Page 45 of Chips & Checks
But I don’t plunge in. I explore. I tease. I learn.
And when I finally ease a finger inside, her body clenches around me like it’s been waiting. Like it remembers me.
Like maybe this isn’t just sex. Maybe it’s something neither of us has the language for yet.
I press a kiss to her neck, the hollow of her throat, the soft curve of her jaw. Every touch, every breath, every beat of this moment screams what we won’t say out loud:
We’re falling.
Hard.
And neither of us has a parachute.
The slick heat of her slips over my knuckles as I finger her, searching for the spot inside her that will make her moan my name. The sounds she makes are desperate and needy.
I swear, I didn’t plan this. If I had, I’d have a whole fistful of condoms with me… but I didn’t even have any in my room, because I had no plans of doing anything the least bit sexy on this trip.
“Bowen!” Violet tugs on my hair. “Oh, fuck, I… I…” Every muscle in her body tenses, and I don’t stop, don’t even slow, until she clamps down on my fingers. It’s not enough. Not just for her, but for me. I need to hear her scream my name again.
She’s still trembling and coming down from her release when I grab her and flip her over onto all fours. I drag her pajama pants down until she bares that perfect ass for me. Kneeling behind her, I pull her against me so that my cock rests between her cheeks. If I angle myself a little, I can press my flushed cock to her ass while fucking her with my fingers.
“Bowen,” she says. There’s new tension in her voice.
“Trust me,” I rasp. “Trust me.” I thrust against her, and even though it’s not enough to make me come, the feel of her skin against mine is still a relief.
When she realizes what I’m doing—that I’m not actually going to enter her without protection—she relaxes. I close my eyes, enjoying the pressure of her skin and the slickness of her quivering cunt around my fingers. Violet presses her face into her pillow and screams as she thrusts backward. I’m not sure she’s saying my name anymore. I can’t make out any words at all.
And then she’s coming again, and she’s so wet, and I want to be inside her. I want to feel her bloom for me, open for me, let mein. When her legs give out, I roll her onto her back and pull up her shirt until her stomach and heaving breasts are bared for me. Then I take myself in hand and close my eyes, trying to remember exactly how it felt that first night, when I was under her, when she came on my cock, and imagine how it would feel to come inside her, to fill her, to make her mine…
I come so hard my vision blurs, and I keep coming for another three strokes. The arm that’s holding my body up trembles so badly I might collapse. When I finally open my eyes, Violet is lying on her back, her swollen lips parted, her eyes wide, my seed spilled across her flushed skin. She looks wrecked.
She looks perfect.
And I have a terrible feeling that whatever just happened between us has changed things forever.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuuuuuck.
I can see it now.
Not just the sex. Not just the heat. But this—the way she looks at me, the way she trusts me, the way I already know what her moans sound like, what makes her legs shake, what scent lingers in the sheets.
And I can’t unsee it.
It’s Violet.Her.
Slow dancing in the kitchen. Holding hands. Finishing each other’s sentences.
Just like my parents still do.
The exact thing I’ve sworn I’d never want. The thing I’ve mocked. Feared. Built walls to avoid. But it’s creeping in anyway, quiet and patient and unstoppable.
And for the first time in my life, I’m terrified it might be too late to stop it. And I don’t want to.
“My nuts,” I blurt.
Violet blinks. “What?”
“I… spilled my nuts.” I sound like a fucking lunatic, but I can’t help it. I’m panicking. There are rules for a reason, and havingthoughtsis not in the rules.
