Chapter 24

TW: 🌶️🌶️🌶️

VICTORIA –

The event ran smoothly, just as planned. I drove us back to my apartment afterward – it’s closer to the club, and the night has already been long enough. The city lights bleed into the dark living room, painting everything in soft, electric hues.

Avery stands by the floor-to-ceiling window when we arrive, city lights spilling across her bare shoulders. Her arms are crossed loosely around herself, still wrapped in that black silk dress that clings like memory. Outside, rain glosses the skyline. Inside, everything feels still.

I pour us something strong before heading to bed – whiskey, neat. No words yet. Just the sound of liquid against glass and the hush that follows long nights and longer thoughts.

When I join her, I hand her one of the glasses. She takes it with a soft, grateful, “Thank you.”

My free hand finds her waist, drawing her closer until my chin rests on her shoulder. My breath brushes the side of her neck, and I feel the tension leave her body almost immediately.

“You were perfect tonight,” I whisper near her ear.

She smiles faintly. “Me? You’re the one who did all the hard work, Miss Vale.”

I hum at that — a low, quiet sound. My mind drifts back to the club, to the sight of her speaking with Selene.

“I saw you talking to one of the dommes earlier.”

Her lips twitch. “Did you now?” she says, amused.

“Were you curious about her work?”

She doesn’t answer right away. She takes a sip, thinking. “I was,” she admits finally. “But not curious about Selene, though. I know you both do the same kind of work, and I was just…”

“Informing yourself?” I tease gently.

That earns a quiet laugh. “Maybe I was just trying to understand what I’m getting into before I…” She stops, her voice tapering off.

“Before you…?” I prompt, brushing my thumb over her hip.

Her next breath trembles slightly. “Before I ask you to show me what it’s all about,” she says, shy but sure.

A smile pulls at the corner of my mouth. The image from earlier slips back into my mind — Avery on her knees before me, bare, open, trusting. It sparks something deep and wordless. A want that hums beneath my skin.

“You want me to show you what it means?” I ask quietly.

She turns in my arms, her hand finding my hip, her eyes meeting mine without hesitation now. “Would it be wrong if I wanted that?”

I brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear, my thumb lingering against her jaw. “No,” I murmur. “It wouldn’t be wrong.”

I let my smile soften. “I’d be honored to show you.”

I take the glass from her hands. I set both ours on the side table, the soft thud a final period to the world outside this room.

My hands come up to her shoulders, softly kneading the remaining tension from her muscles. My fingers find the thin straps of her dress. I pause there, my thumbs resting against her skin, and wait.

Her eyes never leave mine. There is no fear in them, only a quiet permission, a steady trust.

I slide the straps down her arms. The fabric whispers, yielding to gravity, and her dress slides down her body in a silken rush, pooling at her feet. I let my gaze travel over her. The lace of her bra does little to conceal the way her nipples have hardened into tight peaks. A slight, self-conscious shift of her thighs is the only sound.

I reach behind her, my fingers finding the clasp of her bra. The latch gives way with a quiet click. I let it fall, joining the dress on the floor.

My thumbs find the waistband of her panties. I hook my fingers into the lace and slowly, deliberately, pull them down. I sink with them, lowering myself until I am the one kneeling before her. I look up, my hands stroking softly up the outside of her legs, over the curve of her hips. I lean forward and press a kiss to her lower belly, a slow, open-mouthed worship against her skin.

I reach for a pillow from the couch and place it on the floor between us. My eyes find hers again.

“Kneel,” I say, the word soft but clear.

She hesitates for only a second, a quick intake of breath, before she lowers herself onto the pillow. Now we are both kneeling, our faces level. Her chest rises and falls, her breathing heavier now, waiting. Obeying.

I stand up slowly, my movements fluid. Now I am looking down at her as she gazes up at me. I begin to undress, my eyes locked with hers. I peel away my own layers, the fabric falling away until I am bare before her. There is no wall, no armor left.

She looks at my body with a kind of awe. Her hand lifts, hovering near my thigh, her eyes asking a silent question.

I nod softly.

Her palm settles on my skin, a tentative, reverent touch. She strokes my leg, her hand moving up, over my hip, and finally cupping the curve of my backside. I close my eyes for a moment, surrendering to the sensation, a profound intimacy I have denied myself for so long.

When I open them again, hers are waiting.

I take a step back and lower myself onto the couch. Avery shifts closer on her knees, her hands returning to my legs. She leans in, and her lips follow the path her hands took, kissing every inch of my skin. My own breath hitches, my body awakening to her every touch.

And then she asks, her voice a hushed whisper, “Can I taste you?”

I look at her, my eyes dark with a want so deep it feels like need. My hand comes up, resting against the column of her throat before sliding up to cradle the back of her head. My fingers curl into her hair.

And I nod.

I give her permission.

***

AVERY –

My breath hitches the moment she agrees.

I didn’t truly think she would say yes, but there she is, leaning back on the couch, her body an open offering. Her nod is all the permission I need to take what I’ve been aching for.

I don’t hesitate.

My lips find her legs again. I kiss my way from the delicate skin of her knees, up the strong line of her thighs. She shifts, settling back and opening her legs for me, and the scent of her – musky and sweet – fills the space between us. She’s already soaked.

