Work Text:
When I return to our room after my classes are over, Xaden is fast asleep.
Smiling to myself, I drop the bag with my books and notes beside the desk before sitting down at the edge of the bed. He only wears a thin shirt and underwear, and from the way his clothes and boots are still uncharacteristically scattered around the room, I get the impression that he’d only meant to lie down and relax for a moment. But obviously, being on patrol for days is more exhausting than he wants to admit.
My eyes settle on his face, soaking in this rare moment where his features are relaxed and not set in his usual guarded front. He looks so… so peaceful. Exactly how I’m feeling, in a way. Not in the ‘Everything’s fine, we don’t need to worry about the war looming over our heads’ kind of way, but…
During Cat’s challenge earlier and with the words she’d thrown at my head, I’d been sure to never know this kind of peace again, this assurance when it comes to Xaden and his feelings for me. But what he did in the assembly room, on his throne… A pleasant shudder runs down my spine at the memories. At what he’d done with his hands and mouth, but even more so at his words.
It’s me he wants, I know that now. He never loved Cat, only me. No matter how beautiful she might be or how powerful or how cunning, she has no influence on what Xaden and I have. He’s never been on his knees before her, and while she bragged about knowing how he tastes, he never tasted her. There’s really only one thing she has on me, and that’s easily rectifiable.
With a smirk playing around my lips, I crawl onto the bed. It’s a good thing he already got rid of most of his clothes, making this so much easier for me. I breathe a kiss against his lips, sending a low “I love you, too” into his sleeping mind, then crawl down until my head is level with his crotch.
Peppering the bulge in his underwear with light open-mouthed kisses, I can’t help but grin at how he stirs beneath, how his breathing quickens, even in his sleep. I know the effect I have on him, he assured me many times. But seeing it so clearly, especially after his declaration earlier, still hit differently.
He’s mine. Xaden Riorson is mine, and not just for this night, not just within these walls. He’s mine, forever, just like I’m entirely his. No matter what happens, what other truths might wait for us, this will never change.
I keep nuzzling and fondling his cock and balls through his underwear until he’s hard and a tiny wet spot appears in the fabric. I’d expected Xaden to have woken up by now, but unless he’s more patient than I thought and a very good actor, he’s still asleep, only the occasional groan rumbling in his chest. Somehow, that thought makes another kind of warmth spread through my chest. That, even asleep, he knows and trusts me enough to not wake up, that there’s no need for him to defend himself. Even when I pull down his waistband enough to free his cock, his eyes stay closed, his body somewhat relaxed, only the softest of gasps falling off his lips as I wrap my fingers around him, stroking lightly.
With my lower lip tucked between my teeth, I watch Xaden as I move my hand along his length. Every rise of his chest as his breathing turns harsher, every twitch of his brows, how his lips move without forming words. My own pulse quickens when he hardens further in my grip, another drop of pre-come forming at the tip. I’m tempted to lick it off but hold back for now, instead swiping my thumb over his head, spreading the moisture.
“Ngghh… Violet…”
I freeze at Xaden’s mumbling and glance back up at him, expecting to see his eyes open. But he’s still asleep, his head turned to the side, a low string of moans and gasps followed by my name again his only reactions. Is he… dreaming about me?
A slow grin spreads across my face. It’s not as if he hasn’t said so before, but this is still different. Further boosting my confidence after Cat tried so hard to crush it.
I keep stroking his cock, but with an entirely new feeling to it. At some point, I’m sure he’s going to wake. But until then, I can absolutely sweeten his dreams a little more.
“Yeah,” I breathe, my hand moving up and down his length more sensually. “I’m here.”
Xaden’s groans intensify and I move my hand a tiny bit quicker. “Vi… Violet…. ssa-ay with me…” he mumbles, and I feel my heart clenching for him. Maybe I’m not the only one with buried insecurities here. But that’s a topic for another day.
“I will,” I promise, letting my breath fan out against the heated skin of his shaft. “I’ll stay with you, no matter what.”
“Vi…” he groans again, a shudder running down his body.
