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Franco was a man drunk on a woman, feeling like he had taken some magical potion or perhaps that everything he was experiencing was a dream. He spoke to the sponsors, the hosts, and members of his team and their families, but the interactions all felt bland and blurred. Violet glowed next to him, a halo around her entire body, pulling him to her at all the times when he was away from the one thing he had worked his entire life toward.
Franco had to let some of his energy out when it came to the dancing part of the evening. It also didn’t help that Violet had begun bobbing her feet up and down at the table they were assigned to. Her face lit up when a song she recognized began blaring through the speakers.
She stood, holding out her hand to him. He took it without thinking twice.
Neon lights pulsed through the venue as the booze flowed through the veins of the racing world. There was no competition the next day, so everyone was letting their hair down and relaxing before it became time to wise up once again. Franco let himself be pulled into the center of the dance floor, Violet’s tight grip on him utterly intoxicating.
She stopped in a throng of very gleeful and inebriated people, then stood before him. Franco stood like a dumbfounded fool, not exactly skilled in the art of gyration.
But that didn’t matter. Violet slowly swayed her body, her hips a hypnotic metronome, closing her eyes and raising her arms as she became one with the music. She flowed in front of him, her hands running through her hair in wild abandon, shimmying herself in a salsa-like shake to have her back to him.
Franco’s body moved without him realizing what he was doing. He was in a trance, watching her ass and hips sway in front of him in a sensual and mesmerizing display. He touched her waist gingerly, moving his body toward her, then felt the keen firmness of her bottom as she backed into him, creating a striking act of lust.
His cock instantly went as hard as a brick as she rubbed against him, dancing to the current of the music. She wrapped her arms around his neck as her body rolled upward, her breasts bouncing provocatively as Franco craned his mouth to the shell of her ear.
“Do you know what you’re doing to me?” he growled.
Violet bit her bottom lip, then upped the intensity of her sensual movements. She bucked her ass against him harder, letting out a tantalizing moan as he moved in circles with his cock pressed against her.
“I think I do,” she said breathlessly over the music. “I meant what I said earlier; you can do whatever you want to me. I need you.”
She had pulled his head to hers, her lips damp as they pressed to his ear. He thought he might burst through his pants at any moment without notice, his hands moving down the front of her thighs, feeling her heat radiating through her dress.
Franco couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to relieve the tension, and he knew she needed to as well.
He kissed her neck, those beautiful moans echoing through his entire body, then he murmured.
“I think you need to come back to my room.”
NINE
VIOLET
Franco’s voice was like a deep, guttural growl in her ear, sending a blanket of chills up her spine like an aggressive wave in a stormy sea. Her entire body felt both weak and strong at the same time, powerful in her ability to conjure his interest, crumbling at the sensation of his seduction.
It had been a long time since Violet had been touched. She’d had a fling or two back in college, but they were all for practical means: stress relief or distraction. Virtually all of them had been disappointing, and she had turned her mind and body toward getting her degree, knowing that carnal fun would be on the horizon.
And they had all appreciated her body, of course, but she was a smoke show. Violet had a strong presence about her, walking in flawless posture, her head held high, heels clicking against the floor as if she were walking toward the throne that awaited her. It had taken time to build such an attitude, and even then, during the darkest nights and loneliest hours, the confidence she exuded had merely been a mask.
But then, grinding her body against Franco in her mermaid-style dress, the lights pulsing a dirty neon pink, red, and flamboyant blue, Violet felt like a goddess. A goddess who knew what she wanted and was bursting with conviction that she knew how to ask for it.
In fact, her bones, her skin, her heart, and her dampening insides were all burning too.
“Take me then,” she purred back into his ear.
Violet could nearly taste the arousal floating around Franco’s lips like a mist as her mouth lingered, the lights throbbing from neon to slow and steady pastel shades. His cock pressed against the form of her ass, vibrating with a wild need. His musk had a sharp woodsy scent that seemed to float down her lips and trickle between her breasts.
Franco’s eyes darted around, searching her face for sincerity. The cluster of people grooving around them vanished, and suddenly, it was only the two of them, the music dissipating to a faint hum, a jazzy tune with a gentle song.
Violet craned her head against his shoulder, her tigress rising to the occasion. She crushed his lips with her own as she pulled his head downward, the two shifters eliciting a moan of relief that could shake the very soil.
She was the first to part her lips, shoving her tongue into his mouth, welcoming a surprised snarl that rumbled up Franco’s chest. She still had her back to him, grinding her ass against his hard arousal and pressing her breasts firmly outward as his hands wandered furiously from her waist to cup them.
When he did, Violet felt his strength. It was unlike anything she had ever felt, and she had been with other shifters before. Their fitness routine had been something of a show, a theatrical performance with little substance to it.
But Franco, good God.
He rubbed at her protruded breasts in a way that was subtle yet stimulating. They were still in public, so his caresses were slightly subdued yet stern and full of meaning.
