Gypsy Moon (Page 45)
But it’s the way he draws me closer, like he can’t possibly get enough and I’m the best thing he’s ever experienced…
How can I not love every moment of it?
For the briefest moment, I break my mother’s rules, just so I can enjoy a moment of pleasure in the chaos, and I allow myself to feel like a complicated monster too.
My nails slide up his back, as my legs wind around his waist, and he makes some noise that has me angling my neck more. He tears his mouth away, staring down at me, as his body moves over mine, caging me in so closely that there’s no mistaking I can’t get away.
My eyes roll back in my head when my orgasm crashes through me with no preamble or build, just hammered right the hell out of me in bone-shattering shock.
A stuttered breath escapes me, and Arion curses under his, before he groans, suddenly stilling inside me. It doesn’t take me but a split second to realize mine must have triggered his, as he shakes his head and curses next to my ear.
His head lifts, and half-lidded eyes find mine with…an unexpected amount of surprise and intensity, his grip on me tightening very subtly, as he holds me closer instead of moving away.
His gaze dips, taking in our bodies, and for a very alarming second, I almost worry salt is going to spray out of him, because he almost looks…lost and…something else. He seems to tilt his head like he’s studying me, and just as I open my mouth to speak, he’s kissing me again.
I moan into his mouth when I feel his hips rocking once again, already growing inside me like…it’s been a thousand years…
Not overthinking. Just being a monster.
My hands move up into his hair, and he turns us, bringing me down on top of him, as we start all over again.
CHAPTER 22
EMIT
My eyes land on Arion, and my jaw grinds when I see Violet curled across his front, mostly lying on top of him. The son of a bitch grins at me immediately, while he absently traces circles on her bare back.
The sheet starts at the dip of her ass, and it stops again on the backs of her thighs, as though she wanted only a little modesty as she fell asleep on that psychotic son of a bitch.
Weirdly, there’s a ring of salt around the bed, and Violet is wearing her red boots with rubber soles. Only her red boots, it seems.
“Was this a command of yours?” I ask him conversationally, not wanting to put him on the defense…but already things look suspicious.
“No. I’ve told you from the very beginning that she’d be mine the first time I had her alone. She’s been mine for quite some time, but she likes to push back when she can, reminding us she’s not to be stepped on,” he states like he has the keys to the universe. “She had me worried I was wrong. Touch and go for a moment there.”
It’s them who are the idiots. You don’t get great insight on her after sex. You just think you do.
Because when Violet feels anything too intensely, you get a punch of those emotions. Since learning she carries empathic traits, more and more has made sense.
It’s hard to put the pieces together when you don’t even know what questions you should be asking.
Her emotions weave through your mind with a better high than her gypsy spice, bringing a serene, subtly addictive calm amidst the never-ending madness.
“She’s a very affectionate, sound sleeper…and so trusting,” he murmurs, brushing her hair way from her throat. “A man could grow quite adjusted to this with ease,” he goes on, staring down at her as he drags her leg up on his hip, the cover sliding just a bit higher, as Damien steps into the room beside me.
Violet sighs contently in her sleep, unconsciously wiggling herself even closer to him. His smile only grows, as his eyes meet mine.
“What’s with the salt and the boots?” Damien asks, addressing the only other unusual thing we can spot.
“Dead ghosts made for a good safety ring,” Arion says, gesturing toward the lightning streaking outside. “Violet doesn’t want to be struck again.”
Now it makes sense, and I hate him more, because I can’t help but wonder if he’s genius enough to show foresight to such detail…if that’s really Idun and not Violet.
“Maybe it’s nothing unique to you disloyal prats who stick it in anything with a pretty face, despite your promises, but I’ve never had such a delicate thing in my possession,” he goes on, grin only growing.
“It smells like sex, but I’ve mistaken your bullshit for truth in the past. You and Idun played this game already once before on us,” Damien says, casually looking around as he steps farther into the room.
Vance pushes between us, furious as he shoves the wet hair out of his face, breathing heavily, as his jaw grinds, while the fresh storm rages on outside. Arion just continues to grin.
