Getting Real (Getting Some #3)(45)

“I’m coming,” she whimpers. “Connor I’m coming, I’m coming. . . ”

Yeah, she fucking is. And it’s beautiful.

I want to plunge my tongue into her moaning mouth and swallow her cries.

But I want to watch her more.

How her neck arches back, pushing her breasts forward, and her long black lashes fan beneath her blissfully closed eyes, the way color rises sharp and light on her cheeks, but her lips go a darker, deeper shade of pink.

Violet goes limp against me, sinking her face into my shoulder, her little breaths tickling my neck. I slip my hand out from between her legs, and—yeah—I bring it to my mouth, sucking my fingers clean.

She’s sweet like strawberry juice, and warm like honey. And I can’t wait to have her straddling my face—so I can taste that sweetness straight at the source.

“We should go inside, baby.”

Vi lifts her head from my shoulder, her pretty face lax and dazed.

“No, not yet.”

I brush her hair back and massage slow circles into her neck.

“Let me take you inside, Violet. We’re not done, not even close. But I want to take my time with you.”

She shakes her head again and slips off my lap.

She lays on her stomach on the seat next to me, bending her legs at the knees so her feet dangle in the air and her dress rides up exposing the luscious lower cheeks of her ass, peeking out below black lace panties.

I’m momentarily captivated by the sight—I can’t not grab it. So I do—feeling the soft, firm flesh against my palm and slipping my fingers under the fabric to tease up and down along her crease.

Violet tears at the button and zipper of my jeans like a woman on a mission from God. Like a vixen, an angel, a whore, and a saint.

She opens my pants, tugs my briefs down, and wraps her hand around my aching, stiff cock—pumping the shaft slow and firm.

“Violet we . . . fuuuck me—”

My head lolls back on my neck and words are no longer physically possible.

Because my dick is in her mouth—and it’s hot, wet, and perfect.

Her lips are a tight, pillowy seal as she slowly sinks down and down, taking me all the way in. Until I’m nudging the back of her narrow throat and can feel the exhale of her breath out of her nose against my groin.

And then Violet stays right there. Just like that. Keeping me lodged in the heaven of her scorching mouth and clasping throat until I’m gripping the seat and my eyes roll back and my heart feels like it’s ready to explode.

She sucks hard on the way up, dragging her tongue, leaving a glistening wet trail behind her. Vi rubs her lips against the head, licking and kissing and worshipping—like I’m a mythical Greek cock-deity and she’s my supplicant servant girl.

She takes me all the way back in, sucking harder, her dark head bobbing up and down in a way that looks incredible and feels unreal.

My balls go heavy and tight with the oncoming release and my hips lift on their own accord. I start thrusting in and out of her mouth, spearing her lips—and Violet moans around me—telling me how much she likes it.

I come hard, groaning her name—flooding her mouth in thick, hot, pulses—the pleasure so intense colors burst like bombs behind my eyelids. Violet’s throat constricts as she swallows, trying to keep up, even as I give her more and more.

After the jerking aftershocks subside, my spine goes slack. I don’t move—can’t move—the fuses of my somatic nervous system have been momentarily blown . . . along with the rest of me.

Violet gives me a final lick, then rises up, resting proudly back on her calves. Her eyes are shining and her smile is bright. She swipes her tongue across her bottom lip and runs her finger over her chin, wiping away what she couldn’t swallow fast enough.

It’s kind of dirty and extraordinarily hot and it makes me want to start all over again.

We’re never going to leave this truck.

“That was incredible.”

I chuckle.

“I’m pretty sure that’s my line.”

And I reach for her, draping her across me, sinking my hand into her hair and pouring every drop of affection and fulfillment that rolls through me into our kiss.


*

We do eventually make it into the house—into Violet’s bed.

I make her come with my mouth between her legs, because I really can’t get enough of her taste. And then I sit at the edge of her bed, feet on the floor, I curse and whisper crude things in her ear as she rides me hard and fast with my hands on her ass—until we come again at the same time.

And then we talk. We kiss and cuddle. We discuss in more detail how she felt when she thought I was blowing her off and I describe the torture of my confusion when she seemed so pissed, but not really, and I couldn’t figure out which end was up.

Glad that’s fucking over.

Violet heads into the bathroom to take her contact lenses out and I ogle her shamelessly the whole time she’s out of bed.

Then we grow quiet. I press my nose to the nape of Violet’s neck, breathing her in, and she wraps her arms around my forearms, holding on tight. The rise and fall of her chest evens out and I think she drifts off—so when my phone alarm vibrates at half past midnight, I kiss her neck and scrape my teeth over her earlobe.

“Are you awake?”

Vi inhales deeply.