Untaming Lady Violet by April Moran
Chapter 34
Tristan tapped on Violet’s door.
Would she answer?
He wasn’t sure, but there was light emerging from the sliver of space between the bottom of the door and the floor.
His knuckles rapped on the wood again.
If she doesn’t answer in a few seconds, I will go.
Violet’s voice was low, muffled by the thickness of the oak between them. “Who is it?”
Tristan’s heart pounded as though he’d raced to London and back on foot. “It is me, kitten. Will you open the door?”
Her hesitation broke his heart. When had the breach of trust occurred? When precisely had she begun distrusting him? Was it that moment in his studio? When he denied his feelings for her…
The lock rattled before the door cracked open a tiny bit. He could see she wore a gown of white cambric. It fluttered around her with a billowy softness, like a cloud of angel wings. She held Carrot to her chest, and the kitten regarded him with an imperialistic, yet sleepy air. At least the beast wasn’t hissing at him.
“What do you want, Tristan?”
I want to tell you I love you. I want to tell you I need you. But I’m afraid, deathly afraid that you no longer love me. And while I deserve that, it will break me.
“I just encountered my sister roaming the halls at five o’clock in the morning, and she said you needed me. I thought you might be ill.” Disappointment with his own lack of bravery had Tristan’s jaw clenching tight
Violet tucked her chin closer to the top of Carrot’s head. “Oh. Well, I’m fine. Really. Just fine. Goodnight, Tristan. Or is it good morning? I’m a little topsy-turvy at the moment, so you must choose the one that applies.”
A funny hiccup escaped her as she went to close the door. But as light from the corridor lit her features, Tristan saw evidence of tears trailing down her pale cheeks.
“You’re crying. Why are you crying? Are you hurt? In pain?” Firing questions quicker than she could possibly answer, Tristan laid a palm on the door, preventing its closure. “Celia said something about Lady Everstone…”
“It is nothing. Speaking with my mother was a mistake, as some conversations inevitably are meant to be. Do not concern yourself, Tristan.”
“It is my concern,” he breathed. “I swore you would not have to see them again if you did not wish it. Was she cruel to you? Abusive? I’ll take a strap to her myself if she…”
“It was nothing I didn’t expect from her.” Violet sighed heavily, swinging the door open just a bit more. “You may as well come in before anyone sees you lurking in the corridor. And close the door.”
A single lamp burned low beside her bed, and she turned toward it without sparing him another glance.
Tristan hesitated before entering her bedchamber. Violet’s demeanor, one of distraction and heartache, concerned him a great deal.
She climbed into bed, still clutching Carrot, who purred so robustly the sound rumbled around the room.
“What did she say that upset you?” Damn her parents and their selfishness. A horsewhip applied with great enthusiasm would do the pair of them a world of good.
Violet sighed, waving a hand as if bruising the heart of their only child was a trivial matter. “That I am a horrible daughter. A weed that ultimately served no purpose. Mother says my lack of faithfulness and loyalty has doomed them, and I suppose it is true. I did not apply myself to finding a husband on the Marriage Mart. And when Lord Ghastly, I mean, Lord Gadley, presented a solution, I agreed; although, I resented them all for it. They placed our survival on my shoulders, but I am too weak. I couldn’t save myself, much less rescue an earldom.” The soft, golden light highlighted the confused anguish washing over her features. “But to be called those names, by my own mother. I wish it didn’t hurt so much…”
Tristan crossed the room.
This gentle, ravishing creature was tearing him apart with her quiet sorrow. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and soothe all the pain away.
But his own words had sliced and wounded her as well. Instead of reaching for her as he longed to do, Tristan stopped at the foot of the bed.
“You are not to blame for their shortcomings, nor their despicable character, kitten. They’ve done nothing to deserve a daughter such as you. You are a treasure that has been wasted on them.”
“I don’t know what to do, Tristan,” she said simply. “Where I should go. Where I am to belong.”
“You may stay here at Darby Meadows until you decide your course, Violet. As badly as I want you for my wife, I will not follow your parents’ example and force you into it. My family all adore you. You know they welcome you staying here for the rest of your life.”
Plucking at the bed’s counterpane, a frown knitted Violet’s brow. “I would be a burden.”
“That’s not true.” Tristan could not help but come closer. She called to his soul, as deadly as a siren calling unwary sailors to a rocky shore.
