Alaric knew he would keep this image of Violet forever burned into his mind. She was so raw in her reactions, so unabashedly expressive it drove him insane. Beautiful didn’t even begin to cover it.
And Violet, she didn’t know how to describe it, only that this new angle did something to her. He filled her in a deeper, different way, striking spots that tore her breath away and sent her eyes rolling back. Goddess above, nothing had ever felt this good.
Unlike the others who drove into her like they were possessed by demons, Alaric was something else entirely. With her leg already hooked over his shoulder, he gripped her hips and slammed into her to the hilt. Then he drew back before slamming into her again and again. He set a punishing pace in intervals, each thrust angled perfectly, and hitting her g-spot with such ruthless precision that Violet spilled a string of colorful curses.
At this rate, she knew she wasn’t going to last.
The North Alpha held her firmly, controlling every grind of his hips as he claimed her body. And Violet could only mewl and writhe beneath him, undone by every calculated stroke.
Alaric growled low in his chest. "You’re mine now, Violet. My beautiful Vixen."
Then he planted one hand beside her head, the other one gripping her thigh as he angled his hips even deeper. And that new angle wrecked her.
Violet’s back arched clean off the bed, a strangled cry ripping from her throat as the stretch hit a place so unbearably good she saw bright pinpricks behind her eyelids.
"Goddess—Alaric—"
"That’s it," he encouraged her, his voice dripping with dark satisfaction. "Let me hear you."
He pulled back again torturously slow, letting her feel every inch, every vein, and every stroke. Then he snapped his hips forward with a brutal, consuming thrust that made her gasp so sharply it was nearly a sob.
Violet’s hands flew up, grabbing helplessly at his arms and shoulders, anything at all to anchor herself as he plunged into her again, deeper, harder, and more intentional than before. The bed creaked under the force of him, her leg trembling violently atop his shoulder.
"You feel that?" Alaric whispered against her ear, his breath hot and ragged. "You’re taking all of me, my beautiful mate, every damn inch."
But Violet could only nod because speech was impossible now. Her whole body tightened around him, pulling him in, begging for more without a word.
"Goddess, I feel you," Alaric groaned, hips snapping harder. "You’re so close now, aren’t you? Don’t hold back for me. I want to watch you fall.... Fall for me, my Vixen."
She came undone for him.
Violet’s vision blurred as the orgasm ripped through her so violently her body bowed off the bed, a raw scream tearing from her throat—only for Alaric to snarl in triumph and slam into her harder, refusing to give her even a second to recover. Thunder cracked outside the palace, a booming warning of the lightning prince losing control above her.
Alaric didn’t stop. He plowed through her orgasm savagely, his hips snapping forward over and over until Violet didn’t know where she ended and he began.
Then out of nowhere, she felt hands over her.
It was Roman. He was the first to drop beside her and closed his mouth over one nipple, sucking hard. Violet’s back arched so sharply the sheets bunched beneath her.
Dear lord. She was going to die at this point.
Then Griffin came out of nowhere and
took the other, and it was over. The triple stimulation nearly drove her mad as Griffin enveloped her nipple before he nipped at it gently, then sucked with deep, slow pulls that shot straight to her core.
Violet howled like an animal overwhelmed by too much pleasure. It was so much stimulation and yet she took it like the good girl she was.



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