Page 121 of Violet

“Don’t hit me,” she whispers, her voice twisted with want, sexual need, and a kind of fear that raises the hairs on the back of my head. Anticipation.

“No? Don’t you want to know?”

Her breath comes fast and a trickle of juices runs down her thigh and soaks into her panties. I want that juice. I want her desire. Her arousal. I want—need—her to pulsate on my dick.

“You won’t hurt me, Stephan.”

I raise the ruler high and bring it down, so it makes a sound in the air, stopping just before touching her with it. Then I put it back on her ass, placing it gently. “No?”

“No.”

“But you’re not obeying me. And usually you do, Princess. You’re usually utterly perfect, so good.”

It’s like I shot a volt of electrical current into her.

“Please don’t.”

“I have to.” I unzip, free myself, pumping for a few seconds, then I let my junk go. “Don’t tense. It’ll hurt more.”

A squeak escapes Violet, and I bring the ruler fast through the air and stop well short of it meeting her flesh, and instead I bring my hand down in a smack that leaves a light little pink patch.

Violet lets out a tiny scream. “Oh, God.”

With that, I drop the ruler and it hits the floor with aclang. I fist my cock, part her folds and plunge in, stretching her and slamming to the hilt.

Oh. Fuck. It’s like coming home. She’s tight and wet and so primed that little spasms milk me. Then I start to move.

One hand on her hip to hold her, the other on the shelf to stop me slamming her into it.

My Violet might have a little praise kink; she hates it and craves it at the same time, and it seems to get her wetter when I make her squirm with praise.

But putting a little twisted fear in her is almost as good as praise.

Her slickness from arousal allows me to slide in and out hard and fast, lets me get so fucking balls to the wall deep in her that slamming her is borderline close to rutting. And I want to.

Fuck, do I want to.

To let go and just own her in all the ways pushes at me, but I’m not going to. I know how this meal ends.

I move my hand from her hip, around to her clit and start to stroke and toy with it, all the while aiming to hit that spot in her that feels good to me and makes her insane.

She’s pushing back, moaning and panting, and the urge to let go gets stronger, my hold on myself thinner. I’m aching and flying high. Aching because I need that knotting, flying because there’s nothing like Violet.

Then she comes, a gasping cry as she shudders on me, her cunt spasming hard.

My knot starts to swell, and I pull out.

“Drop to your knees and open your mouth.”

She does and swallows me down, bobbing up and down on me, taking me so deep I’m hammering her throat.

And then I’m coming.

Papers and supplies fall and clatter. I almost bring the shelf down on us. The orgasm seems to last forever, with me grunting and jerking as she drains me.

When the tremors finally end, Violet stares at me, her eyes glazed, and I drag her up and crush her to me, kissing her deep and long, the kiss the last bite of my fast meal.

She tastes so sweet as always, that Violet taste, and she tastes like me.

---