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I sigh as I slide deeper into my throne. Memories of Violet falling into bliss on this very chair distract me from the conversation happening around me, the Assembly unwilling to release me back to my room, to my waiting wife.
My wife.
That day is still burned into my brain, the day I lost everything, but still, somehow, kept her.
I can tell she’s pacing, her mind left open to me in a way it hasn't been since long before that day. Every once in a while there’s an inquisitive nudge, a spark of silver tapping at my shadows. I curl them around her, a soft caress in our mental pathway.
I have to stop myself sending my shadows to find her, to hold her, touch her. My own desperation to see her so visceral.
“Riorson,” Suri’s hard voice breaks my thoughts, though I keep my shadows against the wisps of silver in my mind.
I turn to Suri with an unimpressed stare, cocking an eyebrow at her.
“You were asked-”
I don't let her finish, the soft silver encasing me seems to vibrate in laughter. Really she should have been sat at my side, but they had apparently decided that having Violet here wouldn’t be a good idea for the ‘interrogation’. They were probably right. My already short temper certainly wouldn’t have lasted nearly as long with her there, tempting and teasing me. Not that she hadn’t already been doing that for the past five minutes I’d been drowning in this chair.
“I don't give a fuck what you said.” I turn my glare to the rest of the table. “I’ve barely seen my wife since our wedding, and you seem to think I want to be sat here, when I could be taking care of her.”
“I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” Sorrengail - my brother-in-law, I have to remind myself - gives me a hard stare, his eyes narrowing.
I return it with a shrug, lips twitching as I feel Violet’s frustration at her brother’s words.
“Would you like to tell her that, or shall I?” My lips quirk into a cruel smirk. “I’d rather not test how fireproof this room is, but if you want to push…” I trail off as thunder rumbles overhead, the Assembly glances around with uncertainty. “Sounds like my duchess is already waiting.”
“We still don't know about lingering effects, Xaden,” Felix says. He and Brennan are the only ones not scanning the ceiling with a certain wariness.
“Fuck lingering effects,” Violet calls through the bond, “If he thinks you’re not sleeping in our bed tonight, he’ll find out how much a spark can sting.”
Our bed.
It’s been so long since I slept, let alone in a bed, somewhere safe, somewhere warm. Somewhere where she is.
Thunder rumbles again, violent enough to vibrate the table, and I smirk, standing from the throne.
“I assume we’re done here.”
There’s no chance I’m waiting for a response, though I can feel all eyes on my back as I stride from the room, chuckling to myself.
“I fucking l-”
“Don’t,” she stops me quickly and I almost still in surprise. “Not yet.”
“Violence?” I ask hesitantly.
A soft mental caress soothes my thoughts.
“I need to see you.”
I let out a quiet sigh, turning into the corridor to the family rooms. I know what she means, we’ve only seen each other in battle, or in dreams - thank the gods for her signet, I don’t think I’d have survived without it. And then earlier today, when our connection flared hot and tender through my body, whole again like it hadn’t been for what felt like years.
Neither of us had been aware the other was so close, but we’d clearly both felt it, that rightness. She found me soon after, her mind open to mine, her thoughts spilling out of her before she held on so tight, her hair in its usual crown, her lithe legs wrapped around my hips, and I’d been able to press her against me as our lips memorise each other again. But then she’d flinched, pain flaring through the bond, and I reluctantly released her. Brennan came to drag her away to be mended, while others of the Assembly saw to monitoring those of us who had turned, those who had found a way back, thanks to her.
I knock softly on the door, not that I need to, Violet’s skill in finding me through the bond had improved massively in the last year. The door is barely shut behind me when arms wrap around my neck, legs around my hips, and my hands slide under her without hesitation.
“Welcome home,” she whispers, pressing her lips insistently to mine. The silver sparking through our mental pathway settles into something slower, calmer, and I breathe it in, the smell of citrus surrounding me.
Home.
It hits me then, with Violet wrapped up in my arms, in our bedroom, our house. A part of me feels like I could cry. I bury my head into her neck instead breathing her, the scent so perfectly familiar, so completely her.
“You’re okay?” She asks softly. I lift head head slowly, pressing our foreheads together. Her fingers play with the hair at the nape of my neck, and mine move to her braid. The end of her it is almost to her waist, it had grown in our time apart. I ache to release it, to run fingers through it and listen to her pleased reactions.
“I’m okay, Violence.” My eyes linger on her face, taking in every new scar, every new crease, every wound.
“Good,” she responds, releasing her hands from around my neck and pressing her hips into me as her torso falls away. I catch her with my shadows, confused.
