Violet Purple found herself back at the club. The music was loud again, the bass pounding in her bones, while the lights strobed in disorienting reds and blacks.
Right now she was on Asher's lap, riding him like she was an addict and he was the high she chased. Asher's head was tipped back against the plush couch, his jaw clenched and mouth slack in ecstasy, while his hands gripped her hips tightly.
His slitted pupils were blown wide, devouring her as she moaned, grinding harder, and harder like nothing else mattered. That was until blood tickled from his nose.
"What the fuck?" Asher mumbled, lifting his hand to wipe it away.
Violet saw it and didn't care. Even when his body suddenly jerked beneath her, spasming uncontrollably, she didn't stop. Her hips kept moving with feverish want.
