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“Franco …”
She said his name through gritted teeth as she soared high again, shaking against him in ecstasy as he spilled inside her a few moments later. He repeated her name over and over, as well.
He flopped on top of her as they relished in each other’s naked and shiny bodies. Violet had never felt freer in her entire life, running her hands over Franco’s head as his hot breath tingled over her skin.
It was terrifying.
TEN
FRANCO
Franco slowly returned to consciousness from the alarm he had set on his smartphone, a gentle chime of harps that sweetly raised him from a deep slumber. His routine was to get up as soon as he was awake, believing that hitting the snooze button would only encourage further lollygagging.
But that morning, there was nothing in the world he wanted more than to slam that yellow button and turn to lose himself in the paradise of the queen lying next to him.
For a very brief, fleeting moment, Franco thought he had dreamed the entire night. The dancing, the kissing in the car, the magical lovemaking in his hotel room. It had all been so surreal, fragrant, and flawless. How on earth could any of that have been reality? How was he so damn blessed?
The second he sat up from having his head pinned to the pillow, he caught her luscious scent, that tasty blend of exotic fruit and cherry blossoms. He turned to her, propping his head up with the pillow, and gazed at the form before him.
Franco thought Violet was stunning with her clothes on, the tight, form-fitted fabric a perfect tease of gift wrapping. She was somehow even more breathtaking naked, her skin smooth and creamy with the smattering of freckles scattered about her frame.
Her hair had come loose from their activity, a wash of midnight black flowing over the silky backdrop of the bed sheets. She slept soundlessly, having cast the sheets off and tucked one pillow between her sturdy thighs.
Franco had never considered himself an artist of any kind. Sure, he could appreciate rolling landscapes, painted or photographed, and could always pick out a fetching woman in a crowd of carbon copies. He would detect a spark, an essence in them that made them unique and startling to his soul. But inevitably, that would fade, and he was left to the singular passion of driving.
But staring down at Violet, he felt a calm wash of knowing move through him even as his lion stirred. He felt like a poet sitting on a hill, gazing up at the stars and dreaming or watching the thrilling spill of godly colors as they painted themselves over the horizon at dusk and twilight. There were some things that words could not grasp, that fell through hands like sand when we tried to pin them down in a laughable attempt at certainty.
She was luminescent to him in all of the forms he had seen and the ones he had yet to see. She would grow and change, but his tenderness, his compassion, all of it would be inevitable. It filled his belly with a glow like a lantern humming mutely through a lush garden.
It was a dangerous feeling, yet he could not resist it.
Franco rose out of bed to distract himself from his distressing thoughts. He heard Violet faintly stir, and he stood still, naked in the bedroom in front of the bathroom entryway.
“Hmm,” she groaned.
He didn’t want to wake her, but he needed to keep to his schedule. So he went to her, pushed her hair from her forehead, then kissed it. It was dazzlingly soft.
“Good morning, darling,” he said, stroking her hair. “I didn’t mean to wake you, but I’ve got to get going. You can lay here and doze for a bit. I don’t mind …”
He was about to say to her that she could stay there all day if she wanted when she turned to face him, her eyes abruptly wide and alert.
“No, I want to go with you,” she mumbled, voice sleepy and lovely. “What do you have to do this morning? I’ll get up.”
Franco was positively thrilled.
“I usually go for a run, hit the gym, then I go to the track for a few laps. I don’t have much time to eat, though.”
Violet sat up, stretching her arms into the air and letting out a cat-like yawn. The sheet she pressed to her breasts fell away when she did. She looked just as delicious in the morning light.
God, Franco would give anything to be able to stay there all day, lost in the bed sheets and her body, making her moan the same chorus of pleasure he had witnessed the night before. His eyes trailed over her yummy arms, circling her breasts with his mind the way he wanted to with his tongue.
When she looked back at him, she nearly caught him drooling. Something passed through her eyes, indicating that she actually may have seen more than he had bargained for. She sat there topless, grinning seductively.
“You are going to go for a run without eating?”
Franco glanced at his watch, looking to distract himself from his mounting arousal.
“I have protein powder and a few eggs I can eat quickly. I doubt that is something you’d desire this morning.”
