Owning Violet (The Fowler Sisters #1)(65)
“You’re getting my jeans wet,” I tell her. She’s beyond primed, grinding her * on my fly, rubbing against my dick like some sort of horny teenager.
I f*cking love it.
“Take them off, then,” she whispers and I don’t hesitate, tearing at the button fly so that the denim sags around my hips.
She opens her eyes, her gaze dropping to my lower body and warming with approval. “You’re not wearing any underwear.”
“Neither are you.” I reach inside the back pocket of my jeans and grab a condom, then shove them so they fall to my feet. I’m so eager to get inside her I don’t bother undressing completely. I’m f*cking her here. Now. I didn’t want to do it like this our first time, but f*ck it.
I want her too damn bad.
Violet reaches for the condom wrapper and tears it open, withdrawing the little ring. I watch with fascination as her sure fingers place it at the tip of my dick and she rolls the condom on, her fingers stroking, making my cock twitch. She wraps her hand tightly around my erection and strokes, her gaze lifting to meet mine, and I kiss her again. Devour her.
“Later,” she says when she breaks away from my seeking mouth, repeating what she said only a few moments ago, “I’m going to suck your cock until you come down my throat.”
Jesus. I never thought I’d hear Violet Fowler say that.
“Yeah?” I smash my hips to hers the moment her hand falls away from my cock and I wrap my fingers around the base, guiding it toward her body’s entrance. “Later I plan on tasting that sweet * again and making you come on my tongue.”
“Promise?” she says, a little moan escaping her when I push just the tip of my cock inside her tight, wet heat.
“Fuck yeah,” I mutter, breathing deep, trying to control myself so I don’t just slam inside of her and take her like I’m some sort of overbearing grunt.
I bet Lawrence did that to her. Probably didn’t care about her orgasm, probably didn’t think about her pleasure. Jealousy tears at me, making me see red, and I slowly push inside, ready to erase her memory of every single time that * had his dick inside of her. Until all she can remember, all she can think about, is me.
Me.
Chapter Nineteen
Violet
He’s huge and filling me so completely, I have to take a deep breath and release it slowly for my body to accommodate his thick length. I wrap my arms tight around his neck and press my mouth against his smooth, hard shoulder. Kissing him there. Sinking my teeth into his flesh until I hear him hiss out a harsh breath in response.
I’m completely surrounded by Ryder. He’s wrapped all around me, inside me, his mouth at my forehead, his cock throbbing within my body. Cautiously, he starts to move, pulling almost all the way out before he pushes back inside, and I close my eyes, savoring the pleasure of him filling me.
“Feels amazing. Fucking you,” he murmurs against my forehead before he slips his fingers beneath my chin and tilts my face up so I have to look at him. “Tell me, Violet. Tell me what you feel.”
“Good. You’re so big,” I say obediently, loving when he commands me. Sex with Zachary was nothing like this. Nothing. Sex with the other men I’ve been with was nothing like this either. I feel like Ryder casts me under some sort of magical spell where I have no choice but to do as he says.
I’m starting to realize there’s nothing wrong with letting a man control me sexually, as long as I demand my satisfaction in return.
“So quiet and proper at the office,” he says, his deep voice sending goose bumps scattering all over my skin. I lift away from him, pressing my back against the door, and he touches my throat with his fingers, lightly at first, and then with more pressure. As if he’s holding me captive. Fear flutters in my belly as my gaze meets his and I see the lust there. The heat. All of it aimed directly at me. “And such a wicked little tease when you’re alone with me.”
Should I be insulted by his words? Somehow … I’m not. They send a fresh wave of arousal through me, and my inner walls contract around his cock. “Only for you,” I whisper.
His eyes flare with an unknown emotion and he leans in, his mouth close to mine, his fingers still locked around my throat. His cock fills me so completely, his hips pressed to mine. We’re chest to chest, my legs around his hips, ankles digging into his firm backside. “Really?”
I nod, unsure of how he wants me to respond, what would please him. A shaky breath escapes me and he releases his grip on my throat, his fingers drifting across my sensitive skin, teasing at the spot where my pulse beats rapidly. “No one else,” I say, my voice firm, my gaze direct, “makes me feel like you do.”
He goes completely still, his eyes hard, his normally full mouth firming into a thin line. He slips his hand around my nape and kisses me, his tongue brutal as he tangles it with mine, his body mimicking the movements of his mouth.
This isn’t what I would call gentle lovemaking. Far from it. He f*cks me brutally, thrusting into me again and again, so hard my body knocks against the door with his every push. He goes deep. Deeper. I watch with fascination as he takes me, his every muscle strained, his eyes sliding closed, a low grunt leaving him with every twitch of his hips.
I run my hands down his sweat-dampened, thick-muscled chest, absorbing those beautiful, fascinating tattoos. The revelation of his body surprised me. Pleased me. And the nipple rings …