From the corner of my eye, I see his fingers twitching, the muscles in his arms and legs tensing and relaxing. I’m pretty sure it won’t take long now until he wakes up for real, so I stop dragging it out. I wet my lips, then wrap them around his head, sweeping my tongue along the underside, over the tip. My eyes flutter shut as his taste fills my mouth, tard but good, and so very much Xaden that I could weep.
“Fuck… Violet?” This time, Xaden’s voice is noticeably more alert, though still gravelly. And sure enough, when I glance up at him again, his eyes are wide open, his lips parted in surprise.
I don’t stop.
Instead, I hold his gaze and take more of him into my mouth. His breath catches, chest rising, and he blinks as if he’s trying to decide whether this is still part of a dream or if I’ve actually crawled between his legs in the middle of his nap.
“Vi,” he rasps, lifting himself onto his elbows but doesn’t pull away. His hand comes to rest gently at the back of my head, not guiding, not forcing—just there, trembling. “You… nngghaa—don’t have to…”
I pull off slowly with a wet sound that makes his jaw clench. “I know. But I want to do this. So lie back and relax.”
He hesitates, but I watch the resistance melt the moment I lick him from base to tip, then swallow him down again, this time deeper. His groan is broken, feral, so unguarded it causes a tingle between my thighs, forcing me to press them tight. This is about him.
“Fuck, you feel… Violet… fuck—” His head drops back with a thud, his hand moving up above his head to clutch at the headboard. “You’re going to ruin me.”
Well… that’s the point.
I take my time with him, letting the moment stretch, savoring every inch of him, of this gift I’ve claimed for myself. I move slowly at first—teasing, worshipful—suckling on his tip and letting my tongue swirl around it as I stroke his length with my hand, up and down. Drawing my mouth along him in smooth, steady strokes, only to pull back and trace lazy circles with my tongue just beneath the head.
Every flick, every shift in pressure, earns me a new sound from him—a hiss through clenched teeth, a low moan that curls heat in my belly, or the sharp gasp when I do something he doesn’t expect. And every grunt, every groan from above me only spurs me on more.
I take him deeper, just shy of my throat, and he groans again, low and urgent. His hand in my hair is trembling, and I can feel how hard he’s fighting to not simply shove me down and take, to let me do this at my own pace. Because there’s no fucking way I could take all of him down my throat.
Not without a lot of practice.
Still, he can’t keep his hips from jerking once, then again, small involuntary thrusts that don’t go deep, but show better than anything how his famous control is crumbling. Like he’s fighting the instinct to move—to take—but he doesn't and instead gives in. To me.
It’s addictive in the best way possible.
With avid attention to his reactions, his face, I let him slide into my mouth, trying for a tiny bit deeper with every stroke. I love the weight of him on my tongue, the texture, the drops of pre leaking from him. The sense of power it gives me, to have him unravel beneath me when all I’m doing is loving him with my mouth and my hands and my unrelenting attention.
“Oh, fuck… Vi!” he pants, and his voice sounds like something raw—frayed at the edges, like he’s losing the battle against himself. “You’re going to be my undoing, I swear...”
Good.
I keep going, slowly building the pace, just going by instinct and guided by his reactions. He starts moving with me now, having lost the battle against himself, hips rolling up to meet me with growing desperation. It’s not rough, not fast—it’s just needy. Honest. His body can’t help but respond.
And, gods, I fucking love it.
Because Xaden Riorson—the powerful shadow wielder, the fierce leader of a whole rebellion, who is always so composed, so ruthless, so tightly reined in—is completely undone right now. For me.
He’s panting harder now, breath ragged, sweat beading along his chest, his whole body taut with restraint that’s starting to slip. His hand tightens in my hair, his arm twitching as if to push. But before he can, the hand is suddenly gone and he’s clutching at the sheets, next to me instead, urgent, tearing.
“Violet!” he groans, drawn out and deep, like he’s pleading for mercy.
