A/N: Precursor warning: extreme adult themes of sexual nature in this chapter. If you're not comfortable with such a thing, probably just skip the whole chapter because it's definitely M. Just message me and I'll give you a run-down of anything important you missed. Besides the sexy-times, I mean.
Logan didn't know if enraged was even strong enough a word to describe what he was feeling at this moment.
He'd just spent nearly an hour and a half arguing with Fawn that she would not be taking Violet away from him. Violet would remain by Logan's side until after this whole war of sorts was figured out, and after if Violet so wished. He was not about to lose her to his jealousy-stricken sister.
And Logan sure as hell was not about to lose her to some golden boy from the south that thought he could try and put the moves on his girl so blatantly. It was not only an insult to Logan's ego the man would so dare as hit on Violet who was so obviously taken, but an insult to his pride to see that Violet had been a sort of enamored with this man, staring at him with wide eyes as they whirled together like a prince and princess on the dance floor.
By now, Logan's yelling had grossed enough attention that a few people were staring at them. He didn't give a fuck. Golden boy was going to keep his hands off of Violet, or so help him, Logan would simply cut the appendages off at the wrist so the man would have no choice.
"Your girl?" Golden boy asked calmly, raising a brow in speculation. "She never said to be taken when I asked her to dance."
"Doesn't matter," Logan snarled, free hand balling into a fist. He saw red, about ready to strike. "You keep your paws off of her, got it?"
"Logan? Logan!" He turned then, a bit dazed to see Violet glaring, her cheeks flushed and her posture rigid. "Stop it!"
It took a moment for her words to register. "Stop it?" he asked at last, the request sounding dull on his tongue. "Why?"
"Because I asked you to," Violet said, tone softening, eyes pleading.
And how could he say no to that?
The few people that had been staring turned away as Logan dropped hold of golden boy's arm, giving a dissatisfied snort. It was only then he realized Charlotte, Fawn and Thaddeus had followed him to the middle of the dance floor in his search for Violet, the latter looking like he'd been ready to pull Logan out of a fight at any moment. Just as well; Logan probably would've punched golden boy right in the teeth had Violet not stopped him. There was still anger there in his blood, setting his nerves on fire.
And he wasn't about to let golden boy or Fawn or anyone else take Violet's attentions away from him anymore. He'd wasted more than enough time with that kind of bullshit, and he was done with it.
Without a word, he grabbed hold of Violet's hand and dragged her forward, motioning to Thaddeus to hold everyone off; the older man nodded in understanding. "Oh, Persephone–" but Fawn was blocked by Thaddeus right off the bat, Logan pulling Violet along.
It was easy enough to slip out of the ball room unnoticed. John was busy with his associates; golden boy hadn't followed them; Thaddeus and probably Charlotte, too, had Fawn nailed down. The moment the doors shut behind them, Violet opened her mouth– probably to ask what the hell Logan thought he was doing– but his own mouth was on hers, body pushing her back into the wall harshly, all the breath left from her lungs so she gasped and he could deepen the kiss, wanting to taste every inch of her mouth. There was still the whisper of pomegranate there, the sting of vodka on her tongue.
She was the one to pull away first, of course. "What–what are you doing?" she gasped as his hands gripped at her waist, as if trying to touch her skin through the fabric of her gown. He could burn it right off, he thought. Take her right here and now; claim her like some primal need in him screamed to do.
"I'm tired of people trying to steal you away from me," he said, leaning in the press his lips against her throat, tasting salt and sweet and Violet. She gave a startled squeak as he bit down into the skin, marking her with the sweetest hint of blood. "You're mine, not theirs."
"I'm not– I'm not a possession, Logan," she said breathlessly, hands braced to his shoulders. "I'm my own–"
"You're your own person, yeah, yeah yadda yadda; shut up," he hissed, crashing his mouth onto hers, bending her body back so she had no choice but to press against him, hips bowed to his. "You're you and that shouldn't ever change," he groaned between kisses. "But you belong to me."
"But why?" she gasped out, panting and writhing under his grip. At any moment someone could walk out of the party and catch them; he knew it made her nervous but he didn't care. He wanted them to know he was the only one that could have her. "I thought you didn't even have 'much fondness' towards me, as you put it… Why want me so much now all of a sudden?"
He pulled back from her then, bracing one hand against the wall so he could look down at her, tip her chin up with the fingers of his free hand. "You stupid, stupid girl," he laughed, kissing her hard and aggressive. "If you really think my affections have not changed, or that they were less than wanting in the first place, you're not as bright as I pegged you."