It’s why I don’t notice her hand until it’s too late, the flat of her palm connecting solidly with my cheek. I hadn’t realised she wasn’t wearing her ring, but it’s probably a good thing she isn’t. The sting of pain quickly heats my cheek. I release her and she slides to the ground. There’s a hint of something guilty in her eyes, but it’s covered by a painful stab of lingering hurt as her arms wrap around herself in a way my Violet should never look - fragile, almost broken.
“You let me forget,” she breathed out, her pain enveloping my mind the same way it’s surrounded her.
I don’t have any words that can help her. Instead, my hands run slowly down her arms, fingers linking together and I pull her gently forwards, releasing her hands once she’s pressed back against me. She seems to hesitate before wrapping her arms loosely around me, but I slide one hand into her soft hair, gently brushing through it while my other arm wraps tightly around her waist, clinging to her as if she might disappear.
“I’m sorry, Violet.” She will never know how much I mean it. While the memory isn’t a good one - the pain of saying goodbye still feels fresh in my mind - it’s still us, ours, and she gave that up.
“Will you tell me?” she asks. I feel her grip my jacket in a fist and almost breathe a sigh of relief into her hair at the feeling.
“Yes,” I agree easily and some of the tension seems to melt from her shoulders at the confirmation, as if she’d expected me to keep it from her. My hand continues stroking through her hair as I search for words that won’t anger her. “But ask me again tomorrow, if that’s okay.”
I feel her nod against my chest, her head resting above my heart, like she’s making sure I’m actually real, actually alive.
“You stink of soil and sweat,” she grumbles eventually, though she doesn’t pull back.
I let out a soft chuckle: “Your brother wouldn’t let me shower before they dragged me into that ‘interrogation’.”
“Remind me to stab him tomorrow.”
I laugh, I can’t help it, the ease of her threat so her, so perfectly my Violence. It’s a comfort to know that she’s still there, still the same. Not that I’d have expected her to change, but one year of war, of hell, anything could’ve happened.
Her arms release me as she slowly joins in, both of our laughter filling the room, lightening the air to something far more like home.
“Let me shower,” I say, calming down quickly. “I feel like I’ve not slept in a year.” Not since I last slept beside her.
She watches me go with obvious reluctance, a sentiment I agree with, and I don’t quite shut the bathroom door, unwilling to have the physical barrier between us despite the mental connection that’s flaring with emotions.
Still as I step under the scalding water I can feel Violet’s anxiousness. The way she reaches out mentally, like she’s checking I’m still here.
“I’m not about to disappear on you, Violet,” I promise. Not again.
Never again.
I try to make it a quick shower, to get back to Violet quickly. It’s exactly where I want to be too. But the dried blood is difficult to scratch off, and mud seems to have ingrained into my skin, delaying me further.
I finally step out, towel slung low on my hips and thick steam escapes the room. Despite the towel drying I attempted, my hair sticks to my face, falling frustratingly into my eyes. I don’t get the chance to push it away though, Violet’s hands are there, pushing it up my head even though it consistently flops down again - I laugh when I realise she’s standing on the bed to reach, and sit next to her at the edge of the bed. She’s already moving before my hands get there, but I grip her hips gently to guide her into my lap, uncaring of the way the towel parts, desperate to have her close.
She falls willingly, legs on either side of my own, and soft hands skate up my shoulders, my neck, up to my cheeks. They’re still there, cupping my face, holding me in place as she presses a slow kiss against my lips.
It’s reverent, worshipful, something I know I don't deserve but willingly take from her anyway, and when she pulls back again, there’s disbelief shining in her hazel eyes. The pads of her thumb scrape soothingly under my eyes as they flutter shut.
“Open them,” she orders softly. Her eyes dart between mine for a moment as I obey. “They’re gold,” she breathes, her gaze brimming with unshed tears. Her lips tremble over the words as though speaking it might break the spell. “They’re gold,” she whispers again, wonder filling her voice.
“Technically they’re black, Violence,” I tease with a grin.
“Asshole.” She rolls her eyes, though her thumbs don’t stop their movements.
A short silence falls between us, Violet’s hands trail through my hair, nails scratching my scalp. She looks proud of the low noise that escapes me.
“Kiss me,” she demands, eyes challenging me to disobey - she should know me better than that.
I carefully pull out the band keeping her hair together, separating the braid with short movements - Violet shaking her head to help. I give up particularly quickly due to Violet’s hands mapping my body, and dig my fingers into the still tightly wound hair at the back of her head, directing her face towards me. There’s little softness to the press of lips, urgency obvious for both of us.
As the kiss deepens, she lets my tongue explore her mouth, remembering the feel, the taste. Everything’s as soft as I remember, and yet harder than it was. I pull her tighter, enjoying the feel of her pressed into me. Her chest rises to meet mine as we breathe.
She moves a hand to my towel, undoing the already loose tie in it and pushing it to the side, and gently drags her nails across the V of my hips. Agonisingly slowly, her fingers wrap around me, my cock standing proud between us as she moves her hand in a rhythm that’s far too slow and yet maddeningly perfect.
