Owning Violet (The Fowler Sisters #1)(111)

“Don’t cry,” I whisper against her hair. “I’m not worth your tears.”

“Yes, you are. You’re worth all I have to give. Don’t you see that?” She lifts her head and I push the hair away from her forehead, my gaze roaming over her every sweet feature. I can’t believe she’s back in my arms. I’m never going to let her go. “I hate when you say you’re not worthy of me.”

“I’m not,” I say firmly.

“Yes, you are,” she says just as firmly.

“Can you forgive me, Violet?” I pause, running my index finger across each of her eyebrows, down the slope of her nose. I want to memorize everything about her. “For breaking your heart?”

She stares me straight in the eyes, her gaze unwavering. “As long as you promise never to do it again.”

I kiss her forehead, her cheek, along her jaw. The sharp intake of her breath encourages me and I kiss the tip of her nose, either side of her lush mouth. Teasing her, teasing myself. “I promise,” I whisper against her lips just before I take them.

Violet melts into me, sliding her arms around my neck, her body pressed firmly to mine, her full breasts crushed against my chest. I slide my hand down, over her backside, devouring her mouth with my lips and tongue and teeth as I slip beneath the hem of her dress and touch the bare skin of her ass. My fingers toy with the lace of her thong and she moans, her lips falling away from mine.

“I missed you,” she whispers as I trace the crack of her ass with the very tip of my finger, making her shiver. Her mouth is at my neck and I’m hard in a second. “So much.”

“Never again will I let you go.” I grip her ass, my touch possessive, my emotions all over the f*cking place. This woman belongs to me and no one else. “You’re mine.”

I mean it. For once in my life, I f*cking mean it. Something—someone—is more valuable to me than any possession. She is my possession. An obsession.

One I revel in gladly.

“Yes,” she murmurs against my throat, licking and sucking at my skin. “I love you, Ryder.”

I close my eyes, trying my best to keep my shit under control. But her words nearly bring me to my knees. She’s pushing me. Prodding. She makes me want to give in to my baser needs and take her like the animal she turns me into every single time we’re together. “Violet.”

“Hmm?” The sexy hum against my neck makes my eyes cross. Her hands sliding down my chest and slipping under my shirt to touch my stomach make my muscles tense. This is happening too damn fast, when I want to savor her. Linger over every inch of her fragrant skin. Absorb her into my body so she’ll never, ever leave me again.

“You’re driving me f*cking crazy,” I mutter, grabbing hold of her shoulders so I can wrench her away from me. I need the distance to gain some control before I rush this and f*ck her where she stands.

The wicked smile that curves her lips surprises me. “Good.”

“Good?” I frown, realizing she’s putting up a fight. That she wants to cross me.

And my girl gets off on this.

“Remember when you told me you would wreck me?” she asks.

My frown deepens. I don’t like having my words tossed back at me, especially when I said them in a moment of anger. I’d been furious that night. Furious that she wanted me despite all my threats, the awful way I treated her, until my fury morphed into something else. Something that scared the hell out of me.

I’d found the woman who seemed made for me. Just for me.

“You don’t really wreck me, not in a bad way. I’m broken without you. I … I need what you do to me, what you do for me. The things you say, how you touch me. I crave it.” She closes her eyes and I bet if it were brighter, I’d see the familiar blush steal across her cheeks. “Wreck me, Ryder. Tear me apart and put me back together again in the way only you know how. Make me feel safe.”

I stare at her, shocked at her words, at the request she’s making. She’s giving herself to me. She wants what only I do to her, what only I can make her feel.

When I don’t say anything she touches my cheek, her fingers tentative against my skin. “Please?”

I can’t resist. I’ve never been able to resist. And now that she’s given me permission …

Stepping away from her, I watch as confusion flashes across her face, along with fear. She’s afraid I’m rejecting her.

She has no f*cking idea how wrong she is.

“Take off your clothes,” I demand, loving how pretty she looks in the pale yellow dress but more determined to see her out of it. “Now, Violet,” I tack on when she doesn’t move.

My voice, my demand, pushes her into action and she reaches to her side, undoing the zipper near her waist, just under her arm. The dress loosens, revealing the pale lacy straps of her bra, and then she’s tugging it off completely, pulling it up and over her head and tossing it to the ground with an eagerness I can practically feel. She stands before me in blush pink lace and nude-colored heels. Mouthwateringly beautiful and all mine, ripe for the plucking.

Her nipples are hard little points, poking against the thin lace of her bra, and her skin is flushed with arousal. I’ve never seen a prettier sight.

“Take it all off,” I say, my voice low, my thoughts dark and sinister. I would never, ever hurt her and she knows this, but I can’t deny I like it rough. I like seeing the flash of fear in her eyes just before the pleasure comes. I love hearing her sharp gasps and harsh cries.