She huffed at that, shoving him away as he tried for another kiss, ducking under his arm and beginning to walk toward the lobby, arms crossed over her chest. "You never said anything different, asshole."
It was easy to catch up with her; she was breathless and he was full of coiled energy waiting to explode. He wasted no time looping his arm around her waist and ignoring her glare at the action. "I thought it was obvious the day you kissed me, and I kissed you back."
"You were only kissing me because I remembered Persephone," she said as they neared the elevators, her tone making it sound as if the idea was the most blatantly obvious thing. "That's the only reason you've ever wanted me, is for her." She pushed the up button and would not meet his eye, even when he tried his hardest to meet hers.
"Violet," he said as the doors opened, following her inside. "Violet– look at me." When she didn't he grabbed her shoulders, forcing her gaze. "Violet, I have never wanted you because I've thought of you as someone else," he said, teeth grit at the very idea. Adrenaline still ran through his blood and he wanted to punch something for being such a fool and confusing her so. "Maybe in the initial attraction between us it was Hades and Persephone, but everything I feel for you now is for you. For Violet. Not Persephone. And I feel it as Logan, not as Hades. There will always be the love of Hades for Persephone in my soul, I can't change that. But you're different. We both are. And I feel for you, Violet. Only for you."
"But what is it you feel for me?" she asked as the elevator rose– he hadn't even realized she'd pressed the button. Her eyes were glassy, as if she were about ready to cry and it made his heart feel as if it were about to beat out of his chest. God or not, right now, in this instant, he felt so completely mortal.
"I don't know," he said to her honestly, quickly wanting to explain as her expression fell. "Violet, I have been in lust a thousand times before; infatuation too. I've even been in love. But what I feel for you– it's different from all of that, Violet. In all the lives I have ever lived, I have never felt for another what I feel for you. I don't think I even felt this strongly as Hades for Persephone; I don't think I had the capacity to. But you, with you it's different. You're so goddamn stubborn and selfish and intelligent and funny and kind. You have me bloody fucking unhinged and yet I still can't get enough of you." He let his voice drop, body pressed into hers so she could see how much he wanted her. "I want you."
Her short intake of breath was the only direct response that he got from her. He thought that would be the end of it then; she'd rebuff him and tell him to leave her be and he would because he'd do whatever she asked by this point other than fully let her go, and that was just to protect her and kill the very man that had ripped her away from him in the first place.
But then her arms were around his neck, her mouth on his own. She gave a small whimper, igniting the fire within him once more. He groaned, hands fisting in her hair and pulling at the strands, clips coming out between his fingers. The elevator doors dinged open then, and he spun her, bodies pressed together as they stumbled out of the elevator, an elderly couple overly shocked by their dramatic display of affection as the two made their way to their room down the hall.
"I remember when we were their age; don't you Martha?" the elderly man smiled.
"Oh, Herbert," said his wife, rolling her eyes playfully as they climbed aboard the elevator, the last they saw of the young couple being the man grabbing a room key from his pocket, trying to get it in the lock without his mouth ever leaving the girl's which he was so obviously smitten with.
"If I remember correct," said the elderly man. "Eugene was conceived in this hotel."
"Oh Herbert," the wife said again as the elevator doors closed, a secret smile on her face as her husband softly reached out for her hand.
"Off," Violet ordered around his mouth, pulling at the edges of his jacket with shaking hands.
Logan chuckled, doing as she commanded and pulling his jacket off before latching his mouth back onto hers, biting at her lower lip until she made a soft sound in the back of her throat, fumbling with his tie. They'd managed to make it into his room and get the door shut, but so far they hadn't moved from it, her back against the surface as she stubbornly tried to undress him, murmuring a curse when his tie wouldn't unfasten the way that she wanted it to.
"Calm down, love," Logan murmured, grabbing at her wrists and pinning her arms to her sides. "We have all night."
"Oh Gods," Violet said then, the haze in her eyes quickly turning to panic. "The gala, we left early, and Wyatt was stuck with John, and Evangeline was… And Michael–" She paused at the hard set of Logan's jaw then, swallowing nervously as she looked up at him.
"Michael?" he asked, knowing full well who she was talking about, but wanting to hear her say it herself. "Who's Michael?"
"Logan, it was just a dance and it isn't like– I wasn't going to– oh." Her head thumped back against the door as he kissed her neck again; sinking his teeth into the same place he had earlier. There was still a bit of blood left there, sweet and strong and Gods if this was the way her blood tasted then he couldn't even imagine the way she tasted. "L-Logan," she whined, writhing against him. Where he'd intended the bite more for punishment she'd taken it for pleasure; it spiked his blood even more and made him grind into her, hips harsh on her own, erection throbbing from how badly he ached to be inside of her.