It’s almost embarrassing how hard I am already. The pressure from her body is exquisite, a perfect, agonising torture. It had been a year of dreams being the best relief I could find, even though I knew exactly where she was, but I could endure this torture for a little longer, for her.
“Fuck, Violence,” I groan as our lips fall away, my head tips back as her thumb traces over the head, and I attempt a few steadying breaths, bringing my attention back to her, my duchess. Where it should be.
My fingers tug firmly in her hair, her head falling sideways with the motion, and I trail my lips down her jaw, and to the soft exposed skin of her neck, where she was always sensitive before. I’m relieved to notice that hasn’t changed when she lets out a soft gasp as my teeth scrape against her neck.
I follow a trail down her neck, to her collarbone, where her nightdress hangs low on her chest. The Deverelli silk is soft beneath my fingers, though I know it pales compared to the body underneath.
As if she catches my thought, Violet shifts almost impatiently, the silk gathering at her hips, and I slide my hand underneath to grip her hips, stilling her and chuckle at her pout.
“You owe me a wedding night, Riorson.” I’m so tempted to reclaim her mouth, to draw that stuck out bottom lip between my own.
“Of course, Mrs. Riorson,” I don’t miss the hitch in her breath or the way her eyes flutter closed. “But just one?” I smirk as my fingers glide to her bare thighs, tracing soft circles into her skin.
Her eyes reopen, green-hazel gaze locked on me as she cocks a brow, staring me down in a way only my Violet can. “At least one.”
I don’t wait for further negotiation. My hands slip around her thighs, to the soft, firm curve of her ass, gripping her tight as I shift my hips and press her down. She lets out a sudden, surprised gasp against my ear.
Violet responds to my movement, her hands gripping my shoulders as she grinds down herself. I can feel every movement as her heat presses against me, sliding around me before it’s cruelly withdrawn, and then returned with just as much fervor.
“Fuck it,” I hiss, sliding my hands along her back, pushing her nightdress up and up until she ducks her head out and I throw it to the ground somewhere behind her. Violet shivers when my hands slide back down her back and sides, and round to her stomach. Her muscles have grown in the year away, her body, still just as beautiful, as perfect, was more lined than it had been.
I quickly loosen the towel at my hips before linking my hands behind her ass again, and stand to spin on the spot, falling quickly back onto the bed, Violet settling perfectly beneath me. My mouth descends to her breasts, closing over her hard nipple and she presses her chest up into my mouth with a moan as my teeth softly press into her. Her hands slide back into my damp hair, and the scrape of her nails along my scalp sends a jolt to my cock.
As I slide further down, I force my body not to grind down, knowing the coarse bedsheets are not going to feel as good as sinking into her if I’m patient enough. If I can wait just a bit longer for the wet heat I’m desperate for.
My mouth slides up the softness of her thighs, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. I want to take my time with her like this, to remind her of every part of us. I lick my lips as my eyes focus on the spot between her thighs, and I shift Violet’s legs apart, my tongue darting out to glide between her folds. Her hips buck, pressing my face closer, and I moan against her skin as the divine taste of her fills my mouth.
Her hands slide into my hair as I continue to tease her, spreading her wetness around with my tongue. My fingers grip her hips tightly, though I try not to bruise. I could spend forever between her legs, looking up over her perfect body, finally able to taste, to ravish.
The arch of her back and soft gasping moans tell me she’s close - and gods is she beautiful like this, ready to come apart just for me. I give her what I know she needs, my tongue flicking persistently at her clit. Her fingers tug roughly at my hair, and I need her to always moan my name the way she does when my mouth closes around her, and her body shatters for me. Lightning flashes in the sky, her conduit forgotten on the bedside table. I feel a swell of satisfaction that, despite everything, I can still make her lose control in the most breathtaking way.
Her eyes flutter shut, lips parted as she breathes heavily, and I don’t stop until she’s oversensitive and whining, giving one last stroke of my tongue, savouring her. Her hands release my hair, giving me the option to move away - not that I particularly want to. “That’s one,” I say breathlessly, smirking as I lick my lips.
I shift back upwards, trailing kisses up her body as my hand skims over her stomach and thigh. My fingers dip between her legs, replacing where my mouth had been. Violet’s body shudders with every touch.
Our mouths connect as my first finger easily slides into her, and Violet matches my rhythm as I thrust it into her. Pressing in a second finger has Violet’s back arching, pressing her shoulders back into the pillows even as her lips chase mine. Our tongues clash together as my fingers move, and she cries out as my thumb scrapes through her folds, easily finding her clit and pressing against it.
“More, Xaden,” she keens, tipping her hips up to change the angle with a moan. Each movement of my hand nudges the sensitive spot and my fingers curl inside her, pressing that spot she loves. A third finger edges in, stretching her out.
