Page 91 of Reckless King

I’m so needy, so desperate to come, that I’m rolling my hips, pressing up against his hands. This time, he quickens his pace, relentless, until the heat and pressure inside me detonate, and ecstasy crashes over me.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful when you come, Violet.”

I force my eyes open and get lost in the depths of his as he watches me fall apart.

The moan that escapes me is deep and unfamiliar as my body pulsates around him. But instead of slowing his movements as my orgasm ebbs, he keeps working his fingers hard and fast. When he leans over and adds his tongue, I grab a fistful of his hair and try to push him back. He doesn’t budge.

My head lolls from side to side. “I can’t, Tate. I can’t so soon.”

“You can,” he insists, picking up his pace. His mouth moves in tandem with his hand, and somehow, an almost painful ache is building inside me. And then he adds a third finger and sucks hard on my clit.

Impossibly, another orgasm crashes over me. With my hand still in his hair, I hold him against me as my back bows and I’m racked by wave after wave of pleasure.

Even then he doesn’t stop, fingers thrusting, mouth and tongue working. My core spasms again, bringing on a third climax right after the second, forcing tears from my eyes and a hoarse cry from my throat. I clench uncontrollably around his fingers, writhing and gasping until I’m breathless and spent. Only then does he slow. With a tender kiss to my swollen, sensitive clit, he stands.

I’m still shaking and panting when he unzips his pants and pulls out his erection. It’s long and thick and straining for me.

My head spins, and need tightens into a hot knot deep inside my belly. This man got me off in the limo, the elevator, and three times here on his dining room table, and with all that pleasure, I still haven’t had his cock in me. I’m exhausted, just like he said I would be. But still, I want it, I wanthim, so badly, that I press my thighs together in anticipation.

He pulls a condom out of his pocket, and I try not to let the thought that he was prepared for this distract me from what I’m feeling. I’m just glad we don’t have to stop to find one. He sheathes himself quickly, then presses his thick, broad crown against my entrance.

I brace myself for the pressure, the stretch, because he’s so damn big. But it doesn’t come.

He looms over me, one hand planted next to my head, the other wrapped around the base of his shaft. The corners of his lips curl up. “Let me hear those pretty words, butterfly.”

My whole body flushes hot. I’d forgotten what I promised. But after the way I came all over his pants in the limo, and on his mouth and fingers in the elevator and just now, there’s no room for embarrassment. Now all I can think about is him pushing his way into me. “Please, Tate. Please fuck me. I need your cock. I need you to fill me up. I need?—”

He spears into me, two, maybe three inches, wringing a gasp out of me.

“Jesus Christ, Violet.” His voice in my ear is like gravel.

He’s big. Even having seen him and felt him against me, I underestimated how big he is. He’s nowhere near halfway in, and already, I feel the stretch. He yanks the bodice of my dress down and sucks a nipple between his lips, alternating between slow and gentle, then deep and hard. In response to the sensation, I buck up toward him, forcing him deeper.

He curses, then his lips are hard and urgent on mine as he works his hips until he’s finally buried inside me.

My breasts are bared, and my dress is bunched up around my waist. Tate’s shirt is still buttoned, and his pants are only pushed down far enough to free his erection. We’re fully clothed, but somehow, that makes the moment hotter. Because we were so desperate for one another, we couldn’t wait to be joined like this.

I run my hands over his shoulders and down his arms, but he grips my wrists and stretches them over my head. Between his hold on me there and his cock impaling me, I’m pinned.

Helpless.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

TATE

Nothing has ever felt this good.

Being inside Violet is like being encased in hot, wet silk. Her wide blue eyes are locked on mine, and her body ripples around me. Making her come, watching her fall apart, has left me on edge. I’m addicted to the look in her eyes when pleasure takes her over. The sounds she makes, the way she gives herself so trustingly. I can’t get enough of it.

But now I need her. I need to lose myself in her. She’s exactly where I wanted her, held down and helpless beneath me. Flames lick along every inch of my skin, and if I don’t move, I’ll lose my mind.

Upright and hovering over her, I grip her hip with one hand and tilt her so I can watch myself slide in and out. Revel in the way she’s stretched around me, at the way her arousal coats both of us. “You’re taking me so fucking well, butterfly. Just like I knew you would.”

I pull back and pump into her, fucking her with long, sure strokes. The delicate muscles inside her flutter and clutch at my cock as I angle to hit that sensitive spot that will make her shatter for me. Her hands twist in my grip, and she meets my every stroke by raising her hips.

This view is pure heaven, but I need a taste of her again. I lean over her and suck on her nipples, her pulse point, the soft skin below her ear. I have to tighten my hold on her hips, because the way she’s writhing against me has me too close to losing it.

“Tate,” she cries out. She’s teetering on the edge of overstimulation. She’s come so many times, and now I’m forcing her body toward one more.

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