"Who do you belong to, Violet?" he whispered again her ear, the most possessive he'd ever been in his life. He didn't know what it was about her that brought out this primal instinct in him to claim, but he didn't much care either. All he knew was that he wanted her, and she wanted him if it wasn't already obvious by the way she was rubbing her hips in needy thrusts against his own.
But she shook her head in answer to him, biting her bottom lip, always the stubborn one. He still had a hold of her wrists, using them as base to slide his hands up her arms, all the way to her elbows before he grabbed tight and pulled her away from the door, farther into room. In one fluid movement he turned her and pushed her back onto the bed, keeping her gaze as he loosened his tie, not missing the way she bit her lower lip, trying to look away.
With his tie undone, he moved to the buttons of his shirt next, undoing them one at a time as Violet remained on the bed, half laying, half sitting as she propped herself up on her elbows and still refused to look at him. He toed off his shoes next, his socks. And then he moved to the belt of his pants, unbuckling it. At the sound, Violet's head snapped up. Her eyes were wide and frightened and full of longing, lip gone white from being worried between her teeth.
"Do you want me to stop, Violet?" he asked, hands paused in their task of undressing himself. For a moment she said nothing, staring at the floor and pressing her legs together beneath her dress. Then, with a blush, she shook her head. "Tell me what you want, Violet."
"I don't want you to stop," she said softly. "But I…"
"You what?" he asked with a raise of his brow. "Speak up, Violet. Look at me when you talk."
"I want you–" she glanced up from beneath her lashes– "to get this fucking dress off of me."
At that he couldn't help but laugh, watching the small smile curl at the corners of Violet's mouth. He left his belt and pants alone for the moment, coming to rest at the foot of the bed, motioning for her to sit up. She did as told– for once– and turned slightly. There was a series of clasps on the back of the dress that had to be unhooked in order for it to be taken off.
"Turn over," Logan said then.
"What?" she asked, breath coming in harsh pants as he set his hands on her skin.
"Turn. Over. Lay on your stomach, arch your lower back." Again, she did as told. Albeit, slowly and with questioning eyes, but she did as told. Who'd have known such a stubborn little thing like her could be so submissive in the bedroom? He could get used to this.
With a smirk, Logan laid a soft kiss to the already exposed skin of her back. She shivered, tasted like fire and cut grass as he undid the first button of the dress and pressed another kiss to her flesh. With each button he repeated the motion, mouth lingering longer the lower he got. By the time he'd reached the small of her back, he let his tongue dip into the slight dimples there, collecting salty drops of sweat and smirking at the way Violet gasped from the contact, burrowing her face into the bedspread to hide the sound.
"Lift up onto your hands and knees," he said lowly, letting out a short breath when she did as told with a shudder.
Slowly, he grabbed at the top of the dress, dragging it down her torso to her hips, the lace of her underwear peeking out. Gray– his fucking favorite, of course. Without thinking about it, he pulled the dress down a little farther and moved to graze his teeth over where the line of her underwear stopped on the swell of her ass; chuckled at Violet's little squeak of surprise from the action. But the chuckle quickly turned into a dark growl as he realized he could smell her now, deep and heady and somehow still sweet.
It took all his will to pull the dress off of her the rest of the way now and not just wedge himself in between her thighs. Instead he let the dress pool around her knees, taking inventory of the raised scars marring the insides of her thighs. "Violet," he whispers softly, trying his best to kiss each mark feather-light, running his fingers over the scars on her hips.
"Oh," she sighed with a content shiver.
After he'd made sure his softer affections were known, he moved back to her dress then, lifting each leg out of it the rest of the way before finally she was left in nothing but her shoes, underwear and jewelry. The shoes were the easy part next, just a flick and the little ballet flats– of course she'd forgo the heels– fell to the floor with a clack.
"Sit." He ordered her then, hovering at the edge of the bed as she complied, twisting so she could quickly clamp her legs shut, cover her breasts with her arm. There were scars below her breasts, all over her stomach and the top of her thigh. Some of the cover-up had worn off on her arms, too. "Drop your arm, Violet. You don't have to hide from me."
She bit her bottom lip again, looking timid and shy and it took him a moment to remember just how new to all of this the girl really was; not just being seeing her scars but seeing her at all. She'd never even been properly kissed before him, and now here she was half-naked and willing to let him fuck her when she obviously wasn't ready for that kind of thing yet.
