Page 69 of Whips and Chains
I pulled back to stare at her, all pussy and tits and belly, head thrown back in pleasure and totally open to me, trusting me to keep her safe.
It was the sexiest gift she could have given me. I didn’t need the lingerie she’d worn to the club that night. I didn’t need her dancing for me or putting on a show. Her trusting me with her body was the hottest thing she could have done.
“Need you to come for me, baby,” I mumbled against her belly, kissing all over it, then lower across her mound while I thrust into her with my fingers. “Need to feel that pussy squeeze.”
She reached for me, and I let her because she was so hot and wet, I could tell she needed more. I let her unzip my jeans and drag my underwear down just enough to free my cock. And then we were both battling to get me inside her, her making desperatemoans of need and telling me to hurry, while I lined up at her entrance and got my cock wet in the arousal just pooling there, waiting for me.
The plunge inside her was desperate and fast, but so fucking satisfying. I bottomed out inside her, and we both paused there, her gasping at the intrusion, me biting down on my lip to stop myself from shouting her name and waking the entire house up.
To distract myself from the fact her pussy was so damn perfect, and I was so hot for her I was ready to come after one stroke, I pushed my clothes off my bottom half, stepping out of my jeans and underwear and leaving them in a puddle on the floor.
She had the same idea about getting me just as naked as she was.
She yanked desperately at my shirt, unbuttoning it with greedy, fast fingers, and delivering kisses to my chest with every inch she exposed.
She reached the bottom, undoing the last button, and shoved my shirt off my shoulders.
But her kisses didn’t stop. She kissed all over my neck and shoulders and pecs, every touch of her lips sending an explosion of pleasure and sensation through my entire body.
A gasp filled the tiny, quiet room.
I froze, my cock buried deep inside her, worry filling me that I’d somehow hurt her. My eyes flew open. “What? Are you okay?”
She stared at my chest.
Or more accurately, the Violet I’d tattooed over my heart.
Ah shit. I’d had it covered up when she’d last seen me naked but I’d ripped the bandage off it this morning. It had gotten loose and tattered and really didn’t serve a purpose any more since the tattoo was completely healed anyway.
A part of me knew I’d been keeping it on because I hadn’t been ready to show her.
But then last night, everything had changed.
Now all I wanted was for her to know exactly how I felt about her.
Because last night, I’d very nearly lost the chance to. If she’d died in that warehouse, she would have died never knowing how much she owned my fucking heart. How she was all I’d thought about since the very first letter.
She would have never known how damn much I loved her.
She stared at me. “You…you tattooed my name?”
I nodded.
She breathed out a slow breath, fingers trailing so lightly over my skin, if I hadn’t been watching I would have thought I’d imagined it.
“Yes.”
“When?”
“That night you met me up on the bluffs.”
She screwed her head up. “The night you rejected me?”
I grabbed her chin, holding it tighter than I would have normally, but she needed to hear the words I was about to say.
I needed to know she heard them.
“I never rejected you, Violet. I only rejected the version of myself I knew wasn’t good enough for you. I was stupid and selfish, I know that. But I loved you then, just like I love you now. And that tattoo reminds me every day.”
