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She looks me straight in the eye, her gaze steady and unwavering. “I was made to be yours, Dante.”
With that declaration, I can’t hold back any longer and I start slowly pushing my way inside her. I’m being as gentle as I can so as not to hurt her more than necessary, but Violet is having none of it. She’s arching her back, thrusting her hips up to meet mine. The sounds of her moaning and begging fill the room.
I’m gritting my teeth and my body is covered in sweat with my attempt to hold back from ramming my cock in her to the hilt. When I’m finally seated fully inside her, I have to close my eyes. She’s so tight and the pleasure is almost too great. I can’t come the second I make it inside her pussy like some inexperienced sixteen-year-old. I breathe through my nose and start to count backward from one hundred as I wait for her body to adjust. “How do you feel, baby?”
“Perfect.” She gasps and wiggles beneath me. “Can you move?”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
She circles her hips and lets out a little moan, not of pain but of pleasure. That’s all I can take, and I pull almost all the way out before smoothly gliding back inside her tight sheath. Again and again I do this, all the while she urges me on, begging for me to go faster. It’s not long before I’m slamming into her like the wild beast she’s turned me into. I’ve never felt such pleasure in my life, and while I want to spill my load inside her, I need for her to come first. I vow to myself that her pleasure will always come before mine.
Over her cries of pleasure, the wordminekeeps repeating over and over again in my head. With every thrust I make her more mine until it becomes this physical need that takes over. I have to be the first one to paint her insides with cum. I have to be the only one.
I reach between our heaving and undulating bodies and place my thumb directly on her clit, pressing down firmly. This seems to make her almost jump out of her skin. When she starts making a mewling noise, I know I can’t hang on much longer. “Come for me, baby. I need to feel your pussy milking my cum out of me.”
My words seem to push her over the edge, and she screams, my name bouncing around the bedroom as her entire body shakes. She’s clutching at my shoulders, and her nails dig into my flesh. The sharp pain combined with her pulsing pussy shoves me over my own cliff, and I bury myself as far inside her as possible as I unload spurt after spurt of my seed deep inside her, flooding her until it’s leaking out onto the sheets.
Eventually we both come down from our high. I don’t know how long it is that we both lie there, me buried inside of her, her clutching on to me for dear life. When I start worrying I might be crushing her underneath my weight, I head to the bathroom, cleaning myself up and grabbing a warm, damp washcloth before returning to her.
She’s lying on her side in the middle of my bed, and I swear that my heart skips a beat. I never thought in my wildest dreams that she would be here. That she would want me as much as I want her. I could have guessed that she would be the best sex of my life, but it’s nice to have it confirmed.
I sit next to her and stroke her hair. “Open your legs, baby.” She’s too tired to question me and parts them so I can see where my cum is leaking out of her swollen pussy. I quickly clean her up and discard the rag before crawling back into bed and joining her.
I pull her tightly into my arms and watch as she drifts off into a sated sleep, her head on my shoulder. There’s a sense of rightness, happiness, joy even, that’s taken up residence in my body, and I know it’s all because of the tiny woman in my arms.
I always thought that there were just some people that were never lucky enough to find real, true love in their life. I figured I was one of those unlucky people. But maybe the reason that I’d never found love was because my perfect person was busy growing up, finding her own place in the world, and I just needed to be patient. Lying here with Violet in my arms, staring at her sleeping face, I know that I’m not one of the unlucky ones anymore.
NINETEEN
Violet
I never imagined that cloud nine was an actual place, yet here I am, sitting on it. Since the night we finally slept together, I’ve barely left Dante’s side. Sure, he’s had to go to job sites or meet clients, and I’ve occasionally had to dash home for new clothes or to grab something I needed for school, but all in all, we’ve been joined at the hip. You’d think that would make this burning need I have for him diminish, but no, it’s still just as strong, if not stronger. I certainly wasn’t putting as much effort into hiding this from Bianca as I had been, but luckily for us, she seemed to be busy with things of her own.
That first night together, he woke me up several times throughout the night. It was like he was desperate, hungry for my body, and I wasn’t much better. We came together again and again, each time building a stronger connection. I can feel him on my skin even when he’s not with me. We were both so carried away that we never once worried about any kind of protection.