Sighing, Logan got onto the bed with her then, tipping her chin up so she'd look at him. "We're not going to go all the way with this, Violet," he said, noticing the sudden look of relief in her eyes. "We won't do anything you're uncomfortable with, okay love?" She blinked at the term of endearment, before nodding her head softly. "Do you want to stop?" he reached up to her hair then, taking the few remaining pins out of it so the curls fell in rings down her back, trailing his fingers through the soft strands.
"No," she said softly, adjusting so her hair covered her chest and she wouldn't have to use her arm to conceal herself anymore. Instead she used both hands to pick at the seams of the comforter. "I just…what can we do?" She looked so innocent then; not young really– Violet had a way about her that was more than wise for her age even when she had he childish moments; it'd been the only reason he'd been able to fall for someone eleven years his junior– but just innocent and trusting and curious.
"I want to eat you out," he said without hesitance, smug at the startled look in her eyes. "Would you be ready for that?"
"I just want you to touch me," she said honestly, heat creeping into her cheeks.
"Where?" he asked, growing a bit irritated when she shook her head and wouldn't answer him. "Where do you want me to touch you, Violet?"
"Everywhere," she mumbled, and then glanced up at him. "And I want to touch you."
He groaned at that, letting his head fall into her shoulder. Her hair smelled like orchids and coconuts and its was relaxing, but not enough to make his dick stop throbbing from the way she'd said those words, so obvious with how she intended to touch him behind their tone.
"Okay," he said after a moment, nodding at her when she looked to him for confirmation. "Lay down."
She blinked, seemed wool-thick before she understood and laid back. The jewelry his brother had given her to wear clinked against her skin noisily. Without further thought, Logan leaned forward and unhooked both pieces, tossing them on the floor. Violet rewarded him with a soft kiss, reaching up to touch him but not before he grabbed both of her wrists in his own, knowing this wasn't going to work if she tried to touch him while he was touching her; at this point it'd be over sooner than it had started, he was so aching just from kissing her and smelling her and listening to her admit she wanted him.
"What…?" she whispered against his mouth, too stunned to speak as he unhooked his belt the rest of the way, weaving it around her wrists before she had the chance to realize what he was doing. "Logan? Logan."
"Shh, Violet," he said, fastening his belt to the headboard tightly. She tried to pull her arms down but it wouldn't move. "Just trust me."
She snorted at that, giving him a roll of her eyes and probably about ready to insult him. Any words turned into a startled moan though, the moment he pressed his hand up between her thighs, cupping her fully. She was hot and wet, even through her underwear. He groaned, leaning down to kiss her as he rocked his palm forward, no need for foreplay because she was already more than ready for him.
"Logan," she gasped, no longer embarrassed as she bared her breasts fully when arching off the bed. He took the ample opportunity to kiss them then, flicking his tongue out around one of her nipples and smirking when she gave a soft whine from the action, tugging against her restraints. "Logan, please."
"Who do you belong to, Violet?" he asked smugly, tracing lazy circles up and down the line of her underwear, laying kisses at the scars on her torso, little butterfly touches of his lips. "Just answer the question and I'll give you want you want, love."
She shook her head. "This is so stupid."
"Hmm," he hummed, letting his hand slide into the top of her underwear and stilling it there. "Is it now?"
She gasped, throwing her head back against the bed as there was obviously nowhere else for her to go and nothing else for her to do. "Yours," she said after a long moment, the sound muffled by her apparent irritation and mouth pressed to the inside of her upraised arm.
"I'm sorry, what was that? I can't quite hear you, love," he said, sucking on a particularly gruesome scar near her navel and earning a startled whine.
"Yours," she said. "I'm yours. Now please–please."
"There, now was that so hard?" he chuckled arrogantly, grabbing the edge of her underwear and pulling them down to tangle at her knees. The smell of her was still oh-so intoxicating; he licked his lips, kissing a small trail from her chest, south. He stopped at her hipbone, the skin paper-thin there and marred with red slits, one seeming only a week or two old.
He let himself touch her then, fingers sliding against her wet, hot and easy as he sank his teeth into her hip, tongue lapping at the immediately flow of blood. Violet let out a sharp sound, mewling when he slipped one finger inside of her slowly, in-out, in-out as she adjusted to him, hips lifting off the bed eventually while she panted, struggling at the want to use her hands.
"Logan," she moaned. "Oh fuck."
