How was she doing it? How was she uncovering all these things inside him he was sure he'd cut out long ago?
He had no idea, it didn't make sense, and he was still so fucking angry. But he couldn't hurt her and because he couldn't hurt her, there was only one thing he could do.
He kissed her smart, stubborn mouth again. Harder, deeper. Pouring all his anger into her, all his grief, making her take it. And she didn't flinch. Her lips parted and let him in, her mouth hot and soft and generous, accepting everything he gave her. Taking all that rage and turning it into something else, heat and hunger and need.
She was an alchemist. A witch. She worked magic and he should have been hurling her from him, but all he wanted was to pull her close. Lose himself in her the way he'd been denying himself for so many years.
So he did.
Breaking the kiss, he released her so he could drag that silky green top of hers up and over her head. Violet didn't protest, and she didn't say a word when he reached around her to jerk open the catch of the complicated arrangement of straps and black lace that was her bra. Then that fell away and those small, perfect tits with the pretty pink nipples he'd traced with his thumb were bare before his gaze.
But he didn't stop to look because that wasn't all he wanted.
With a sharp movement, he jerked the expensive leather pants she'd made him buy down her legs, taking the lacy black panties with it. Then he dropped to his knees in front of her, pulling them all the way down and helping her step out of them.
She was naked now, nothing between him and all that silky, bare skin, and he couldn't tear his gaze away. Pretty ankles and long, elegant calves. Soft thighs perfectly framing the golden curls between them. The curve of her hips and the graceful indentation of her waist … so utterly feminine. Reminding him of everything he'd been missing for such a long time.
She stood there motionless, and he could hear the sound of her quickened breathing, watching as goose bumps rose all over that golden skin. He leaned forward and placed his hands behind her ankles, running his palms up the backs of her calves to her knees, then up to her thighs, spreading his fingers out to touch as much as he could of all that warm, smooth bare flesh.
She trembled, her breath catching sharply.
He looked up at her, his palms resting on the swell of her buttocks, the heat of her soaking into his palms, turquoise eyes meeting his, dark with the same hunger that burned inside of him.
"See?" Her voice was roughened and hoarse. "You can't do it, can you? I told you so." She sounded so confident. Like she knew him. Yet another fucking challenge.
She doesn't know you. She would run from you if she did.
Hell, she'd already done that, hadn't she? She'd run from him just before, only to let herself be taken by him when he'd caught her.
Gently he squeezed the soft flesh in his hands, watching as her pupils dilated, lips parting in a soundless gasp. The heat of her pussy was right there and he could smell her arousal, the musky spicy scent making his mouth water. Christ, he was so hungry. It had been a long, long time since he'd tasted a woman.
He couldn't hurt her, she was right about that. But it didn't mean he couldn't make her scream.
"You don't know me, princess," he said, low and hard. "You know nothing at all." And he squeezed those soft buttocks, sinking his fingers into her flesh, drawing a shuddering sound from her as he pulled her in close.
Then he bent his head, nuzzling between her thighs, inhaling the scent of musk and woman, feeling another tremble go through her. Yeah, he was going to make her scream, make her understand that she couldn't fuck with him. That her touch didn't make him feel things he'd thought long dead. That she didn't get to him the way she did, not at all.
He was the one who had the power here. He was the one in charge.
His hands tightened on her butt and he covered that pretty little pussy of hers with his mouth.
Violet went stiff in his hands, a raw sound escaping from her.
Fuck, yes. That's what he wanted to hear.
He licked her, running his tongue up the entire length of her sex then circling her clit in a light, easy stroke, feeling her shudder. God, the taste of her, salty and sweet at the same time, and so fucking delicious. It had been so long since he'd had this. So goddamn long.
He circled her hard little clit with his tongue again, teasing her, listening for that raw sound again and hearing it like a reward, all low and hoarse and desperate. So he did it once more, flicking with his tongue before running it back down the silky, wet folds of her pussy, finding the entrance to her body and pushing deep inside.
She gave a choked cry, her hands landing on his shoulders as if for balance, the weight of her body suddenly sagging against him. "Elijah … God … "
He pushed his tongue deeper, moving one hand from her butt around to stroke her clit with his thumb before parting her wet flesh with his fingers, allowing him greater access.
She began to tremble, the sound of her ragged breathing echoing in the apartment, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "Oh … I can't … slow down … "
But he didn't, because he wasn't going to do what she said. She was the one who'd pushed him into this, which meant she had to deal with the consequences.
He was going to make her wish she'd let him stay with the punching bag.
Spreading her with his fingers, he licked her, using his tongue to fuck her while his fingers stroked and teased the tender nub of flesh between her thighs, pinching it hard, making her give hoarse little sobs in his ear. Her body tensed, her hips trembling between his hands, and he kept going, kept pushing her because she never stopped pushing him.
"Elijah, please … I can't … "
The desperation in her husky voice only goaded him on, because, yes, he wanted her begging. He wanted her at his mercy, and if he couldn't get it through fear, he'd get it through pleasure. She'd been going to use sex to get what she wanted from him after all.
"You're not doing this to me again, princess," he growled against her wet, salty flesh. "You're not manipulating any more fucking confessions out of me. I keep telling you I'm not a toy you can play with. It's about time you learned exactly who you're taking on."
Lifting his head, he shifted his grip on her, sliding two fingers into all that tight, wet heat. Then he leaned in again, running his tongue in slow, deliberate circles around the hard bud of her clit.
Violet gave a low moan. "Oh … fuck … " Her nails were almost drawing blood on his shoulders, her inner muscles tight around his fingers as he slid them slowly in and out of her. "I don't … Elijah … "
"I want you to scream," he murmured. "I want you to scream and scream hard." And he pushed his fingers deep, licking her over and over, relentless. Showing her no mercy. Until she gave him the ragged scream he'd wanted, and her whole body shook, her pussy clenching hard around his fingers.
The scent of sex filled his nostrils, the taste of her in his mouth. She was panting, leaning against him as if she'd collapse if he wasn't there. And it should have made him satisfied that he'd gotten that from her, a surrender of sorts. Yet he wasn't satisfied. He felt just as hungry and desperate and angry as he had when she'd first touched his face.
Easing her away from him, he straightened and rose to his feet. Then he picked her up in his arms. She'd gone all soft and relaxed, her face flushed, her expression dazed, one hand rising to touch his chest. And he didn't know why he wanted to hold her, not when he was still so furious.
Turning, he carried her over to the sofa and laid her down on it, but instead of walking away, he found himself spreading her thighs and settling himself between them, the heat of her pussy pressed against his hard, aching cock. Then he put his palms down on either side of her head, bracing himself so his full weight wasn't resting on her, looking down into her face.
It felt good to have her naked and exposed and vulnerable while he was fully clothed, good to have her under him, smooth and warm just waiting for the touch of his hand. At his mercy completely.
Desire gripped him tight, like it had earlier that day in the alleyway, his dick in no way satisfied by that brief encounter. Fuck, she was so soft, her body giving beneath his, accommodating him, making him so very aware of everything he'd been missing.
He bent his head to her neck, turning his face against her throat and inhaling the musky, feminine scent of aroused woman. Then he licked her, the salty-sweet taste of her skin going straight to his head.
She shivered in response, her body shifting under his, her hips moving, rubbing that hot little pussy of hers against his jeans, leaving him in no doubt that despite what he'd just done to her, she was as hungry as he was.