My hunger for Violetta is becoming dangerous, not only to her but me as well. It’s very close to an obsession and I can’t afford that. No one except me is the master of my life, and that includes my thoughts, which have been plagued by her ever since the first time she courageously met my gaze without flinching.
Violetta is off-limits for me, yet that doesn’t mean a damn thing to me when she’s shaking in my arms, moaning in my ear, and her cunt clenches around my fingers.
All I know is I have to get rid of my addiction for her.
Either I stay away from her by utilizing my self-control, which grows weaker with every moment I’m around her, or I can fuck Violetta until the very thought of her bores me. Sleeping with the same woman after an initial encounter is something I’ve never done and that might have to change…
The difference is, having sex with Violetta comes with complications and consequences.
Her hand falls away from the material of my shirt as she continues to breathe unsteadily, the puffs of warm air brushing past the base of my throat. I languidly stroke her cunt, not willing to remove my fingers just yet. Having her pliant and satiated while resting on my lap brings a strange contentment I haven’t felt before. I chalk it up to Violetta being a challenge that I’ve conquered, and assume the feeling is nothing other than satisfaction.
The newness of her will fade soon, I’m sure.
“Ribelle?”
She slowly lifts her head and I’m not able to clearly see the alluring hues of her eyes due to the setting sun, but I can’t mistake the haze of wonder still swirling in their depths. I run my gaze over her flushed cheeks and swollen lips, and my satisfaction morphs into something else, something deeper I can’t identify.
“Are you still scared of what I’ve done to you?”
She starts to shake her head and if it weren't for my hold on her, Violetta would shoot from my lap when I roughly thumb her clit. After that jolt travels through her, she scrunches her face in momentary bliss while her cunt squeezes my fingers.
No, she mouths with her eyes still closed.
“That’s how it should be. There’s nothing you should fear when you’re with me.”
With an exhale of frustration, I remove my hand from her drenched cunt and retrieve my handkerchief to wipe off my fingers. The temptation to suck them, to really taste her is one I have to forgo unless I want to lose all control and fuck her like an animal on these leather seats. I’ve already had my focus broken because of her and I can’t allow that to continue.
Violetta’s gaze widens and I follow her line of sight to the material in my hand. It has streaks of blood on it, the policeman’s to be exact. I see nothing wrong because when I look at the crimson stains I’m reminded of how I shot that motherfucker in the head. Did he really think he could touch Violetta and still live? Such a foolish notion.
I tuck the linen back into my pocket and place a single fingertip beneath her chin to keep her in place. “That blood was the result of him trying to fuck with someone under my protection. And that’s what’ll happen toanyonewho thinks to touch you.Hai capacito?”
The relief in her eyes is evident.Yes.
“Excellent. Now be a good girl and go sit in your seat.”
She hesitates. It’s only for a second, maybe even half of one, but I catch it. The question is why? Did she want to stay with me? And if so, for what reason? I assume that if she’d prefer to remain sitting on my lap it would be due to fear and nothing else. After the police harassed us and threatened to rape her and Octavia, I can only imagine Violetta wanting to feel secure and I don’t begrudge her for it.
When she moves to sit where I told her, regret flows over me. It’s like a breeze, passing quickly and gone within the blink of an eye, but I can’t deny it.
I adjust my cock, which is stiff as fuck, and it draws Violetta’s attention. She stares at it with an almost quizzical or intellectual expression and my lips twitch with suppressed amusement. Although she’s seen my cock in the flesh, the woman almost looks hypnotized by it.
To fuck with her, I grip it through my pants and run my thumb over the head. Violetta jerks her gaze up and her cheeks flood with color.
“Put your seatbelt on,” I say.
She delays a little too long for my liking.
I lean toward her and lower my voice, not really keen on the idea of Benito hearing me. The entire time I touched Violetta, no one glanced in our direction due to the noises created by the vehicle’s tires trampling over the uneven terrain. We left the main road a while ago and the dense forests around us indicate we are leaving civilization further behind.
“If you don’t do what I say, then that’s going to earn you a punishment,” I say, “one that I’m very happy to administer at my earliest convenience.”
Violetta gulps and then reaches for the seat belt to secure it in the buckle. Then she turns away from me with her arms folded underneath her breasts.
She is a vision.
I indulge myself by looking at her, by taking in the gentle slopes and curves of her profile, as well as her figure. She purses her lips and tilts her head while peering at something in the distance, and I commit every detail of this visual to my mind. Her dark hair flutters about because of the windows being down and the wind shifting the curly tendrils gives her an ethereal look.
There’s something very alluring and captivating about Violetta, besides her natural beauty. I think it’s because of the contrasts in her. She is both an innocent and a temptress, as well as a challenge and a victory. The dichotomy of her fascinates me.
