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A safe place where nothing but pleasure existed.
Dean’s other hand closed over her breast, and even through her shirt and her bra, it was amazing. Suddenly, the next flick of Dean’s tongue and swipe of his finger had her crashing, crying out loudly, sure that her limbs were going to fall right off her body as they tightened and quivered violently.
Before she had even recovered, Violet heard a drawer open and close and the sound of a wrapper.
“Take off your top,” Dean said roughly.
Violet lifted her head and watched him slide off his boxers, his long, thick cock springing free. She had never been so eager to watch a man strip down, but Dean was beautiful, like a statue sculpted by God as a reward for mere mortal women. As he ripped open the condom wrapper with his teeth, she remembered the sharp sting of them on her neck, and the memory raised gooseflesh over her skin.
“Violet, you’re killing me, baby. If you don’t get that shirt off, I can’t guarantee its safety.”
Understanding dawned on her, and she carefully pulled her shirt over her head. She didn’t want it ripped in his eagerness. Although, the thought of a man so turned on he would rip her clothes off her body? Really hot.
Her hands were behind her, fussing with the clasp of her bra, when he picked her up and moved her to the head of the bed. One of his hands joined hers, and in seconds, he had her bra unsnapped and was sliding it down her arms.
“Should I be terrified that you can undo a bra with one hand? ’Cause that takes some serious skill,” she said.
“My best friend and I used to practice in high school.”
The image of a younger version of Dean sitting in his bedroom with another kid, trying to open a bra over and over made her giggle.
The giggle ended in a choking noise as Dean took her nipple in his mouth, sucking on her hard and fast. Violet cupped the back of Dean’s head between her hands, holding him against her as she felt his hard cock, his hips rocking. Soon she was whimpering in frustration, wanting him inside her, yet wishing that this would never end.
Then Dean shifted over her and reached down between their bodies to adjust himself against her opening. As he pressed forward, she winced and her muscles stretched to take him in. She’d never been with anyone quite so big, and it had been so long since she’d done it anyway . . .
His body stilled over hers, and his lips brushed her lips, her cheek, before finally grazing the shell of her ear.
“Relax. We have all the time in the world.”
IT WAS KILLING Dean not to move, but Violet was so tight around him, it had to hurt. And the last thing he wanted to do was hurt this sweet, beautiful woman.
Sweat broke out along Dean’s forehead as he pressed a little more and then pulled back until only the tip remained. He clasped his mouth against her neck and sucked, hoping to distract her as he slipped further in again, a little more easily this time.
Dean felt her muscles relax around his dick, and her hands swept down his back and shoulders, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Everything about Violet affected him, marking him. He wanted to please her. Wanted to take care of her.
“It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s better now.”
Dean took her at her word and started to move, slowly at first with long, gentle strokes as his body protested, dying to drive into her like a battering ram. When her hips began to chase him, Dean lifted up on his arms, watching her face as he thrust inside her hard and fast, sheer lust ripping through him as her eyes rolled back and closed. Her pink, full lips opened, and a raspy moan escaped as he did it again.
And then he stopped thinking, stopped worrying as he lost himself in Violet. In the fiery mass of her hair spread out across his bed. In the sweet scent of her perfume and the heat of their bodies as they moved in sync, as if she was made for him.
When Violet’s muscles spasmed around him and she dug her nails into his arms, he gritted his teeth, willing his body to hang on j
ust a little longer.
“Oh, God, God, God.” The last word hit such a high pitch that it nearly shattered his hearing, and then she was trembling beneath him, her body tighter than a bowstring. He let go, yelling with his release as he came. Two more thrusts until he was spent, the tension draining from his body, and he lowered himself onto his elbows, resting his lips against her neck and trying not to crush her. Their rapid breathing caused her breasts to press against his chest over and over, leaving him still hard and aching inside her.
“I think you killed me,” he said. Soft, breathless laughter made her clench down on his cock, and he groaned, reflexively jerking his hips. “Don’t laugh, or you will kill me.”
“Then stop making me.” Her lips brushed his shoulder, and then she bit down, hard enough that he pulled back. “Didn’t you . . . go?”
“Yeah, I went,” he said.
“Then how come you’re still . . . ”
“Hard?”
“Yeah.” She seemed concerned, and he laughed.
