Page 80 of A Photo Finish
Every muscle in my body goes taut. This is so fucking hot. She’s so fucking forgiving. I don’t fucking deserve her. But I’m going to spend every damn day trying. The thought invigorates me.
I start like I did a year ago, “Lie back on your pillows and spread your legs.”
And just like the time before, she flushes pink. A whole-body blush.
“You look so fucking pretty in pink,” I say as I stalk to the bed, feeling my knees butt up against the brass footboard. And when she lets her legs fall open, I groan. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Good,” she says with a slight smirk. A small sign of her strength.
She might be gentle and soft-spoken, but Violet isn’t weak. She can’t be if she’s going to withstand a man like me.
She settles back into the pillows, and I admire her body splayed out before me like an all-you-can-eat buffet. I plan to sample every inch. I let my gaze linger between her legs, glistening already. I can see it, but I want to hear her say it. “Are you wet already?”
Her chest rises on a small gasp as she looks down over her body and confesses with a small hiss, “Yesss.”
“Of course you are.” My prosthetic clangs against the bed frame, and my cock throbs. I don’t know who I’m torturing more here—her or myself. “You love this, don’t you?”
She just nods this time, cerulean eyes wide like pools of deep water. Like the river I can hear rushing behind the house. “Why don’t you touch yourself and show me?”
Her hand finds her pussy almost instantly while the other tangles in the sheets below her. Like she’s holding on for dear life. I’m transfixed as her fingers trail through her folds, her eyes closing and head tipping back on a moan. Most men would probably be engrossed by what’s happening between her legs right now, but I’m staring at the way her elegant neck extends, her exposed throat and the way it moves as she swallows.
“Two fingers in, baby.”
She whimpers but follows my directions. I don’t miss the way her thighs tremble as she does it though, the way her toes curl and clench. She pumps in a few times, making the most delicious fucking noises as she does.
“Now show me how wet you are.”
Her eyes flick open, and her jaw drops. Still so damn shocked sometimes. Oh, honey . . .
Right as she holds her fingers up to show me how wet she is, I say, “Now suck them.”
“Jesus . . .” she mutters, momentarily looking away with a small smile on her mouth. Like she loves it but can’t believe she does. It makes me smile too. Until she puts them in her mouth and moans around her fingers.
Fuuucckk.
She giggles, which makes my cock jump painfully in my boxers. “No toy to play with this time.”
“I’m looking at him.” She sounds out of breath now. Wet, breathless, and blushing. I live for this version of Violet Eaton, and I can’t wait another minute to dive in. I’m over the end of the bed and crawling toward her, yanking my boxers down and moving straight in between her spread legs before she can get another word out.
“I don’t remember this part from last time.” She laughs, and it’s fucking music to my ears. I’ll never get sick of making that up to her.
* * *
I’mready to crawl back into bed and sleep after an early morning marathon sex session with Violet. I haven’t had this much sex in, well, probably ever. Unfortunately, we’re both gainfully employed and have jobs we need to get to today.
“See you tonight?” she asks, sliding into a pair of skin-tight riding pants that has my mind wandering places it should be tired of going by now. We’ve been sort of sneaking around for a few weeks. We don’t go out. We work and fuck and then talk until we fall asleep in each other’s arms. She’s met up with Billie and Mira the odd time, but she never invites me to come—even though I know Vaughn is often with them.
I sometimes catch myself wondering if she wants more. I should just ask her. I should take Trixie’s advice and talk to her about my anxiety around my dad, the depth of it. Around horses. And the fact that she rides them for a living. But it’s so pathetically insecure I haven’t talked myself into it.
At least I’m consistent.
“Of course.” I swipe her wet hair off her cheek and cup her head just below her ear as I press a kiss to her cheek. I love how dainty she feels in my hands. Precious.
We get ready quickly, quietly, running behind after having to go one more time in the shower. And when I lock the door behind us, she stops and spins around, launching herself at me, wrapping her arms around my neck and planting a big kiss on me. I’m a little surprised, but I catch up, pulling her close with one arm around her waist and letting the other take a nice big handful of that ass in those tight pants. This is the morning goodbye I’ve always dreamt of.
And then a throat clears loudly. “Is it weird for me to say that was pretty hot?”
Billie.