My lips nip at her neck, sucking the salty skin into my mouth and laving it with my tongue as she quivers beneath me, and those perfect sounds of her desperation fall from her lips as I twist my fingers inside her. She pulls me into another sloppy kiss as thunder rumbles, and lightning flashes again, brightening the sky as I feel her clench around my fingers.
I withdraw them slowly, enjoying the sensitive shudder that shakes her lips against mine. “Two,” I tease.
Violet’s lips quirk against mine and I almost jump when her fingers wrap back around my cock - I hadn’t realised she’d moved them from the bedsheets. My head falls forward at the feeling, hair tickling her chest. The soft callouses of her hand provide a friction that quickly has me panting, desire laying thick in my stomach as her hand slides along me. I can’t resist a steady thrust back into her hand, the tip sliding against her thighs with each sweet, torturous movement.
“Violet, love, stop, please,” I say, biting back a moan as she slightly tightens her fist and twists on the next pump of her hands. I reach between us, grabbing her wrist to stop her. “I’m not going to last if you do that, love,” I breathe against her skin, forehead resting against her shoulder as I try to claim some control over my body.
But I can’t. I debate having her in my lap, sitting over my hips - or mouth - but she presses her hips up to mine, her hot wet core sliding against my cock and with a low grunt I push myself back, releasing her wrist only to grab her hips. Her eyes widen in surprise from the sudden shift, but I hover over her for a moment longer, nudging my cock over her arousal. Her hands grip my shoulders, nails digging painfully into my skin as I press slowly into her. Her back arches immediately, hips tilting to take me further. Violet’s mouth falls open, soft moans spilling from her as I press in, revelling in the searing heat.
I lean down to kiss her as our hips press together, and Violet barely gives herself time to adjust before she’s rolling her hips, drawing out groans from me. I pull almost fully out before snapping my hips back against hers in retaliation, setting a rough pace that has both our mouths hanging open, just breathing into each other. The only sound in the room is the slap of skin on skin and the ragged sound of our breathing.
Shifting her legs to change the angle, Violet gasps, her eyes clenching shut.
“Let go, Violet,” I rasp out. “Let go.”
“N-n-no,” she stutters, eyes clenched shut. “Not y-yet.”
And I understand. “Open your eyes, love.” I say watching her dark eyes half open as I swap to the bond. “I’m not going anywhere, love. I’m here. Let go.”
I dip my fingers back between our bodies, her eyes sparkle as she shatters, clenching around me. I have every intention of seeing the blissed out look on her face, to see her head roll back, neck and body bared for me to see, but the heavenly feeling tips me over straight after her. The sudden, all-consuming pleasure rips through the last shred of my control.
I don’t see the flash of lightning, shadows rush out of me, a violent, desperate release that smothers the air and pitches us into darkness. I feel Violet relax against the cooling sensation of the shadows encasing her, and she pulls me closer, until my body falls against hers. I try to push off, to not completely crush her, but Violet clings to my body, arms and legs wrapped tight around me, holding me in place, or holding herself in place against me.
“Three,” I say, drawing my shadows back in as my breathing returns to normal. Violet’s body is still clenching around my softening cock - it’ll probably be at least semi-hard again before I pull out.
“Fuck, I missed you,” I breathe into Violet’s hair, placing tender kisses over her cheekbones.
“Don’t stay away so long next time,” she grumbles, shivering despite the heat of my body against hers. It’s what finally makes me slide out, Violet protesting sleepily. She reaches for me immediately, and I grasp her hands, pressing kisses to each of them.
“No one, and nothing, will keep me away from you again, my love,” I promise, meaning every word. If she can’t come with me, I’m not going. “Let me clean up,” I whisper to her, “then I’ll come to bed.”
She lets me go, and I bring a warm wash cloth out to clean Violet, who whimpers at the scrape of fabric despite my gentleness.
When I climb into bed, resting on my side, I pull Violet against me, her back to my chest, and let out a satisfied exhale into her hair when she shuffles closer, every part of her body pressing against some part of mine. I wrap an arm around her waist, resting the hand on her stomach, and she laces her fingers with mine. My other arm - the one running beneath the pillow - was already prickling with pins and needles, but I didn’t care, the heavy weight of her head on my bicep more than enough reason to stay there.
I can’t stop myself pressing a few small kisses into her hair. There’s so much more to work through, so much that’s happened in the past year, but with her back in my arms, I can forget it, just for tonight. “I love you,” I murmur, her hair fluttering under my breath.
She lets out a quiet sigh, twisting her head towards me, and I brush a kiss to her temple, her half lidded eyes watching me with a soft smile. “I love you too.”
Her breathing evens out before mine, and I breathe her in, knowing how lucky I am to have her back in my arms again.