Owning Violet (The Fowler Sisters #1)(91)

“Not your usual style. I thought I preferred your legs bare. Easy access, you know.” I slip my hand up her thigh, the silky feel of her stockings adding a sensual friction I can definitely appreciate. Her breath catches, making me smile. “But these are very interesting.”

“I’m glad you approve,” she says as my hand slips beneath her skirt, feeling the bare skin of her naked upper thigh.

“Thigh highs?” I push her skirt up to reveal that indeed, she’s wearing thigh-high stockings. I trace the wide band of lace, my finger coming perilously close to the front of her black panties. “Little hooks and a garter belt probably would’ve done me in, though.”

Her cheeks flush pink. “I’ll remember that for next time.”

She fidgets on my lap, making me f*cking hard, and I clamp my arm tight around her waist, trying to keep her in place. “That I can still make you blush after everything we’ve done together blows my mind.” I slide my hand over the front of her panties and discover they’re soaked. No surprise.

Her hips lift, a subtle indication that she wants more, and I oblige, slipping my fingers beneath her panties and rubbing against her. “You like that?”

She nods and sinks her teeth into her lower lip again.

I shift lower, plunging into her drenched folds, inserting my index finger inside her body. “Feels so good you can’t speak?”

She nods again, her eyes sliding closed when I start to f*ck her with my finger in earnest. I press my forehead to the side of her head, my mouth at her ear, and I watch my hand move beneath the black lace of her panties. It looks hot. Forbidden. The way she’s moving with me, the sound of my fingers working her creamy *, her quickening breaths …

“You’re close, aren’t you.” I bite her earlobe and she squeals. “Say it.”

“I-I’m close.”

“Beg me to make you come.” I stop moving my hand.

“Please.” She whimpers when I flick her clit with my thumb. She’s a pro at this now. I’ve made her beg me to let her come time and again. “Please, Ryder. I need you. Make me come.”

“I’m going to f*ck you on my desk,” I whisper in her ear as I slowly, deliberately start to thrust my fingers within her body again. “Would you like that?”

“Yesss,” she hisses.

“I don’t have any condoms, though.” My hand stills and so does she as her gaze meets mine. “Are you …”

“On the pill?” She nods. “Yes.”

“I’m clean.” Excitement builds within me. I’ve never had sex without a condom. I may have been a dumb kid, but I never forgot to suit up. A big mistake like that could screw you up forever.

“So am I,” she whispers as I start to stroke her again. She closes her eyes, seemingly overcome. “I want to know what it feels like. With no barriers.”

Christ. So do I.

She turns her head toward mine, her cheek resting against my hair, and we remain like that, my hand furiously working her *, our accelerated breaths mingling. She’s trembling on my lap, my cock is poking against her ass, and when I whisper in her ear, “Come,” she shatters, my name falling from her lips accompanied by a sob.

I wonder not for the first time if this woman was made for me. She’s so responsive. Feisty. Smart as hell. Sweet. Sexy. Filthy when I demand her to be.

I’m an addict, but she’s the only one that I crave. The only thing that makes me feel good. That makes me feel whole and like I have a purpose in life. The scary thing about addiction, though?

It takes over your life. Becomes the only thing you can focus on, the only thing that takes the pain away. If I keep this up, it’ll become more and more difficult for me to walk away.

And I should walk away.

She knows it.

I know it.

Doesn’t mean I’ll do it, though.

Chapter Twenty-seven

Violet

I’m lying on top of Ryder’s desk, my dress hiked up to my waist, my panties lying on the floor, my legs spread wide with Ryder standing in between them while he pushes his thick cock inside of me again and again. He grips my ankles, his fingers curved tight, thumbs skimming over the patterned stockings I wore just for him.

I knew he’d like them.

In a daze, I watch him. Admire him. His dark hair is a riotous mess from me running my fingers through it only minutes ago. He shed his jacket but he’s wearing one of his usual crisp white shirts and a black silk tie, everything perfectly in place above the waist. His pants are bunched around his knees along with his charcoal boxer briefs, but that doesn’t hinder him in his ability to f*ck me into oblivion.

Nothing keeps my man down.

I close my eyes and savor the thrust of his cock inside my body. In. Out. Faster. Deeper. His hands move away from my ankles and he’s gripping my hips, holding me in place as he increases his thrusts even faster. I wrap my legs around his waist, moaning with every slap of his balls against my ass. Reach out and grip his wrists to ground me as I feel the orgasm build and sway. It teases me, offering me a glimpse of its intensity, and I chase after it, close my eyes tight, concentrate on reaching that pinnacle. If I could just grasp hold of it and not let go …

The rippling sensation washes over me and I cry out, my eyes popping open to take him in as he stills, his expression one of shocked, blissful agony. One hard buck of his hips and his semen fills me as he comes, his entire body wracked with shudders.