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"This or me?"
"Both."
I sit on the couch next to her and slide my arm around her waist. "I missed you too."
I pull her body onto mine, so she's straddling me. My cock strains against her.
One inch at a time, I enter her. I can feel her stretching to take me.
Violet sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. Her hands go to my shoulders and squeeze tight.
She presses her eyelids together. "Fuck, Ethan."
God damn, she feels good. I bring my hands to her hips and I guide her body over mine. I go slow, until her nerves are gone, until the look in her eyes is nothing but desire.
Then I go faster. I pull her body closer to take her breast into my mouth. She groans with pleasure, rocking her hips as I suck on her nipple.
Fuck, the way Violet's moan echoes around the bus, the taste of her skin, the feeling of her folds enveloping me…
This isn't like with anyone else.
This is everything.
Her thighs squeeze against my hips. Her nails dig into my shoulders.
I let my body lead. I thrust into her, sucking on one nipple then the other. I go harder. Faster. Until she's panting and shaking with pleasure.
"Come on my cock, Vi," I groan.
She rocks her hips to match my movements. A few more thrusts and she's there. I watch the orgasm spread over her face. Her eyes close. Her lips part with a long, heavy sigh.
Her cunt pulses around me.
God damn.
I give her a moment to catch her breath, then I lay her flat on her back, and I thrust hard and deep. She wraps her legs around my waist, rocking her hips to meet my movements.
Right now, her body is mine. And my body is hers. The two of us are exactly where we belong.
I move harder. Faster. Deeper. She sucks on my neck. Her groans vibrate over my shoulders and chest.
Fuck. I tug at her hair as an orgasm overtakes me.
She groans with pleasure, watching my expression contort as I come.
I don't stop until I've spilled every drop.
After I come down, I collapse behind her, wrap my arms around her, and hold her body against mine until we've both caught our breath.
Chapter 16
Violet
After Ethan and I clean off the couch, we squeeze into the much too small tour bus shower. He laughs over my inability to slip past him to reach the shampoo, the bastard.
"Here, I've got it." He pulls the showerhead from its stand—the thing is detachable—and uses it to rinse my hair.
"That must come in handy."
