Owning Violet (The Fowler Sisters #1)(58)

But with Violet, it feels like … more. Like I want to use and keep and possess and mark and f*ck until I can’t see straight. She consumes me. Confuses me. Exhilarates me.

I hate it.

I want more of it. More of her.

She settles her hands on my shoulders as if she needs to hold on for fear she’ll slip to the floor, her fingers gripping me tight. “Just like that,” she whispers as she tilts her head to the side, giving me better access.

“Is that all you want?” I brush my nose against her neck, along her ear. She’s wearing her hair down, the long, wavy strands tickling my face, and I breathe deep the scent of her shampoo, soaking it in. “Or do you want more?”

“More,” she says without hesitation. “So much more.”

“We’ve hardly done anything,” I tell her, which is the truth.

“I know.” And I can tell she mourns that fact. “But we can’t do anything here. Anyone could find us.”

“I doubt that.” I kiss her, just behind her ear, letting my lips linger before I dart out my tongue to lick at her skin. A shiver moves through her and she tightens her fingers around my shoulders. “I’d give anything to have you sprawled naked on that table,” I whisper. “Your legs spread wide open so I can see just how wet you are for me.”

“Oh God.” She swallows so hard I hear it, and then her hands are scrambling, shoving my suit jacket off my shoulders, down my arms, so I shake it off my arms and let it drop to the floor. “I want to see you.”

I haven’t stood naked in front of this woman yet and when I do, she’s in for a big surprise. But I’m not going to strip completely now. I’m not going to take that big of a risk. “Not yet,” I tell her, stepping away from her eager hands. “Have patience.”

She adjusts herself so she’s sitting on the edge of the conference table, pushing the chairs on either side of her away before she braces her hands on the edge of the marble tabletop. The lusty glow in her eyes is unmistakable, and I wonder if she gets as overcome as I do every time we’re in each other’s presence.

I’m going to guess by the way she’s behaving that’s a yes.

Crossing her legs, the skirt of her dress rides up, offering me a tantalizing glimpse of her slender thighs. She notices where my gaze drops and she hikes up her skirt farther, practically to her hips.

“What are you doing?” I ask amusedly.

“Offering myself to you,” she answers with no shame. She is definitely acting like a woman possessed and I f*cking love it. “You said you wanted to get me naked on the table …”

“Violet.” The stern note in my voice makes her pause in her movements, her eyes going wide. “I’m not going to f*ck you for the first time in this room, on that table.”

She looks downright disappointed, my newfound little hussy. “But I thought …”

“I’d love to see you naked on the table, most definitely,” I continue, cutting her off. “But I want to watch you while you …”

“While I what?” she asks eagerly.

“Touch yourself.”

Chapter Seventeen

Violet

He did not just ask me to do that … did he?

Oh yes. He did.

“Ryder …” I shake my head, not sure how I can say this. I have never in my life masturbated in front of a man. Not even Zachary, and he was the man I thought I wanted to marry. It never even crossed my mind to share such an incredibly intimate moment like that with someone before.

“Are you too shy, Violet?” The tone of his voice tells me he doubts I can go through with it. “Such a shame. I would’ve loved to see exactly what you do to yourself to make you come, but I guess I won’t be so lucky.”

And until I heard that daring tone, his slightly condescending words, I would have said there was no way it could ever happen. Not with what played out between us earlier and how angry he made me. Then with the awful news Father delivered to me, which I still haven’t fully absorbed, and the gossip that surrounds me, all of it. I’ve had an exhausting day. One I’d rather forget about altogether.

“Haven’t you ever wanted to just let go?” he asks in that same daring tone.

No. I never have. Not until he suggested it. When I’m with Ryder, it’s as if I forget myself. Lose my inhibitions, lose all coherent thought, and all I can do is feel. All I want to do is feel. Feel him. His hands all over me, his mouth on mine, his lips wrapped around my nipple, his tongue licking against my …

“I’m not going to judge your performance,” he says. “Think of this as a gift … for yourself.”

I frown at him, confused.

“And a gift for me,” he adds with a small smile.

His words make me realize that touching myself for Ryder, sharing this very intimate act with him, could bring us closer. Could also bring me strength, something I desperately need right now, what with everything else going on in my life.

I hop off the edge of the table and turn so my back is to him. Holding up my hair away from my neck and back, I ask from over my shoulder, “Unzip, please?”

He doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t say anything, either, and I wonder if he’s preparing himself to be disappointed in me. That my self-consciousness is still determined to defeat me drives me crazy.