Luckily I trust him wholeheartedly and know that he would never let me near him if he would be putting my health at risk, but it wasn’t until the next morning when he was holding me in his arms that I remembered to tell him I was on birth control, so he didn’t have to worry. While the thought of having a little person who’s a combination of both Dante and me sends my heart into overdrive, I know that’s not what he wants, so I’m glad I could reassure him we were safe. But my reassurances were met with a strange look on his face that I didn’t understand. Just as I was about to ask him what was wrong, he was back to his normal smiling self, and I shrugged it off.
A few days later, I was coming back after class, and I found him buried deep in the back of a cabinet in the kitchen. When I questioned him about what he was doing, his smile nearly blew me away. He presented me with a set of rather expensive baking pans, a stand mixer, and cabinets that were fully stocked with all the baking basics I could ever need.
He said it was because he wanted me to bake whenever I wanted, but he also wanted me there with him. I’d like to say that I accepted the gift gracefully, but instead I burst into tears. That seemed to really freak him out. He rushed over to me, promising that he could take it all back and we could pick out things together. He didn’t understand that they were tears from an overwhelming sense of happiness. I’d never received such a thoughtful gift. Well, almost never, I thought while bring my hand up to play with my charm necklace. Once he understood I wasn’t upset, he kissed away my tears, then fucked me senseless on the counter. That was a fun evening.
We’ve also managed to finish the Steven King book we were reading together. Somehow, the master of horror is a little less scary when Dante’s deep and gravely voice is reading it to me. Now we’ve started a spy thriller that’s been on theNew York Timesbestseller list that we’ve both been meaning to read.
It’s been almost like a dream. Everything is going so well that I find myself holding my breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. We’ve both been staunchly avoiding bringing up the topic of telling Bianca. I’m not sure which one of us wants to avoid it more.
In fact, the only dark spot on what I would call some of the best days of my life is Tyler. I thought that his little tantrum at school would be the end of things. I guess I was just being naïve because, a few days later, I started receiving texts from him. They ranged from mild, “Hey, I’m going to Chance’s tonight, do you want to meet me?” to the extreme, “Sluts like you only want scumbag men. I can’t believe I wasted my time on you.”
The only good thing is that he’s stopped showing up for class. I was so nervous to return the first time after our confrontation that I had to put my hands in my pockets to keep them from shaking. But I didn’t want to drop the class and give Tyler the satisfaction of knowing he’d messed with my head so much.
When I entered the classroom and saw that he wasn’t there, a wave of relief ran through me. Then, when the next week rolled around and he wasn’t there again, I started to relax. The texts may be continuing, but at least he’s not bold enough to confront me in person.
I’ve considered blocking his number, but the thought of not knowing what he’s up to or what his mood is makes me nervous. I’d rather keep tabs on him, even if it’s just by reading his vile texts and never responding. Telling Dante about the messages would be the next logical step, but I’m determined to handle this myself, and I don’t want to worry him needlessly. They’re just texts. I can deal with them on my own. Besides, I only get one every couple of days, and I have a feeling Dante would go absolutely ballistic and hunt down Tyler, which is something I definitely don’t want.
I hear the ding of my timer and go to the oven to pull out my bran muffins. I thought they would be nice and healthy, and Dante could grab one for breakfast when he’s on his way out to meet his guys tomorrow. When I set them on the counter, I notice they haven’t quite risen like muffins are supposed to. I tilt my head from side to side, examining them, thinking about what I might have done wrong. I know I followed the recipe I found on Pinterest to the letter, but I always follow recipes and there always seems to be something wrong.
I poke one of the little brown muffins, and it seems squishy but not exactly soft like you would expect. In fact, they remind me of those fiber cakes you can get at Trader Joe’s. Maybe I’ll just tell him that’s what they’re supposed to be. Just as I’m considering my little white lie, I hear the front door slam behind me.
“Lucy, I’m home,” he calls out with a rather impressive impersonation of Desi Arnaz. I turn to look at my man, and the butterflies take flight in my stomach once again. He’s wearing his standard uniform of work boots, blue jeans, and a tee shirt, but today sweat is causing the thin fabric to cling to him. He’s so fucking sexy. If I could, I would be waiting for him every day when he gets home for the rest of our lives. Add in a couple of kids and I honestly couldn’t imagine a more idyllic life for myself. I know that’s not what he wants, but that doesn’t stop me from dreaming.
