I moaned in his mouth.
His hands moved to my ass, and then he was tugging my silk shorts down to my ankles again, and I was helping him.
Because for the first time since Breaker’s death, I didn’t feel like I was dying inside. I felt like Valerian was giving me something.
I had no idea what.
But it felt good.
For a few brief moments, the numbness and rage subsided—all I had was pleasure, his, mine, and as selfish as it was to just take—I did exactly that. I did what Valerian had done a year ago.
He offered.
And I took.
And I felt zero guilt as I blindly reached for his pants. He was wearing dress slacks again—probably black. He always dressed so perfectly, so professionally, that it was maddening.
I flicked open the button and then needed two hands as I slid down the zipper and gripped his length in one hand. He was rock hard, pulsing in my palm.
“Fuck.” The word exploded from him as he pulled his mouth away from mine. “I can’t decide if I’m terrified you’re going to pull a knife on me again or actually do what I’ve been dreaming of for weeks.”
“Weeks?” I deadpanned.
“Weeks.” He confirmed. “Trust me when I say in my mind it’s been weeks since I’ve had this touch, weeks since I’ve smelled this skin, years since I’ve felt this. Damn, you drive me insane.”
There was something very powerful about holding him prisoner, about the way his body responded.
I wanted a moment.
Just one moment of pure bliss with no sadness.
He hovered over me while I kicked down his pants, and then he was taking off his shirt. I raked my nails down his chest feeling a massive tattoo there.
“What am I touching?” I asked as he jerked me against him, his cock between my thighs so close my body wept.
“A tattoo,” he finally said. “My lie.”
“Your lie,” I repeated. “Will your lie ruin me?”
“Without a doubt.” He was out of breath. “It’s why I need you now.”
“Ask.”
I couldn’t see him, but I could almost imagine his stupefied look as he stared down at me.
“Ask me for it.”
“You.” His voice shook. “Please, Violet, can I have you? Don’t promise me forever, just promise me now, and I swear I’ll give you everything I have right now. It’s your turn to take, Violet, so take.”
I gripped him and led him to where I wanted him most. And as he slid home, I shut down all thoughts of death and only focused on his slow thrust inside my body, followed by another and then stillness as he circled his hips, hitting me exactly where I needed him.
A small cry slipped out as a tear trailed down my cheek.
Not Breaker, remember it’s not Breaker.
“Violet…” He growled my name, his mouth on mine, our breathing in sync as we moved together. “Mine.”
He slid a hand between us, I cried out in pure pleasure as he deepened his thrusts, and then I was flying.
I was in heaven.
I was with Breaker.
My eyes flashed open, but all I saw was black because of the damn blindfold. I went completely still as he rolled over and lay down next to me.
“How old are you?” I asked.
“Old enough.” His answer.
“The girl… what was her name?”
“So, I don’t get to catch my breath? All right,” he said, more to himself. “And I can’t remember.”
“Are you a liar?”
“Yes.”
I rolled my eyes, and then I reached for him again, my hands running over his face, digging into his hair. It wasn’t him, but for a minute, I just—my soul recognized something.
My heart was screaming in my chest, beating against my body.
My pulse was erratic, I could feel my sanity slipping again.
“Did you have anything to do with his death?” I asked a second time like I had the night before.
“Don’t ask questions you don’t want the answer to, Violet.” He sighed and pulled away from me. “Until tomorrow.”
“Until tomorrow,” I said back.
The minute the door clicked shut, I pulled off my blindfold and searched the room, not certain what it was I sought. My sanity maybe, but something was off, right? Something wasn’t right, I could have sworn in those few moments, I could have sworn he was here with me.
I’d felt him.
Tears filled my eyes. I had fucking felt him!
Sleep didn’t come, and I knew it would be a long time before it did as I stared at the picture on my cell phone.
Green eyes.
Reddish-brown hair with shots of gold.
Perfect smile.
Strong jaw.
Something wasn’t right, but it wasn’t wrong either. Was I just in another stage of grief, imagining him when he was gone?
I was literally going to attend his funeral in a few days.
With a last shake of my head, I tossed my phone away, then thought again, grabbed it, and sent a text.
Violet: I will miss you forever. I love you.