I wrap my arms around her legs, anchoring myself, and slowly bend down.

My tongue flicks out, and her taste hits me like a live wire. Fuck. She tastes so good it pulls a moan from deep in my throat, the vibration humming against her. I don’t hold back. I lick, I circle, I suck her clit, learning the rhythm that makes her breath catch.

By the sounds she’s making, she’s enjoying every second. Her hand is still fisted in my hair, a vital anchor, and I love the sharp pressure of it.

I think she’s already close. Her grip tightens, and she pulls me harder against her. Her hips buck against my mouth, a desperate, involuntary rhythm, and I don’t stop. I won’t stop. Not until I feel her shiver. Not until I hear her breath hitch, stop, and then release in a long, soft moan.

A quiet, unwilling “fuck” escapes her lips, and it fuels me. I work harder, my tongue relentless, circling that one perfect spot until I feel the shudder start deep within her. Until her orgasm crawls up her spine and takes over her whole body, leaving her panting and spent beneath me.

Even then, I don’t stop.

I kiss her softly, my lips trailing from her trembling centre, up over the flutter of her belly, between her breasts, and finally, finding her mouth. I kiss her, letting her taste herself on my lips – a final, intimate seal on her surrender. Her arms wrap around me, strong and sure, pulling me onto her lap until I’m straddling her hips. She deepens the kiss, her tongue meeting mine, and for a long moment, there is only the shared heat of our bodies and the salt-sweet taste of us both.

I break the kiss, my lips brushing against hers as I whisper, “Are you okay?”

She nods, her breath warm on my skin. “Yes. I’m more than okay.” A smile curves her mouth against mine before she kisses me again, slow and deep.

Her hands slide from my hips, pulling me tighter against her. Then her right hand slips between us. Her fingers find my folds, tracing them with a feather-light touch. I’m dripping already; hearing her, tasting her, has left me soaked. I hear the smile in her voice. “You’re eager, aren’t you?”

I can only nod, pushing my thighs wider against her hand, a silent, desperate plea. Please – I need your fingers inside me. I need to come while I’m fucking your hand.

It’s as if she heard the thought, because in one smooth, certain motion, she slips two fingers deep inside me.

A sharp gasp escapes my lips. My hips grind against her hand, and her fingers curl just right, stroking a spot that sends overwhelming pleasure burning through my veins. I won’t be able to hold on for long.

She thrusts harder, deeper, her rhythm matching the frantic shortening of my breath. She knows I’m close.

She can feel it in the way my pussy tightens arounds her fingers.

“Why don’t you come for me, darling,” she whispers against my ear.

And it’s all it takes.

My orgasm ripples through me, violent and sweet. My hips buck against her hand, my back arching, and then I bury my face in the crook of her neck as I ride the waves of sensation searing through my body.

Only when my hips finally still and my breathing begins to even out does she slowly pull her fingers from me.

I shift back a bit, looking at her. She’s smiling a crooked, mischievous smile

And then she does the one thing I didn’t know could make me come undone all over again.

She brings her fingers, glistening and soaked with my arousal, to her mouth and sucks them clean.

A low moan vibrates in her throat as she does it.

And my breath cuts off entirely.

***

VICTORIA –

The room is still. The kind of stillness that follows after everything has already been said, done, felt. The rain has stopped, but the air still carries that post-storm heaviness — damp and quiet, clinging to the windows.

Avery sleeps pressed against me, her back curved into my chest. One of my arms is draped over her waist, the other tucked beneath the pillow. Her breathing is slow and even, her body warm against mine. Juno’s somewhere at the foot of the bed, barely a sound except the occasional flick of her tail.

I should sleep. God knows I should. But I can’t.

My mind replays the night in slow, vivid fragments — the soft command in my voice, the look in Avery’s eyes when she asked for permission, the way she didn’t flinch or hesitate. She took what she wanted, asked for what she needed. And I gave her everything I could.

I’d forgotten what that kind of trust felt like. To let someone in completely, to lower the guard I’ve built brick by brick over the years. And somehow, Avery did it without even realizing.

She moved through every wall I thought I’d sealed shut, every defense I swore I’d never drop again. And tonight… I didn’t just let her in. I wanted her there.

I brush a strand of hair from her shoulder, tucking it behind her ear. She stirs, murmurs something incoherent, then settles again, deeper into sleep. Her skin is still warm, marked faintly by my hands, by the things we didn’t say out loud.

A small, helpless smile touches my lips before fading again. Because underneath that quiet satisfaction, there’s something else – a hum. A warning.

I can feel it like a shift in the air. The same instinct that’s kept me alive this long. The leak at the club still hasn’t been contained. There’s information out there – about me, about what I do, about the kind of people who trust me to keep their secrets safe. And if whoever’s behind it decides to make a move, it won’t just be my reputation on the line.

It’ll be the people around me.

I glance down at Avery – peaceful, unaware, the faintest trace of a smile resting on her lips. She’s been through enough already. I won’t let any of it touch her.

But I know better than to believe peace lasts.

Tonight might have been a rare kind of mercy. Tomorrow will demand something else.

I tighten my arms around her, pull her a little closer, and close my eyes – not to sleep, but to listen. To the quiet. To her heartbeat. To the faint pulse of danger waiting somewhere beyond the dark.