Page 41 of Corrupt Obsession

Jesse drew her against him. Even though he was the cause of her pain, she wrapped one arm around him and sobbed against his throat as everything that had happened over the past hour overwhelmed her. He stroked her hair and apologized over and over.

“I swear, Violet,” he breathed fervently. “I’ll never?—”

She turned her head and latched onto his mouth. She wasn’t sure whether she did it because she didn’t want him to make rash promises, or because she wanted a different type of comfort. Either way, it did the job. The talking stopped, and the physical reassurance she desperately needed after he’d used her body so brutally came in the form of a gentle, almost reverent kiss.

She had kissed a few boys, but most of her experience came from Tucker. He was a playboy and had great technique, but there was something about the way Jesse kissed her, as if she was made of fragile glass, that soothed the trauma of her first time. That hadn’t been him. That was his dark alter ego that paid her midnight visits. This was Jesse, the one who clasped her face as he kissed her, as if she was the most precious thing in the world to him.

Kissing other boys caused her tummy to flutter, but with Jesse, she felt like her world was spinning. He kissed her with an absorption that blocked out everything else. He didn’t stop, even to let her catch her breath.

When his fingers probed between her legs, she stiffened and tried to push his hand away.

“Let me do this for you,” he breathed against her lips.

She was prepared for more pain when his finger slid inside her. To her surprise, it evoked a pleasant, familiar throb of desire.

“Does that feel good?”

She bit her lip.

“Violet.”

Her eyes opened and stared into his.

“Tell me how it feels.”

He wasn’t angry, but his intensity was back. She flushed under his dissecting gaze as her awareness flared out, reminding her where they were and that soon Mom and Dad would be…

Jesse’s thumb rubbed her clitoris. She let out a stifled shriek and bucked.

He kissed her cheek. “Yes, let me know what you like. I want to make you fly.”

He asked her for guidance on how he was making her feel, but words were beyond her. Her moans, gasps, and shudders led him instead. When she finally came, she bit her own forearm to stifle her scream.

“Good girl.”

She heard Jesse’s satisfied tone from a long way off. She felt his hand smoothing what was dripping out of her onto her belly. Her eyes fluttered shut against her will.

“Jesse,” she slurred.

He kissed her temple. “Everything’s fine. Go to sleep.”

“But I…”

He covered her mouth with his. Their tongues dueled before her mouth went slack. He broke the kiss, chuckling, and kissed her forehead. “Sleep, baby.”

She swam upfrom the depths. Her body ached like she had the flu. Was she ill? She opened her eyes and took in her surroundings. The room was dark, but a nightlight oriented her in her bedroom.

She listened, but no voices drifted down the hall. Had she missed dinner? She braced her hand on the bed to sit up and felt an unfamiliar, dragging pain between her legs. Her breath caught in her throat as graphic visions whizzed through her mind. Her hand slid over her body and stilled. She was no longer wearing a top or shorts. She was in one of her nightgowns. Her brows drew together.Wasit a dream? Her fingers pressed between her legs, but there was no sticky residue. She was clean, but tender and achy. Why couldn’t she remember?

She threw back the covers and went into the bathroom. She didn’t turn on the light but went to Jesse’s door and put her ear to it before she stepped through. Jesse’s room was dark, but the door leading into the hallway was open, allowing her to see that the room was empty. Frowning, she peered at the made bed, which had sheets tucked so tight, she could bounce a quarter off it.

Worried that she was losing her mind, she entered the hallway. The door to her parents’ domain was closed, indicating one or both of her parents had turned in. What time was it? The living and dining room were empty, but there was a lone lamp on. She peered at the numbers on the microwave but was distracted by an unfamiliar flickering light in the backyard. Jessestood by the fire pit. She stared at him through the glass, heart thudding in her ears, palms damp with anxiety.

As if he sensed her, he half turned. With the fire behind him, she couldn’t see his face, but he beckoned her outside with his hand.

She hesitated before her need for answers and confirmation pushed away her uncertainty. She slipped on sandals as she crossed to him. He held out his arm as she neared. She didn’t hesitate to tuck herself against his side.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

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