Page 159 of Violet

“Thank you,” he whispers. “For this.”

I know exactly what he means. For forgiving him, for giving him another chance. But the thing is, he’s done everything to keep proving himself, winning my trust over and over, and I’m… I love him. So much.

Tugging at his scruff, I grin. “You mean picking apartyour plot holes and the long speeches you give the character that’s clearly you?”

“Please, Princess. If I gave this script to Rue, she’d love it.”

“Rue’s fourteen and addicted to terrible movies. There’s this Alpha starring in them. Asher St. James? He’s awful.”

“And yet you have posters of him in your bedroom.” He bites my neck, nipping hard at the skin.

My gaze goes to the mating ceremony photo of us, our second one where it was just us and family. No fuss, no Queen Bee.

It was just perfect.

“But I’m already taken. I have this guy. A little scruffy and arrogant. I feel bad for him because he worships me.”

“The ground you walk on, Princess. Every fucking spot. And he’s a jealous fucker, too.”

“I love him, though. He grows on me.”

“Does he?”

I laugh and burrow into his neck, breathing in that oak scent that riles excitement and calms nerves. That scent is also one of coming home, always and forever.

Stephan gets to see the side of me that only my family’s seen, the one who existed before the responsibilities of the Season. Before Dad’s death.

Stephan takes my hand, kissing my palm. “Tell me again how you put the battle-ax in her place. It really gets me going.”

I laugh. “I’ve already told you a hundred times.”

“Yeah, but Rue tells me you were like ‘O.M.G.,Monarch. You need to leave me and my mate alone and mind your own business’.”

“That is scarily good.”

“I know.”

I lean up on him, half across his chest. “I blame you if the script isn’t ready for the meeting next month. I really don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I know,” Stephan says. “You’re harsh about it. But a natural. Do you know how pleased people are with that trash one you fixed in days?” He shakes his head. “I think we’ll be fine. Besides, I’ve got some things on my mind right now.”

“Like?”

“This,” he says. And then he begins to kiss his way along my body. Stephan pushes up my T-shirt—well, his T-shirt really—and starts to suck and lick at my nipples. I moan. “My princess…”

Another moan breaks free as he doesn’t stop, as the pull of his mouth on my flesh sends darts of desire south, and I start getting wet, real fast.

Deep between my thighs I’m beginning to throb with need.

My heart squeezes as he kisses lower, one hand stroking over my pussy. He slides his hand in, fingers brushing down over my clit and then through the wetness, along my slit, working me, parting me. I lift my hips to him, happy to have my blow job that morning returned in such enthusiastic and measured ways.

He does that, balances the two, and it makes it all the more thrilling when he loses his control and knots in me. That pleasure…that’s something else yet again. But when his mouth comes down on my clit and pussy, I lose my mind.

He kisses down lower then pulls my panties off and starts to lick and suck me. “So fucking hot, Princess. So good of you to keep your pussy wet just for me. Wet and delicious.”

He laps at me and then slides his fingers in, stretching me.

I know his game. He likes to start out gentle, and then tease me to the ends of sanity with slow, soft, meandering thrusts, until he bites down on my clit and makes me come, screaming.

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