“It’s not a long-term solution though, is it?” Violet met his gaze, her dark amethyst-blue eyes piercing in their intensity. “Will you stay away from Darby Meadows if I remain here?”
Tristan’s fists clenched. “Do not ask that of me, Violet.”
“Would you do it if I begged?”
“No.” The word burst out, frustration evident in the curtness of his tone.
“Then I will not stay. I cannot see you after everything that has passed between us and pretend none of it happened. Being Gadley’s wife, anyone’s wife, is preferable to that torment.”
A roaring sound filled Tristan’s head at the thought of another man touching her. “You forget the price I paid for your freedom.”
Violet’s head tilted. “My freedom or your accessibility, Tristan?”
Setting Carrot aside, she rose up on her knees, shaking her hair back until it tumbled like a waterfall of fire down her back. Her eyes glittered with something Tristan could not name. Resoluteness, perhaps. Angry determination. Something untamed.
She moved closer, reaching out to run a finger down the open vee of his shirt, skimming over the hollow of his throat. “How shall I begin my repayment?”
Tristan stiffened with the question. Her touch was akin to a burning flame licking across his skin, but he refused to give in to the compulsion to snatch her against him. “It is not repayment I want from you. It is that you choose what you want.”
Celia’s words echoed in his head. She is your destiny. And you are hers.
“What would you sacrifice for love, Tristan?” Violet whispered, moving closer still until, even on her knees, she was able to wrap her arms around his neck. “Mine is avoiding the very sight of you so my heart is not ripped to shreds again and again.”
“Do not ask the same of me, Violet. I cannot fathom life without you.”
Violet’s eyes flared with his choice of words. “Then what are we to do? The freedom you bought me will not matter if I have it alone.”
Am I listening to her? She is asking if I love her enough to keep her...
“Then I sacrifice my heart to you. You own it. You have for a long time now.” Tristan’s hand buried itself in her tumble of fire-sparked waves. Tugging her head back, he scrutinized the glow in her eyes. “I never realized until this moment, how your name truly suits you.”
Violet caught her bottom lip in her teeth to still its trembling. “You also believe I am a weed?”
As if disturbed by the conversation, Carrot stretched like a lazy lion, gave them both a disgusted glare, and jumped from the bed to search for monsters behind the window drapes.
“Far from it, my love.” Tristan pushed Violet back, following until they lay entwined on the bed.
It was then Tristan realized the truth of the matter. He loved Violet. Yes, loved her. With every fiber of his being, although he could not utter the words aloud. There was still that tiny, insecure portion of his heart demanding absolute certainty his love was returned before a declaration of such magnitude was pronounced to the world.
Looming over her, he brushed his nose against hers, breathing deeply of her delicate perfume. “You are a violet. Delicate and sweet, but stubborn and strong enough to withstand the storms. Spreading like an untamed wildfire into dark corners, blooming where you please. Only when it’s too late does a man become aware you’ve invaded every nook and cranny he might possess.”
Violet’s eyes shimmered. Her fingers twined through his hair. “I’ve bloomed because of you, Tristan.”
Tristan stroked Violet’s cheek. “I never looked closely enough to notice your brilliant color and how you shine with such breathtaking light. You’ve invaded me, sweet Violet. Crept inside when I wasn’t expecting it and unfurled your petals. You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and I love you more than I do my own life.” Taking a deep breath, he smiled at her. “That is what I should have said when you opened your door just now. It’s what I should have said the night you gave your heart to me for safekeeping. Forgive me, kitten. Forgive me for not realizing sooner that I love you. I hope—I hope you will love me again someday.”
Holding his breath, Tristan waited for her reaction. He’d poured his heart out and didn’t know if she would mock his sentiments or…
Violet’s arms wound tight around his neck. Sweet lavender and vanilla perfume teased him. The globes of her breasts pressed against his chest. She was crying, and oh, God, what should he do next? How could he fix what had hurt her so deeply?
“I love you now, Tristan. I’ve loved you forever. I will love you for an eternity.”
His lips moved against her ear. “When you decide it’s time, Violet, will you marry me?”
Tilting her head back, Violet’s smile was one of sweet triumph. “I would marry you this instant if I could, Tristan Buchanan. I would give myself to you in every way you desired. I am yours.”
