"Roman, you have to stop this. Trust me, you don’t know what you’re doing, neither does she. You’re under her control, this isn’t what you want," Alaric’s voice was imploring as he tried to pull his cardinal brother back from the edge.
But his words seemed to fall on deaf ears as Roman’s focus was locked entirely on Violet, who pressed herself against him, her chest flush against his. And to make it worse, Roman, entranced, reached behind her to unclasp her bra.
Oh, hell no. Not happening. Not on his watch.
Alaric moved swiftly, grabbing Roman by the arm and yanking him away from Violet. For a brief moment, he succeeded in separating them, but the look Roman shot him made Alaric’s heart skip a beat.
It was said never to snatch prey from the jaws of a lion, and Alaric had just done exactly that.
Roman’s face contorted with fury, his features twisting into something more beast than human. A guttural snarl ripped from his throat as his eyes slitted like a snake’s, his tongue forked, and scales crept up his arms, spreading to his neck as he half-shifted into a serpentine form.
"Roman, don’t—" Alaric began, but it was too late. Roman’s intentions were clear as he spit a thick glob of venom directly at him.
Alaric managed to dodge it, but not enough. The venom struck his face, and within seconds, his body tensed, a sharp groan escaping his lips as he collapsed to the ground.
Alaric was paralyzed, his limbs refusing to cooperate, although the venom’s purpose was not fatal. Roman, even in this feral state, knew better than to harm a cardinal brother beyond incapacitation. Still, the poison burned like hellfire as it coursed through Alaric’s veins.
Helpless, Alaric could only watch as Roman turned back to Violet, who eagerly pulled him into her embrace with excitement.
So much for trying to stop them, Alaric thought bitterly, frustration bubbling inside of him as he watched the scene unfold.
With deft hands, Roman unclasped Violet’s bra and tossed it aside, the lacy fabric landing mockingly near his head. The intoxicating scent of Violet’s natural aroma filled his nostrils, making him groan in both frustration and regret. The irony wasn’t lost on him, had he thrown his self control aside earlier, he would have been the one in Roman’s shoes.
No. He couldn’t think that way. Alaric shook off the thought as best as he could, despite his incapacitation.
Violet doesn’t know what she’s doing. This wasn’t her fault. He had done the right thing. But it was nearly impossible to believe those words, not when Violet’s gasps and moans filled the air as Roman pleasured her, each sound piercing through him like a blade.
Roman’s hands roamed Violet’s body, his mouth finding her exposed breasts. Alaric clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms as he struggled against the venom’s hold. Deep down inside of him —a dark, shameful part—ached with jealousy and longing as he watched Roman tease and worship her body with an intensity that shook him to his core.
"Fuck," Alaric groaned through gritted teeth. Even with Roman’s venom coursing through his blood, one part of him remained unaffected, standing at full attention in response to the scene before him.
Violet’s moans only grew louder as Roman the son of a biscuit teased, licked, kneaded, and sucked her sensitive breasts, his tongue lavishing attention on every inch of her.
He should have squeezed his eyes shut, and blocked it all out, but Alaric couldn’t. No, he didn’t want to. Because the truth remained he was just as entranced as Roman was. Unlike him, Roman was the one enjoying himself instead.
By the time Roman was done, it was obvious that Violet was ripe for the taking.
It was time.
Dread filled Alaric. Just where were the others when you needed them. However, to his relief, it seemed Roman was not ready yet to claim his prize and still had other ideas in mind.
He carefully positioned her on her back atop a desk. The edge of the desk, however, failed to support her fully; her neck dangled slightly off the side, her gaze accidentally meeting Alaric’s. In her eyes, Alaric saw a wild, fervent need, a look of total surrender to whatever Roman planned, driven by her overwhelming desire.
Alaric’s heart raced as he realized Roman’s intentions, especially as he turned away, allowing Violet’s panties to join her bra on the floor. The intense scent of her arousal filled the air, striking Alaric with a wave of his own unbidden arousal. He groaned internally, caught between his instincts and the scene unfolding before him, tormented by the erotic display yet unable to look away.
As Roman parted Violet’s legs further, Alaric couldn’t help but notice her reaction, the way her mouth fell open in a small, sharp gasp, and her golden eyes widened with surprise and burgeoning pleasure.
Watching from his vantage point, Alaric found himself unexpectedly captivated by the play of emotions across Violet’s face as Roman skillfully elicited moans from her.
Each time Roman altered his rhythm, Violet’s mouth would form a perfect "O," her eyes fluttering shut as waves of pleasure seemed to drag her over. Her breathing grew rapid, her chest and breasts heaving with each breath. Her fingers couldn’t help but tangle in her hair, pulling slightly with frustration and ecstasy.
The sounds she made—the soft moans, whimpers, squeals and gasps—molded into the room’s silence, creating a symphony of desire that Alaric felt resonate within him.
He was mesmerized by the euphoric expression that painted her features when she reached her climax; her face was awash with bliss, her body momentarily lax in the aftermath of intense pleasure.
As she lay there, dazed and beautifully satiated, Alaric realized he was witnessing a rare moment of vulnerability and raw beauty. In that moment, he thought Violet might just be the most enchanting woman he had ever seen, her expressions etching themselves indelibly into his memory.