“How did you do it?” Vance growls.
“Make you think I was in one town instead of another? Simple, I never let on to Violet that we were anywhere else, and I moved too fast for you to truly track me beyond her own comprehension. I’ll keep the details to myself so that you don’t work on it,” Arion gloats, kissing the top of Violet’s head.
Vance’s fist forms, and he glances down at Violet. His gaze then darts to the shirt on the floor, taking in the room like he’s searching for proof she’s really Violet. I’ve been doing the same.
“You slipped out of the ground so conveniently close to Idun, and we’re all the fools for letting you walk off with the one girl we’re all trying to protect,” Damien drawls. “Got to admit, it was almost genius.”
“Couldn’t ever be, because Violet can’t be imitated,” Arion says almost distractedly, his eyes still on her.
Vance’s brow furrows, and I sniff the room, finding only one strange, nearly-muted scent that is likely human, since this hotel is filled with them. “Do you really think Idun would even pretend to lie on me like this?” Arion asks in a rhetorical tone, running his lips up her cheek. “I was the kicked puppy of the lot, in case you’ve forgotten. The loyal dog who wouldn’t stray was always treated the worst.”
Vance’s gaze flicks to mine, like he’s assessing if I’m buying into this or not, before we turn back to Arion. Damien is perched along the side of the wall now, studying Violet intently.
“While Idun was chasing you, trying to get your attention, and showing you all the affection when you finally gave in…”
The vampire just leaves that unfinished sentence suspended, as if he’s grown too distracted by Violet to bother with us right now.
“Damien,” Violet whispers around a moan in her sleep, her leg sliding higher on Arion’s waist.
When Violet makes a short little sound of pleasure and lightly grinds against Arion, the vampire shoots Damien a dubious look.
“It’s Violet,” Damien finally says, eyes blinking like he’s been trying to get inside her head, his entire body sagging in relief like he’s positive.
It puts me at ease…somewhat. I’ve spent the last four hours trekking through the woods behind Vance as we hunted the bastard vampire with yet another new trick up his sleeve. He seems to have more and more of those.
“She smells so powerfully sweet so much of the time, that we never really notice how subtle, soft and almost absent her scent gets when she’s aroused. The very opposite of how one would generally presume such to be,” Arion prattles on once again, back to sharing his sex-fueled insight as he lingers on the high.
As soon as Violet’s not on him anymore, I’m punching him in the face. Mostly because I haven’t ever noticed that until now, and I hate him for pointing it out. Also because the wolf is near the surface, since he’s left me in a frenzied whirlwind of dread and anger all fucking night.
His hand slides down her back, and we all get a view of him pushing inside her when the sheet slips up with his motions. He’s mostly inside her by the time Violet wakes up, and she makes a very pleased sound against his lips as her hips roll, already quickly adjusting to waking up.
“Insatiable vampire,” she murmurs against his mouth.
Vance turns and walks out much calmer, and Damien almost sighs in relief, as Arion forgets we’re even in the room. Arion’s no longer just Idun’s.
This is proof.
Violet has done the impossible, and she’s stolen Arion from Idun’s clutches. He’d never have a casual affair. It’s a line he’d never cross just to trick us.
Just as Damien starts undoing his shirt like all’s fucking forgiven and he’s about to join in, glass shatters, and Violet shrieks, as Arion flips her, coming down on top of her to shield her.
Damien drops to the ground, cursing, as an arrow stabs through his heart. I drop next, as four arrows simultaneously stick through my torso. A roar rattles out of me when I barely manage to get my body in front of Vance before the next barrage of them hit.
I lose sight of Violet, as Arion rolls to the floor, heaving for air, as Vance drops with two arrows sticking out of his heart. Blasted, I thought I’d saved the Van Helsing so he could handle this.
I feel the unknown poison burning through me, groaning as my limbs start to freeze. What new hell is this?
Just as one arrow comes right for my eyes, Violet’s body steps in front of me, and the taste of her blood splatters against my lips.