Page 43 of Puppy Love

“Wait no-don’t stop,” I say, completely tripping over every word in the sentence. Violet’s grip on my arm loosens but doesn’t quite let go. I swallow. “I just, I haven’t done this before. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

The concern on Violet’s face is quickly washed over with relief, then a hint of amusement.

“You’re on the bottom, sweetheart.” She smirks. “You just lay there and look pretty. Cheer me on, maybe.”

My brows furrow, and I look up at her. God, she’s fucking gorgeous. The tattoos on her arms aren’t nearly her only ones. Earthy artwork is painted across her entire body, waves outlining the curves of her perfect, luscious tits, and forests climbing each muscular tanned leg. Vines wrap around her torso like a jungle, and fuck, just call me George. Her facial piercings aren’t the only ones she has either. No, not there. But silver bars pierce through each brown nipple, and a little green gem rests at the gap of her navel. I don’t know how I hadn’t noticed them before. And now that I know they’re there, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to think about anything else.

But none of those things are what makes Violet beautiful. All of that is sexy, sure. But there’s more to her than the artwork painted on her body and the silver embedded in her skin.

It’s her dark lashes, those mossy hazel eyes. The freckle sitting on the bridge of her nose that I’m just now noticing. The curve of her waist, the prominent bulge of her muscles underneath her skin. But the thing that makes Violet the most beautiful is the fact that she cares if I’m okay. If I’m enjoying myself. If I’m comfortable.

Cody sure as hell never did that.

“So, what? I’m just a Pillow Princess?” I ask, eyeing her suspiciously.

“Isn’t that your royal duty, as the Ice Princess?” she teases. Her hips budge subtly, just once, as if to ask for permission. I can’t think of anything I want more than for her to keep going. I nod, and Violet presses herself back against me, the warm wet friction gliding between us.

Moans fill the air, Violet’s grip on my bicep tightening, my fingers around a fistful of sheets doing the same. Though some might say this is a ticket to hell, something about it feels so heavenly. Like white-hot energy. Sweat beads on the crown of Violet’s forehead, as she rolls her hips in heated desperation. I swear she’s glowing, her head tilted back as a string of curses leave her pretty little mouth.

“Fuck, Cam,” she moans, and the sound of my name coming out of her mouth in such a hungry plea is almost enough to tip me over the edge.

“God, Violet, please,” I whine, though I can’t say for sure that it’s audible. That’s fine. She doesn’t need the ego boost. Her hips buck, her fingers sinking into my arm so hard I’m sure it will leave bruises, but I don’t care. I don’t care about anything that isn’t the wet pressure between us. I start to roll my hips too, thrusting upward as the friction between us tightens. Violet’s head tosses back, her eyes rolling and her lip quivering as she lets out a loud moan.

“Fuck, I’m—” I stutter, my face hot, my pulse thready. I close my eyes. “I—”

I can’t get my vocal cords to work in the way I want them to, but Violet knows exactly what I’m trying to communicate.

“Look at me,” she commands, somehow gaining enough composure to hold her head upright. My stomach shakes, and I don’t know how my body can be so malleable and so tense at the same time. Through my furrowed brows and flickering lashes, my eyes dart up to hers. I close them again.

“I can’t—” She pushes, this time the top of her thigh rubbing against my swollen clit.

“You either look me in the eye, or you watch me fuck this tight, wet pussy of yours. But you aren’t going to stare at the back of your eyelids while you beg for me. You aren’t going to miss a single moment of this.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

At this point, I’m so desperate I can’t argue with her. My eyes flutter open, landing back on hers as she grinds against me, her supple breasts bouncing against her ribcage.

Pressure builds inside of me, a tight coil forming in my stomach as the heavy thrum between my thighs heats up even further, Violet’s eyes holding mine hostage. She sucks her lower lip between her teeth, watching me like she’s on a mission. To be fair, she is.

I can hear my own heartbeat, pounding in my head as an unbridled moan forces its way out of me. Who knew trying new things could feel so fucking good?

“Fuck, Violet!”

The corner of her lip turns upward, and she leans over, maintaining eye contact as her teeth sink into the skin of my knee.

My legs shake uncontrollably, my knuckles turning white as a wave of heat washes over me. My toes curl against the sheets. Violet’s voice, begging me to come.

“Come on baby,” she whispers. “Just like that.”

My back arches like the curve of a crescent moon, moonlight crashing over me in a sweaty, panting heap.

The tension in my body releases, and my muscles slowly ease. The unsteady flow of air in my lungs finds its natural rhythm, and I exhale slowly, controlled.*

Violet slides off me and rests against the bed, pulling the thin white sheet over only half of her body. I pull myself up, so my back rests against the creaky headboard.

“Good new or bad new?” she asks breathily, like her lungs still haven’t caught up with her. My face flushes as I glance at her, then to the ceiling.

“Good.”

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