All of a sudden her whole body clenches, and then it shudders with relief, her orgasm rolling through her in waves, making her thighs tremble and core clench. She pulses around my fingers as she rides out her pleasure, still gripping my hair like it’s the only thing keeping her from floating away.
I flatten my tongue so she can grind against it until her orgasm subsides, and when it does, I press little kisses to the inside of her thighs. I pull my fingers out of her as I gently remove her leg from my shoulder and stand in front of her. Then I bring my fingers to my mouth and suck them clean, unable to stop myself from moaning.
My mask is next to her on the counter, and I grab it and put it on.
“You have the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted, Violet,” I tell her, the modulator masking my voice.
“Th-thanks,” she says breathlessly, making me chuckle a little.
I reach into my back pocket and grab my remote to turn the lights back on. I’m greeted by flushed cheeks and lust-hazed eyes, and there’s never been a more perfect image.
“Do you want more?” I ask as I start to take off my T-shirt.
Chapter Eight
Violet
WHEN HE TAKESoff his shirt, my eyes are immediately drawn to the purple flowers tattooed over his heart; the only piece of art on his body I’ve seen with color.
Suddenly, I’m fifteen again, sleeping over at my best friend’s house.
•••
Eight Years Ago
As I’m making my way back to Alyssa’s room from the bathroom, I pass her brother Damon’s bedroom. I pause when I notice sniffles coming from behind his closed door.
Except, those aren’t sniffles. Is he laughing?
Concerned, I knock on his door. “Damon?”
After a moment, he answers. “Hi, Violet.” His face is blotchy like he’s been crying, but those were definitely laughs I heard.
“Sorry. Are you . . . are you okay? I thought I heard crying?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” I can tell he’s lying by the way he avoids my eyes.
“Anything you want to talk about?” Damon and I are almost as close as Alyssa and I, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t want to talk to me about what’s going on. He is, after all, a boy.
“It’s, um, kind of a long story.” He grabs the back of his neck as he looks down at the floor.
“Well, Alyssa’s out cold, but I can’t sleep, so I have nothing but time.” Damon’s always been there for me when I need someone to talk to, and I want to be here for him.
“All right.” He opens the door all the way, letting me in. It’s not the first time I’ve been in his room, but I’m always pleasantly surprised by how tidy it is. And it smells good. Like cedarwood and body soap. Like Damon.
He closes the door behind me, and we both sit on the edge of the bed, facing each other. But he’s looking somewhere far away.
“So, what’s going on?” I ask after he’s silent for a minute.
He steels himself. “Has Alyssa told you anything about our dad?”
I’m surprised by the question for a moment, but then I think about it and realize she hasn’t. I know their parents divorced, and that’s why they switched schools, but other than that, I don’t know anything about the man. “She hasn’t told me much, why?”
“He died.”
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.” Fuck, no wonder he was crying.
“I’m not,” he states.
