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“Is this a position you often take?” she joked, finding humor in it.
She felt him smirk against her neck. His arm curled around her tummy, allowing him access to her pussy. His fingers grazed her clit. Her nerves were alive, and she rubbed back hard against his cock.
“Maybe it’s the animal in me that likes this position,” he said back. “But I promise you’ll like it too.”
He ground into her, his cock rubbing between her folds. Their skin slipped over each other, and she licked her lips. She could almost taste her next orgasm. She was panting, having just orgasmed but still wanting another. It wasn’t enough. She wondered if it would ever be enough.
Her tiger wanted more and would always want Franco. She wouldn’t deny her anything, not anymore.
She felt him slide into her, and she gripped the sheets once more. She had never felt so full, and the angle was hitting her G-spot. She gasped for air, and he was hardly moving.
Franco sped up, and that build-up began in her stomach. She moaned loudly and heard Franco grunt behind her. He worked her clit while he pounded into her. His other hand grabbed her hip, and a pain sliced into her leg. She cried out as another orgasm hit her, slamming into her like a speeding train.
Franco pulsed inside her, and after a moment, they both collapsed onto the sheets. He rolled over, gasping for air. He reached out, his fingers moving her hair to see her face. “Did I hurt you?”
She shook her head, looking at him. “No.”
She smelled copper and looked at his finger, seeing the blood. She looked down at her hip, seeing the scratch mark. She looked at him and smiled. They were each other’s, and no one could change that.
They lay in bed for a while, and she stared at the ceiling. She felt different. Which she knew she would. The scratch on her side was evidence that she was different. She was Franco’s.
Violet looked at him, watching him catch his breath. She smirked, watching the sweat run down his face. She rolled over, resting her chin on his chest, taking in the look of satisfaction that showed there. She noted the glimmer in his eyes, and he smiled at her.
“What?”
“I’m just looking at my husband.”
His grin widened. His hand reached up, cupping her chin. “I like when you call me that.”
“Good.” She chuckled, sitting up. “How about dinner? We haven’t eaten since lunch.”
“How about another round?” he joked, and she threw a glare at him. Just then, she heard his stomach growl, almost like it was on cue.
She laughed, slipping off the sheets and grabbing one of his shirts. She slipped it on and turned toward the bedroom door.
Violet spotted a picture frame that had shattered on their way in. She stepped around it.
“Dinner first, and maybe more after,” she yelled over her shoulder. “And we broke a picture.”
He moved behind her like lightning. She walked to the suite’s main room and opened the mini-fridge. She examined everything inside, seeing there wasn’t much to offer. She opened some cupboards as he walked in, hoping he was stocking them and not only ordering out.
“What are you looking for?”
“Food.” She looked over her shoulder. “I thought pasta sounded good.”
He opened the cabinet and pulled out what she was looking for. She grunted, stepping into his space. She inhaled his scent, which was now mixed with hers.
He started dinner, and Violet watched. Her eyes tracked every movement he made, and she thought of the scratch on her hip. The mark that showed she was his.
“After dinner do you want to go online, and we can look for the style of ring I should get,” Franco asked, looking at her. “And if we find something, we can go buy it tomorrow.”
She smiled, nodding at that idea. She wanted the world to know he was hers.
“Sounds like a plan.”
She could see this being her future, and she suddenly couldn’t wait for it. Violet smiled at him, leaned onto the counter, and allowed her mind to wander. She imagined her new life smiling as she did.
TWENTY-THREE