"That's it, Violet," he said softly, adding another finger into her. She cried out then, making him still as she winced, stretching around him. "It's okay, love. You're so good– so wet and hot and good…that's it." She bore down against his hand again, making small, helpless sounds as he let his thumb move to circle her clit. It was the hottest thing he'd ever heard in his life and he had to stop himself from grinding into the bed and coming in his shorts right there.
She was practically wanton, now that she was no longer embarrassed to have him see her bare and vulnerable, have him inside of her. Her crooked his finger softly, rubbing slow and firm circles as she thrashed under his touch, body moving away and then back again like she didn't know whether she wanted him to stop or keep going. He murmured encouragements to her the whole way, telling her how beautiful she was and how wet and how much he wanted her and, "Come on, Violet. Come for me. Come for me, love." It wasn't until he tucked his head into her chest, wrapped his mouth around her nipple and sucked that she finally fell to pieces for him, a half-silent cry on her lips followed by the murmur of his name.
He smiled smugly, letting her ride out the waves of pleasure before taking his fingers out of her, bringing them to his mouth and licking at them nonchalantly, humming appreciatively at the earthy taste of her, the crisp tang that sings right along with it. Violet watched him with wild and tired eyes, chest rising and falling like a humming bird's before he reached up and unfastened the belt, her wrists. There were welts on the soft skin there, a split cut on the left. He went to rub at them but she was already moving, mouth on his in some kind of overly eager kiss that made his head spin. He moaned as her tiny hand reached out, pressed down against his erection through his pants.
He made a soft sound of approval as she tugged his zipper down, got her hand into his underwear with a bit of work and grinned at the hitch in his breath when she wrapped her curious little fingers around his cock. It jerked and leaked in her hand, but Violet just tilted her head curiously before looking up at him with bashful eyes, cheeks turning red.
"I haven't done this before– how do you…?" she started.
"You don't have to Violet."
"I want to."
"Well, then, you just…" He wrapped a hand around her wrist to guide her then, the skin hot and swollen under his touch. She started in small strokes, grip a bit too lose and too dry. He pulled her hand out after a second, but before she could protest, held it towards her mouth. "I–um, it doesn't really work dry…"
Violet blinked, dawning in her eyes before she looked down and then back up. "What if I…" she reached towards the mess between her legs, half-paused and blushing. "Would that…?"
Logan was the one to blink this time. "Yeah," he said after a long moment. "God yes." He let out a shallow breath as she ran her hand between her thighs shyly, giving a little mewl as she was still probably sensitive after having come such a short time ago. The thought made him lick his lips, groan when she wrapped her hand back around his dick, tighter and wetter this time in little strokes.
It was obvious that she didn't really know what she was doing, but he didn't care, his mouth open and wet against her neck as he mumbled her name and small encouragements. She seemed to find a rhythm quickly after that, moving faster and harder just the way he needed it. It was over in no time at all after that, Logan coming hot and wet inside of his boxers against her hand, groaning into her skin and saying her name over and over and over. She let him ride out the aftershocks with little twists of her hand, before pulling it out and staring at the wetness on it, brow creased.
"Well," she finally said. "That was messy."
He laughed, leaning in to kiss her soundly on the mouth, tangling his fingers in her hair to hold her to him, licking the last taste of pomegranate off her lips. "Stay in my bed tonight," he said before he could stop himself. At this point, he didn't want to stop himself anyways.
"Okay," she said, only slight hesitation. "But I'm showering in my own room first."
"Deal," he said, pulling her down to lay on the bed with him. "In a couple minutes."
"Logan, I'm sticky," she protested.
"I could lick you clean, if you'd like," he said, waggling his brows suggestively.
She smacked his chest, body turning scarlet. "All this because you were jealous of some idiot who asked me to dance. Like anything would've happened anyways, you big block head."
"Block head, one of your more creative litanies."
"Shut up," she sighed, rolling over into his side, his arm automatically curling around her shoulders. The room was silent for a while then; he wondered whether or not she'd fallen asleep when she asked, "Are you…are you sure you like me for me, and not just for who I used to be?"
"I'm sure, Violet," he whispered. "There could be a hundred Persephone's, and I'd still only want you. We aren't those people anymore. We were once, but not now. And I want you in this life, not that one."
"I want you too," Violet said so softly he could barely hear her. "I just wish we'd met under better circumstances."
Guilt spiked his blood at that and he stared up at the ceiling blankly in hopes of it somehow being able to shake the feeling off. No matter how much affection she showed him, it would still never change the fact Logan had taken Violet against her will, or that he was using her for his own selfish benefit. She'd probably never forgive him for that, and he didn't know if he could forgive himself either.
