With enough pressure to mildly sting, I nip at the side of her neck. She jolts in my hold and I smile against her skin, my lips lightly grazing the tender flesh. “You can’t provoke a predator and expect it not to bite. Calm yourself,ribelle, I didn’t draw blood.”
But I would if I fucked you.
Violetta’s chest rises and falls with each of her rapid breaths and once I palm her breast, the motion halts. Her stiffened nipple is easily felt through both the fabric of her shirt and bra, and I inwardly gloat. Mentally, she’s anxious and restrained around me, but physically she’s passionate. Just like the woman herself, Violetta’s body doesn’t speak, however, it does communicate silently, and most beautifully.
I’d bet my fortune she’s already wet.
The last bit of my inner fortitude is the only thing keeping me from taking what she’s offering. But that doesn’t mean I can’t sample her…
“You’re not breathing,” I say. She inhales deep, thrusting her breast into my hand all the more. “That’s my good girl. Make sure you continue breathing, and not only that, but keep your inhalations as even as possible.”
She pulls back just enough to search my gaze. Her eyes are a tumultuous sea of green and blue, growing more and more cloudy as though a storm approaches. I suppose I am that to her, since I do plan to surround her, overtake her, and bend her to my will like a tempest does a vessel.
I let her see the intention in my gaze.
Every single wicked thing I want to do to her.
While comprehension slowly dawns, Violetta’s mouth slackens and I use her distraction as an opportunity. I take hold of her thigh and spread her just enough so I can put my hand between her legs. When I grab her cunt, she slaps a hand on my chest, and I ignore it, choosing to focus on the heat of her against my palm.
“Are you wet?”
She blinks at me, like a prey caught in a trap, eyes wide and pupils dilated. I know she’s overwhelmed and for some inexplicable reason I enjoy it. Maybe it’s because her lack of education in such things allows me to experience this novelty with her. Or perhaps it’s due to the fact I know what’s going to happen and I’m savoring the anticipation.
Whatever the case, I can’t stop what’s happening.
“I asked you a question,” I prompt, studying her closely. “I’m not going to repeat myself.”
While I wait for her to answer, I make tiny circles on her clit through her underwear. She stops breathing again, so I slide my other hand from her waist and up to her breast to tweak her nipple between my fingers, rolling it back and forth, applying more pressure with each motion. Her gasp is barely audible, but loud enough for me to hear it. Possibly because I’m now trailing kisses along her jawline.
She fists my shirt and her hips buck when my strokes to her clit become more aggressive and faster. I inhale the scent of her, pulling that heady essence into me, and raise my head to stare down at her. She briefly closes her eyes and her brow furrows just the tiniest bit, either from her attempt to maintain control, or because the pleasure has overwhelmed her.
After lifting her lashes to look at me, Violetta tugs on my clothes and mouthswet.
I shake my head at her and she narrows her gaze, but when I pinch her nipple her eyes go wide with both surprise and desire.
“I want complete sentences.” I take her bottom lip between my own and lightly graze the delicate skin with my teeth before releasing it. “You should be grateful I’m not making you say it out loud.”
Her anger is quick to rise, along with her rebellion. Violetta smacks my hand away from her breast and then takes my forearm, shoving with all her might. The strength she possesses is nothing compared to mine and I don’t try to hide the fact.
Instead, I hook my fingers into the crotch of her underwear and yank down until the material rests just past her knees. She digs her nails into my skin and frantically shakes her head, the color in her cheeks disappearing as the blood drains from her face. I anchor Violetta to me by wrapping my free hand around her waist again. Then I drop my head to rest it in the curve of her neck to fortify myself while I explore her.
Swollen flesh, followed by dampness and heat are what I discover.
I clench my teeth and swallow a groan, one that’d be more of a growl if I were to let it out. Because right now I want to let my inner beast take over. But I can’t do that.
Not unless I want to completely lose control.
She turns to stone in my embrace the moment I outline the entrance of her cunt. Her fear is understandable but temporary. Soon arousal will overtake her and she won’t remember why she was frightened to begin with. At that point Violetta will beg me to touch her, to come.
In anaudiblevoice.
Ever since I heard it I can’t stop thinking about it, replaying the memory again and again in my mind. Maybe if she had spoken any other word except my name, I could’ve let it go. The undertones of fear and desperation were stark, easily heard, but what was subtle— yet impacted me the most—was the slender thread of hope. It was as though Violetta called to me because she instinctively knew if I came for her she’d be saved.
That confidence in my abilities, along with her specifically wantingmeto handle whatever she was dealing with, struck a chord.
For the first time in my life someone needed me. Not due to the authority I have as the eldest male in my family or because of the influence and wealth at my disposal. Or even because of my physical appearance and my skills in bed. It was simply for Tristano, for the man I am once everything else has been stripped away.
No other woman has done that.
