“You take me so good,” I praise, watching her as she lifts her gaze to mine. There’s a dare in her eyes when she shifts my cock closer to my stomach. My balls quiver as her hot tongue sweeps over my skin, going low enough until she hits that strip of skin under them.
“Jesus Christ,” I breathe out heavily.
I can’t control myself. My head tilts back and rests on the chair. My eyes screw themselves shut, and I sink into the bliss ofhaving her mouth on me, on what it feels like to notfeelanything but her.
She’s never touched me there before but this sensation that causes my skin to shudder and my balls to tighten is heavenly. So much that I wouldn’t give a fuck if my time came the second I released, which grows closer the more she plays with me.
“Does that feel okay?” she asks between pleasuring my balls and the space below.
“Vi, baby, it feels so fuckinggood that it has me wanting to fuck your throat until I come.” I shift my head and look at her. “Is that what you want? To taste me?”
Her cheeks match the same shade of pink from after we fucked that first time. The night I led her into her apartment, and we got lost in each other. I’ve craved her every day since, and now is no different. She’s made me long for these moments only to hoard the memories in the deepest recesses of my mind. I never want to forget this—her—but I know when all is said and done, all I’ll have left is the box in my head I’ve scribbled her name on.
“Mmm, maybe I would like that,” she mewls. “Would you?”
“You know I would,” I grind out roughly.
She laps at me until I can’t take it and brings her mouth back up to my tip. I guide her back onto me, and she takes me whole.
A few times, she pushes me back so far that if I close my eyes, I swear it’s her pussy I’m lost in. Her gags are the only reminder that it’s not. I push deeper every chance I can, and when that familiar heat swishes down low, I let my orgasm rip through me like a hurricane in the night.
Ribbons of tension paint the back of her throat. It’s so fucking hot that it spurs my release on longer than I expect, giving her a mouthful that she proudly takes.
TEN
COLSON
I zip my pants,the sharp hissing of metallic causing tense sparks in the air. If this was a week ago, I would’ve clasped Violet’s hands in mine and brought her up to her feet. I would’ve dragged her leggings down her long legs and placed my mouth over every inch of her skin, and after, I would have eaten her out until she trembled and stars scattered her vision.
Unfortunately, it’s not a week ago, and as much as I’d love to let this continue, it needs to end. I hate how selfless she’s being and how easy it is to take advantage of that. I don’t want to be the guy who depletes her and makes her realize that she deserves so much more than she’s getting. She’s already had a similar experience with Webber, so how fair is it to turn around and do the same to her?
She drags the back of her hand across her mouth and clears her throat. She takes a step back, giving me the space I need to gather myself and stand, then moves for her belongings that lay in a heap of fabric by the fridge. I cringe over how dirty the floor is but revel in the notion that the kitchen light isn’t all that bright. It doesn’t illuminate the entire space. Only offers a soft yellow-orange glow over half the room.
I make a mental note to clean the entire house from top to bottom when I feel up to it. I used to keep up with the cleaning when I still lived here, so it wouldn’t be anything new. It’s just a matter of getting out of my head enough to make it happen.
I sniff, the sound of it cutting through the quiet. I don’t know where we go from here, but I do know that what just happened a minute ago can’t mean that we’re back together again.
I meant it when I broke up with her. I should’ve put what was happening between us to a stop the night outside of her apartment after she got a glimpse of the dysfunction in my life. Instead of saying fuck it and putting my lips on hers, I should’ve retreated.
I should’ve let it be.
Because she deserves better than what I can offer.
Better than cold shoulders and ignored texts.
She deserves more than the lies I’ve kept to protect a person who’s no longer here.
God, what the hell would she say if she knew that I spent weeks paying off my deceased mother’s drug dealer? And in place of getting her help no less.
She pushes her arms through her jacket when I finally work up the nerve to approach her. Even in this disgusting house and in the glow of the tangerine light, she’s beautiful. I wish things weren’t so fucked up. That Mom was still alive. That I could smooth my hands into Violet’s silky hair and kiss her with all the love in my body.
I reach for her wrist. She stiffens and double blinks. There’s an obvious roll to her throat when she speaks. “It’s okay,” she murmurs, her voice so goddamn quiet. “We don’t have to?—”
“That was…” I move my hand up her arm and thumb her chin. She looks up at me, and the misty look in her gaze nearly sends me over the edge. I’m torn between wanting to drag her out of this house and dropping to my knees with an endlessstring of apologies. She stares at me, and I can’t help but praise her for a job well done, for the way she suctioned that mouth around me like we were the last two people standing and it was our last day on earth. “You were goddamn phenomenal.”
Pinkness slants over her cheeks.
My eyes flick between hers. “You like hearing that, don’t you? And knowing that you can distract me so fucking well.”
