Page 50 of To Have and to Hold

As my hand worked her, her hand worked me, and when I felt myself getting closer, I tried to pull away, unwilling to mark her with my cum unless she requested it.

“I want to taste it,” she admitted, realizing what I was doing. “Please.” She moaned when I changed my rhythm on her clit, changing from tight circles to wider, more languid movements, dragging it out.

There was no way, despite my baser instincts screaming at me to, that I was going to let her suck my cock. “Keep going,” I said then. “I’ll let you taste.”

She squeezed the head of my cock, and the soap helped bring me to a slippery, intense orgasm. At the last second, I cupped underneath my slit and collected my cum as it spurted out in long ropes, moaning and tensing until I was through the best of it.

“Theo…” she sighed, her body sagging on mine, but she didn’t let my cock go, still playing with it as it softened, happily spent.

I licked up my cum from my hand, slurping every drop so it was on my tongue, then I tipped her head back towards me and kissed her. She sobbed in pleasure, her body roiling with shivers and goosebumps as she came on my fingers. It was always a delicious sight, something I never knew to crave, but now would never get enough of.

“You’re so beautiful,” I said between presses of my lips, plunges of my tongue against hers. She licked at my mouth, groaning at every drop of cum that we swapped.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you, Theo.”

“I love you,” I told her. “So fucking much.”

We stayed in that bath, letting the warm water wash over us for so long we began pruning up. I washed her hair three times, then untangled it with my fingers while she laid between my legs.

When it became clear we needed to get some bandages on some of her wounds that weren’t quite closing, we spilled out to the bed. Tending to her was what I was made for, I decided. It wasn’t even just the sex, the orgasms. It was the closeness, how wonderful it was to be close to her, to bring her happiness.

Fuck, I was so done for with her.

There wasn’t a thing I wouldn’t do.

Chapter 28

Theo

Aftertwodaysatthe motel, we moved on. Violet’s wounds were mostly superficial, healing with careful bandaging and smears of ointment. Which was a fucking miracle, if you asked me. The only wound more than skin deep was on her thigh, just below where Rafe had carved a disgusting word into her. If only he knew she wasn’tbarren. Then maybe he never would have hurt her this bad. A few more blows away from irreparable damage.

Now, every day, every hour, she was growing stronger, steadier, her spark of determination brightening, and it was time to get going.

We’d talked for hours about what we should do, where we should head for. Would our father help us? It was doubtful. It took a long time for me to share what I knew about Connor, and even then, it was hard to admit I was in on it, too. All along, Ihadn't agreed with any of it, but I'd done nothing. All along, the plan had included her suffering.

She accepted it with surprising ease, taking it on the chin that we were working against the family, that she was somewhat of a pawn for Connor's plan and I hadn't bothered to stop it. She understood why I’d done things the way I had, and was her usual sweet self with me. I liked her bite, liked her sweetness too. And spending unlimited time with her, I got to see both beautiful sides often.

Connor would be pissed at me for this, for ruining it all. I’d gone against everything we’d been working towards. He’d laugh us out the door if I dared go to him, dared ask for that witness protection for her that he'd offered in desperation when it looked like I might stray. But… Christian was too far. I wasn't sure we had a choice.

“We have to try,” Violet said, sipping her tea and watching me as I drove. “We don’t have anything to lose with him, do we?”

We didn’t. Not really. But the last time I’d spoken to him, he’d acted bloody weird. Demanding and cold. He knew about Violet and me, what we’d done together, what we would carry on doing, and he'd left. Walked away from the shit I'd caused with Charlie's death and my feelings for Vi. I’d ignored his calls since then, afraid of what he might do or say if I let him speak at me for more than a few minutes. His disgust had been… hard to take. I didn't want to see that horror on his face when I was with Violet. What we were doing together wasn’t wrong, it was fucking beautiful.

But I needed Connor more than I needed to keep my dignity.

“I know,” I told my sister, dropping my hand to her thigh and giving it a soft squeeze. “Just… whatever he says, don’t take it to heart, okay? No matter what happens, it’s you and me.”

“Always,” she responded, voice low.

“Always.”

I called him as we continued to drive without aim, hoping to turn the car in his direction any second. We could hide out with him in NYC if he’d have us. The city was busy enough that it would be easy to disappear into the crowds. He would never try to return her, I was certain. I would rather die than send Violet back to those people. Would rather she die. Connor was a good man at heart, she was a distant means to an end. But when it was in his control? When he'd have to take responsibility for giving her to a monster? He would never.

“What do you want, you little rat?” Connor said in answer after a few rings, his tone tired but biting. I winced, and Violet reached over to pat my knee. His voice echoed through the car, the speaker too loud. Connor sounded a lot like our father on the phone, especially when he was pissed, and I was scared Violet would be upset, but she only watched me.

“Uncle Connor,” I said, meeting his stern energy.

The tension in the vehicle rose when he didn’t reply. We could hear him breathing, a sharp suck of breath leaving us on tenterhooks. Then, at last, “Your sister with you?” he asked, sounding resigned, curious, but not cold.

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