Page 74 of Unleashed By Eden

I know how to disappear.

Chapter twenty-one

Violet

Waking up next to him without an alarm or a call from Chris or Megan is heaven.

The light creeps in around the blackout curtains and lays itself across the sheets. Carter is on his stomach beside me, one arm flung over my waist, face turned toward my pillow, breathing deep and even.

We have nowhere to be—it’s a strange feeling. Paris is outside, and we’re in here, naked and utterly uninterested in the rest of the world.

The day drifts around us. There is no other word for it. We slide between sleep and sex and half-finished conversations, ordering room service we mostly forget to eat because every time one of us reaches for food, the other reaches for skin instead.

He’s sweet with me in a way I’m still not used to. Little things. His nose nudging into my hair, trying to inhale me deep into his lungs. His fingers tracing the line of my spine while he talks about something and doesn’t seem to notice he’s doing it.

Without the weight of his test results hanging over him, he’s lighter. Who am I kidding, so am I.

The ease between us feels familiar in a way, going back to being kids sprawled in Liam’s room. Only now we’re older. And there’s a softness here that I didn’t think I’d ever have again, woven with all the history that sits between us.

Every time his hand curves around my hip or his thigh slots between mine, it gets harder to remember why I spent years building walls taller than both of us. Harder to reconcile the boy who shattered me with the man who holds me like I’m worth handling carefully.

At some point, we end up sideways on the bed, legs tangled, with breakfast and lunch trays abandoned on every flat surface. The room smells of cigarettes and sex.

His lips brush my shoulder. “We should go to my suite,” he murmurs against my skin. “Check in with the guys. Eat something that wasn’t wheeled in on a trolley.”

Carter and the band are sharing the entire top floor: one sprawling penthouse that looks out over the city. I’ve been avoiding it, and everyone in it, for obvious reasons.

“You sure you want to do this?” I ask.

“Yes,” he answers immediately. “Very sure. I don’t want to hide this from them. They’re my family.” His mouth curves against my shoulder. “Plus, as much as I love staying in your room . . . mine’s better.”

He kisses me once, then throws the blanket back and reaches for his phone, tapping out a message.

“I’ve let them know we’re coming for dinner.”

He’s standing at the edge of the bed, naked and scrolling, his muscles cut in sharp lines, tattoos crawling over his skin. The metal along his cock makes my mouth water.

Today, he has been relentless about me and my pleasure, controlling the pace and calling the shots. It’s left me pleasantly wrung out, but he’s been having way too much fun being in charge.

He’s had his fun. Now it’s time for mine.

I crawl across the mattress and wrap my fingers around the base of his cock. His phone slips a fraction in his hand. I meet his eyes, then lean in and close my mouth around the head.

He hisses, gaze dropping fully to me now.

His cock is already sensitive from fucking me raw all day. I take my time, easing him into it. He chucks his phone onto the bed without looking where it lands and gathers my hair in his fist, pulling it out of my face.

I love the way he tastes, that mix of salt and the tang of metal. But with him standing and me kneeling on the bed, there’s only so much I can do. He’s too big for this angle, my jaw already working overtime.

I pull off him, drag in a breath, then flip onto my back and shimmy down the bed until my head hangs over the edge, hair cascading toward the floor.

His eyes narrow. “What are you doing, Storm?”

“Use my throat,” I say. “Fuck me properly.”

The sound he makes is obscene. “You’re killing me, Vi.”

He braces a hand on the mattress, the other around the base of his cock, and feeds himself into my mouth. I flatten my tongue and work on staying open for him, willing my throat to relax as he starts with shallow thrusts, letting me get used to his rhythm.