The soft glow of the lamp highlighted his features, making him look more handsome, more mysterious, like one of those ancient gods who descended to earth just to ruin women in myth and legend.

Asher was staring back at her with awe and wonder. But that wasn’t all there was. There was lust — thick, heavy, and darkening his eyes with an intensity that made her already pounding heart nearly combust. She could feel him too. Hard as stone beneath her, and throbbing for action.

And action it would get tonight.

Violet leaned in again, this time kissing along his neck. Once. Twice. She then trailed lower, down to his chest, the part of his body that carried the aftermath of his pain. His scars.

Henry had been cunning by choosing to hurt Asher in places that weren’t easily seen unless his shirt came off. His back was worse, crisscrossed with lash marks and wounds no child should ever bear. But Violet couldn’t reach his back in her current position, so she gave tender, reverent attention to his front.

Werewolves weren’t supposed to scar, not with their fast metabolism which always assured healing was complete. Which meant only one thing could leave behind wounds that deep.

Silver.

Violet didn’t need confirmation, she just knew it. Henry must have escalated his cruelty after Maria’s death. When Asher was younger, he obeyed blindly. But teenage age came with rebellion and the sick, insecure and controlling Henry must have found new, crueler ways to bend him back into submission.

The thought of that monster hurting him made Violet’s heart splinter. So she did the only thing she could. She kissed each scar one by one with trembling lips and devotion. She scoured his body with the kind of attention she wished someone had given him all those years ago. And even the smallest mark didn’t escape her touch.

Asher growled his satisfaction, one that made her heart leapt in response, thrilled and undone.

Violet leaned back and, in one fluid motion, grabbed the hem of her nightgown and pulled it over her head, her breasts bouncing from the effort. Asher let out a low, animalistic growl, his grip around her waist tightening to a bruising hold.

Violet smirked, already reaching for the band of his pants only for Asher to hiss, "What are you doing?!" He caught her hands mid-motion, stopping her instantly.

Violet furrowed her brows, stunned. Had she misread the moment? But that didn’t seem to be the case. In fact, the raw hunger in Asher’s eyes made her breath hitch. He looked like he wanted to devour her completely, and without mercy. She could feel the tension in him, coiled tight like he was holding himself back by sheer will.

Then it hit her. Oh, this was a game. One the puppet master must enjoy immensely. A sly smile tugged at Violet’s lips. Fine. She’d play along.

"What do you think?" she purred, her voice sultry, rolling her hips slowly over the hard outline of him.

"Violet." Asher warned, her name coming out low, rough, like it cost him something to say it. "Stop."

Violet’s smile faltered.

She frowned, voice tinged with vulnerability. "I don’t understand. Don’t you want this? Or..." her voice dropped, quieter now, "don’t you want me?"

She could feel the desperation creeping into her chest, the fear that maybe, just maybe, she was alone in this. But that didn’t make sense. She could feel how much he ached for her. So why was he pulling away?

"Of course I want you, my purple queen with every fiber of my being. Every breath I take," Asher said with ferocity, grinding into her to make his point. Violet moaned. Both of them were down to their underwear, the flimsy barriers practically nonexistent between them. They could feel each other. Every throbbing inch.

"Then why?" Violet whispered, her golden eyes searching his.

Asher reached out and cupped her face with a tenderness that contrasted the fire in his eyes. "I told you before. When I take you, it’ll be because you offered yourself. Because you begged for me." His words were like silky seduction wrapping down her spine slowly.

"I’m begging now," Violet protested, voice cracking with need. She ached for him like he was life itself.

"No." Asher shook his head stubbornly.

"Asher!" Violet was fed up with the teasing. She made a move to touch him only that Asher was faster and caught her wrist in a firm grip.

"You’re not free from my manipulation," he said tightly. "I brought you here, Violet. Who’s to say you’re not acting under the influence of my power?"

He pulled her closer, his voice dropping into a dangerous rasp. "Let it never be said that I was cowardly enough to make you mine through my powers."

Then he leaned in, mouth brushing a hot trail toward her ear. And with a whisper so dark and filthy it made her toes curl, he said, "When it’s time to have you, Violet Purple, you won’t be begging for more—you’ll be begging me to stop. Because I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t know your right from your left, won’t know where your pleasure ends and mine begins. You won’t leave my bed, at least not for a week. And if there’s anything you should fear, love, it’s me putting a babe in you. Because there’s not an inch of you I won’t claim."

Violet whimpered at the intensity of that dark promise. Those words should have scared her, but instead, they only aroused her, her nipples aching, her core pulsing with need. Asher didn’t just speak; he made love with his words.

"What about now?" she breathed with desperation at the edges of her voice.

Asher caught the meaning instantly. His eyes darkened with delight, and his lips curved into that dangerously wicked smile he was known for. "Then let’s leave tomorrow’s matters for another time," his voice dipped lower, "and take care of tonight."

Before she knew it, Asher gripped her waist and moved her slowly—almost torturously—over him. Her breath hitched, eyes widening at the deliberate gesture.

Asher smirked, saying in a rough voice, "You might want to hold on, love. This ride’s going to be anything but gentle."

Violet didn’t need to be told twice. She wrapped her arms around him, her breath catching in quick, shallow gasps as Asher picked up the pace, guiding her body with a rhythm that stole her sanity.

She was so wet, the friction sparked through her nerves, every movement delicious and sinfully wanton. Violet moaned aloud. It felt so good.

Then Asher’s hand found her breast, gripping, fondling, rolling her nipple between his fingers while his hips bucked harder, deeper, with a relentless rhythm that turned her bones to ash.

"God, I think I’m going to come!" Violet cried out, stars bursting at the edges of her vision.

"Then come for me, my little purple queen," Asher commanded, "Break for your king."

Maybe it was his filthy words. Maybe it was the maddening rhythm of their friction, or the way his fingers tormented her nipples like he was sculpting pleasure into her skin, but the orgasm hit her like a crashing wave.

Violet shattered, grabbing Asher’s face and kissing him fiercely, letting him devour the sound of her pleasure like it was his final meal.