“And my soul belongs to you, my wild Violet. Now, kiss me so I may live on it until you are completely mine in every way.”
“A single kiss is not enough to survive on,” Violet murmured, her lips pressing against his.
Her words penetrated the haze surrounding Tristan. She loved him. And she would become his wife as soon as he could arrange a ceremony.
Gathering Violet tight, he rocked against her, his need battering away at his common sense. He could restrain himself if he truly tried. Control his primal urges until she was legally his wife.
But Violet would not allow it.
Her hand crept into the space between their bodies. She twisted and squirmed until the buttons of his breeches were open and he throbbed in the palm of her hand.
His breath caught.
“Violet, my sweet, wild Violet. I have very little willpower when it comes to you, but I have enough to deny myself until you are legally mine.”
“But I do not, Tristan. I want you now.” She nipped at his throat like an untamed creature before kissing the sting away. “I want you to hold me. Kiss me. Remind me that our hearts beat together. Will you do this for me?”
And because he could deny her nothing, Tristan groaned in surrender. In a move that elicited a shocked laugh from Violet, he flipped her onto her stomach. He encouraged her to lay forward, her bottom lifted for his pleasure.
“I will do anything for you. But this, this will be done my way, Violet. Do you understand?”
Violet purred in response and arched against him, her beautifully plump rear rubbing against his groin. “Yes, Tristan. Yes. Only, do hurry. Morning will be here soon, and— oh, God.”
Her heated demand melted into a sigh of pleasure as Tristan’s hand swept under her nightgown, smoothing over the rounded globes of her buttocks before breaching the space between her thighs. She was already wet for him, and the knowledge made him tremble with anticipation.
“First, we must rid you of this bothersome garment.” Leaning back on his haunches, Tristan used both hands to rip the nightgown into two halves, the flimsy material separating like cobwebs.
Violet gasped in stunned delight, then moaned when Tristan’s mouth touched her shoulder. In careful exploration, he moved slowly to the delicate length of her spine. He worshiped the satin skin until she was writhing beneath him before moving to her buttocks. He covered the pale flesh with a thousand kisses, nipping softly occasionally with his teeth and plunging a finger into the warmth of her vagina. A demanding rhythm soon had her crying for release, her flesh clenching around his fingers, begging to be filled.
Leaning back, Tristan enjoyed the view. Violet’s bottom undulated before him, his fingers wedged into paradise, his thumb teasing the tiny bit of flesh in a way that would soon send her flying over the edge.
And then, because he knew from experience what it would do, he lightly slapped the pale flesh of one buttock, his hand leaving behind a pink imprint, his words a low growl.
“Come for me, Violet.”
Violet choked on a sob, shattering so completely Tristan felt the shockwaves of her climax as it traveled from his hand, up his arm, and through his own body. The next instant, he guided himself into her sheath, groaning as the squeeze of her flesh nearly drove him insane.
He spanked her again, gratified when she rocked back against him with a cry of pleasure so pure and so sweet, he very nearly spilled himself inside her. Gripping her hips, he forced her movements to still, but inside her, where he was nestled so deep, he felt every quiver of her soul.
“Sweet, sweet love.” He had a tenuous grip on his control, and he wanted to plunge over and over until his mind exploded in oblivion. “How have I existed without you?”
“Don’t stop, Tristan,” she panted, clutching handfuls of sheets and covers and even a pillow.
He wouldn’t stop, but he also wouldn’t take her this first time, this first time when they had declared their love for one another, without seeing her eyes.
Withdrawing from her, he turned her onto her back and sunk between her thighs once more. Yes, he still wore his shirt, his boots, even his trousers, which were currently hanging past his hips. None of that mattered as he buried himself. He could see her eyes now. See the love shining from them.
He could see her soul as surely as she could see his.
“I love you,” he muttered, building her passion back up into a raging inferno in which he would happily burn for an eternity. “I will always love you.”
“I know, Tristan.” Lifting herself to meet him halfway, Violet kissed him. Her cheeks were wet with tears of happiness. “I love you, too.”
His release was a combustible fire that swept her along with him. Violet cried out, clutching him tightly as he poured himself deep inside her.
“Thank God, you are mine, Violet.” Tristan held her tight, absorbing and savoring every tremor as she surrendered everything to him. “Mine at last. And I’ll never let you go.”