Page 73 of Untaming Lady Violet
He’s so beautiful like this. Demanding. Impatient, although a veneer of cool wariness shields his heart. He wants me. Me. Despite my flaws and ignorance of the ways between a man and a woman. How is it possible I’ve become a woman willing to give him anything he desires when he truly offers nothing in return?
When she was completely impaled upon his body, when her buttocks rested atop the muscles of his upper thighs, when she was so full of him it was hard to breathe, her bottom lip tugged between her teeth. He was huge, and her flesh protested the invasion.
It hurt more in this position. She felt stretched. Tiny. Powerless, especially when his large hands gripped her hips so tight that her skin would be surely marked by bruises. A tear formed, the salty drop clinging to her eyelashes.
But even though it burned like fire, there was a wicked ecstasy in the way his shaft throbbed inside her. A pleasure found in the fullness that prickled her skin with awareness each time he shifted or breathed too deep a breath. This frenzy of sensations robbed her of all common sense.
She began to move and was startled when he stopped her.
“I know I am hurting you, kitten. You are so goddamn tiny; it can’t help but hurt. I need you to be still for just a moment. I need you to take your time, wait until you are sure of your movements before you even make them. Let your body adjust to mine, and when you are ready, I want you to do whatever is necessary to make yourself feel good. Until the pain I’m causing right now is gone and forgotten.”
“Yes, Tristan,” she whispered. How would she know when to move? Or when she was ready? That first time, he’d made those decisions for her. Now, insecurity reared its head. “But I—”
With the pad of his thumb, he swiped away a tear from her cheek. “I want to feel you come around me. And I will wait until you decide when that happens. Understood?”
Violet nodded. Of course, the pain would ease. Just like it did before. And unimaginable pleasure would follow. As it had before.
The only agony she would experience after that was the heartache caused by his exit from her life.
For an eternity, or maybe only minutes, Violet was still. Absorbing him. Remembering him. Tucking away bits of Tristan she could savor for years. Every breath he took was an echo of her own. Every kiss he pressed to her skin, a mirror of those she wanted to give him. Every squeeze, every caress, every whisper, tied with ribbons and stored in her heart.
When her heart was full, she began moving. Slowly at first, learning how the undulation of her hips and the clench of her inner muscles made him groan with desire. She discovered that with his hands helping her rise and fall, she could also lean back and watch his cock plunge into her body. And when she needed something else, somethingmore,something harder, Tristan took her hand, teaching her how to touch herself where they were joined. Showing that her own fingers could glide over the silky folds of her flesh. It felt her heart would pound from her chest as the pleasure spiked higher.
“Come for me, my wild Violet,” he crooned darkly. “Come for me.”
She watched him watching her, entranced by the intense, possessive light in the depths of his coffee-colored eyes. Her fingers moved as if commanded by him, his cock striking so deep it felt otherworldly, until something within her exploded without warning.
The climax washed over her in glorious waves. Violet shook from the sheer force of it. She tried hanging on, she truly did, but Tristan’s hoarse shout of conquest dragged her even further along a glittering precipice. The waves battered her, draining her and then somehow filling her back up.
She let the rolling tide have her. Let Tristan take her until she was no longer sure if she was still on earth or had somehow plummeted into a world full of fire and brimstone.
Words that should never be spoken aloud flowed from her soul. Words she’d kept secret from this man.
“I love you, Tristan. I love you…”
With a sob, Violet fell forward against his neck, but he jerked her head back up. His mouth claimed hers with a ferocity that was both thrilling and confusing. A split second later, he yanked her up and off his shaft before crushing her against him, trapping his pulsating flesh and his seed between their bodies.
His groan, muffled by their kiss, reverberated through Violet. For a moment, she wondered what he might have said at the moment of his climax had their mouths not been sealed together.
Would he have whispered how much he cared for her?
Would he have declared her as his own?
Would you have confessed your love for me, Tristan?
The words meant nothing to him but everything to Violet.
Now, he had them and the last remaining piece of her heart.
* * *
An awkward silencefell between them as Tristan once again cleaned away all evidence of their union. After lighting another lamp, he pulled on his trousers before gathering her belongings and placing them on the settee.
He tugged her hand until she stood, then began helping her dress, pulling her corset strings tight while she stood in docile surrender.
Violet’s gaze, however, frantically bounced around the studio, committing every detail to memory.
This would be the last time she ever saw it, and her breath caught in a painful gasp at the thought.
