Page 26 of Bound in Violet Ink
“I’ve never been wanted forme,” I confess, like cleaning out an old wound. What would that be like? To have a man want my affection because it’smine?
I don’t realize I’m almost lightheaded until he raises a hand to gently grip my jaw, thumb brushing just over my bottom lip, the first physical interaction to suggest somethingmore. His eyes search mine, not for permission because he knows he already has that, but for connection. And gods help me, I give it freely.
Because something inside me is cracking open.
I’ve been locked in rooms and choked by silence. But here, Kane is the male who wrote me letters soaked in longing. He sees me. He seesonlyme.
The space between us lessens, but he doesn’t rush this, like I’ll vanish if he moves too fast.
I meet him halfway.
His lips tentatively brush mine, and when I don’t pull away—when I clutch his arm like a lifeline—he kisses me like it’s a slow, reverent claiming.
And for the first time in my life, I don’t feel stolen.
I feel chosen.
I swear I can sense the starving part of him latching onto the promise of affection that this bond will give, and perhaps we’ve both been starved of the same nourishment despite living very different lives. My lips move with his guidance, his deep groans melting my bones. I may be inexperienced, but I’m not ignorant.I’ve explored my own body, and I know what his mouth and cock can do.
Stiffening slightly when I realize just how far my mind is willing to wander, it’s as if the bond assuages me with the reminder that his scent—all over—will spread fast through rumors.
Oh, the idea of the entirety of the Seelie court realizing who I’ve chosen, after rejecting all of them, is as tantalizing as Kane’s scent. My true identity doesn’t even seem relevant, not if this is the life I choose. I press harder into the kiss, his groan greeting me with approval. Those rough hands roam lower around the small of my back, and the sensation of being within the arms of someone so appealing and dangerous is absolutely feral within my system.
I’m a flower that’s stolen warmth from fading rays of sunshine, and now I’m finally standing out in the middle of a cloudless day to absorb the sun. I smile into the kiss, enamored to know it’sKanewho will deflower me.
My clothes are removed as enigmatically as his—they were once on our bodies, and now they’re piled onto the floor—through an intense exchange of heat, teeth slightly clashing, and his tongue claiming my mouth like a prelude to what he’ll do with my body. An intense high shrouds every bit of common sense. While utterly cocooned in his strength as he holds me close, his cock grazes my belly, and my lower jaw trembles with need. Even if some part of this feels utterly empty due to the lack of knowing him, at least Silas won’t be able to sell me as a prizedvirginanymore.
Kane is quick to change our positions as my balance is off kilter when I tumble back onto the bed, the man standing next to it with a firm and commanding erection. Oh, I never knew just thesightof this could make me come completely undone, knowing its intention is forme.
“You do understand,” he begins, glowering. “That we are bound in ways so archaic that few recall it?” He moves from the side of the bed to the bottom, leaning over to reach forward with those veined, calloused hands to grip my hips, sliding me down so my legs part on either side of him. I gasp at how easy that was for him, waiting for my flesh to collide with his, but it never happens. No, instead, he kneels down, his shoulders the same height as my knees. Rough hands spread my legs further, and it’s the vulnerability in this exposure that breaks through the fog of fucking. “And you will only fuck me as your mate, little flower,notto enrage Silas.”
Perhaps Icanfeel how much he wants this for himself, because he can apparently read my heart as if the words are scrawled between my breasts. I don’t know what to say, and when my legs begin to instinctively close, he parts them open with a force I could never counter. With a force that confusingly sparks more of my arousal. “Do you agree?”
This… this is really happening…
“Yes,” I breathe out with a sinful desire.
“For our binding, not to spite anyone else?” he asks, sliding that massive hand over my inner thigh in almost a caress. “I want tofeelyou mean it. I know you can feel what I want, and I can certainly feel you.”
Feel. Yes… I can actually feel what matters to him. It’s a consideration that exists without effort inside my mind, compartmentalized into Kane.
Your mate, Victoria. For the male whose teeth marks will permanently scar your skin.
“Foryou,” I say, drunk on infatuation.
The idea of pleasing my mate, even ifheis unmarked, is like smoothing out a string that connects us, playing it without friction. He dips his head down, breathing me in. Without hesitation, his tongue deeply presses against me, my moancompletely involuntary as a sensation I’ve never felt streaks through me. The way his hand grips and dips into my thighs brings a pleasure I’ve never known. Every sound I make pushes him to work harder, my fingers spreading out as I want to touch him while the wet heat of his mouth mixes with every sensitive edge… but grabbing him with greed feels foreign, improper.
“Touch me, Victoria,” he growls.
Within seconds, I grip the top of his hand, my lips trembling as a familiar burst of ecstasy rises, brought on completely without any effort on my end.
Your mate is pleasing you.
I whimper.
I whimperagain.
This is happening much faster than when I’m by myself. “Kane,” I moan, still getting used to the sound coming from my mouth.