Smirking around him as best I can, I shift, angling deeper, and feel him pulse against my tongue, in the back of my throat. My eyes sting with tears from the pressure, but I still hold him there—devouring him—because I know how much it affects him, can see it in the way his eyes widen, all dark and haze, how his arms shake and his abdominals tremble. And when I pull back, saliva clinging to my lips and his cock, he all but whimpers.
I pause just long enough to meet his gaze. He looks wrecked. Flushed. Wide-eyed. Vulnerable in a way he never shows anyone but me. I smile at him, wide and open—and lean in to take him into my throat again.
This time, I don’t stop, push him deep again and again, only coming up to breathe and to give my throat time to recover before I take him again. I’m still far from taking all of him, but I don’t have to. Not when Xaden is the picture of wrecked. The knuckles on both his hands have turned white with how tightly he’s holding onto the headboard, the sheets, as if they’re all that keeps him steady, his back arched off the bed with how taut he became. He’s groaning, howling, yet still lets me do as I please, ruining him.
“Vi—shit—Violet, stop,” he eventually curses, breathless, hoarse, desperate. “You don’t have to swallow, I can—Fuck!—I can finish somewhe—”
I cut him off with a slight shake of my head. “I want to taste you.” I purr into his mind.
That does it.
His whole body locks up as I suck him hard, tight, fast—stroking with my mouth and hand in tandem. He’s loud now, cursing and shouting, no restraint left. His hips buck, his spine bows, and then—
“Violet… Fuck! I’m—”
He comes with a shout so deep and loud I feel it in my core. I swallow everything he gives me, not stopping until he’s shaking, panting. Wrecked.
When I finally pull back, he’s sprawled on the bed, one arm flung over his eyes. . A thin sheen of sweat covers his gorgeous chest, his entire body glistening with it, and he’s heaving, his cock softly twitching against his stomach.
Satisfied, I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and crawl up over him, kissing the hollow of his throat. His hand finds my waist, pulls me in close.
“Fuck,” he mutters hoarsely. “That was… just… fuck!” He chuckles weakly. “Remind me to fall asleep around you more often.”
I smirk against his skin. “I just might.” Giggling as well, I cuddle against him, basking in how still he is against me, utterly boneless. “And you’re welcome,” I hum.
Xaden returns the sound, his entire body vibrating with it. “And where was this coming from,” he asks a bit later, still sounding gravelly. “Not that I’m complaining. Because, fucking shit, Vi, I’m not. That was absolutely mind-blowing. But..” He trails off, and I can feel the question hovering between us.
I shrug. “Told you I don’t like not reciprocating,” I murmur. “And I’ve never sucked you off before despite you doing down on me all the time. Didn’t seem fair.”
He lets out a small grunt, then shifts a little to look at my face. “But… that’s not all of it, is it?”
Biting my lip, I avert my gaze. How does he always know me so well?
“What is it?”
Sighing, I give in. There’s no point in hiding this from him, and I don’t want to hide it anyways. I don’t want any secrets to stand between us, especially not one as inconsequential as this one. “It’s… nothing important,” I mutter, tracing a random pattern onto his chest. “Just… just something Cat mentioned earlier.”
This has him alarmed, and he sits up, pulling me with him. “What? Did she come at you again? I swear, if she—”
“No, she didn’t,” I interrupt him quickly. “It was something she said earlier, during our fight.”
Xaden frowns. “I… don’t understand. I thought we’d cleared that up. There’s only you for me, always has been and always will be. Whatever she said, she’s wrong. I’ve never felt anything for her, and I’m certainly not going to get back together with her, ever. You are the bravest and smartest person I know, with a stronger will than anyone I know. She is nothing against you.”
Warmth spreads across my cheeks, and I lean in closer to him. “Yeah, I know that’s how you feel,” I mumble against his jaw. “And I’m not worried about her anymore. But still, there was one point where she wasn’t wrong.”
Xaden’s hands tighten where they hold my waist. “And what’s that?”
I breathe a kiss against his neck, smiling. “That she knew how you taste and I didn’t.”
Xaden stills—then bursts out laughing. “That’s what you were jealous about?”
Smirking, I shake my head. “Not anymore, no.”