Chapter Fourteen
In which who knew gun play was such an aphrodisiac?
Violet…
Ordinarily, in moments like these, sensible Violet would be questioning, Are you sure this is what you want? This makes things complicated.
Apparently, sensible Violet has been gagged, tied up and thrown in the trunk because when Roman hoists me onto the counter, my knees are spreading eagerly before he can do it.
Still, he puts his giant hands on my thighs and pushes them wider, wedging his hips between them and attacking my mouth again.
I have a feeling that Roman kisses the way he has sex, aggressive, greedy, his hands digging into my hair and moving my head to where he wants it.
He bites down on my lower lip and I yelp, shocked. I can taste the faint, coppery tang and it makes me kiss him harder.
“Fuck, your lips are hot,” he groans. “Like you're on fire inside. Are you going to feel like that when I shove my cock in you?"
“You're a dirty talker?” I blurt. "That is so good."
He laughs before moving his mouth down my neck and shoving me further back on the counter. I've got one elbow trying to hold my balance and the other gripping his shoulder, feeling his muscles bunch and twist as he reaches down, ripping my leggings off.
The way he's looking me over makes me want to cringe, and hide my face in my hands.
But I can't take my eyes off him as he drops to his knees and presses his mouth against my center, still covered with a fairly useless scrap of cotton.
He breathes in deep and this time, I do cover my face with my hands, my head falling to the counter with a clunk.
I hear him chuckle, and then a sharp click.
I open my eyes to see him running a switchblade up the inside of my thigh, the steel gleaming as he slides the tip under one side of my undies and cuts it.
The fabric slices like butter and I freeze, terrified that even breathing too hard might make him cut something I'll need later, like my femoral artery.
He's already onto the other side, and when the fabric is nothing but shreds, he rips off my undies and sticks them in his pocket.
“Tell me, Violet," he sounds terrifyingly calm about it all. “Is your pussy as hot as your mouth?"
"I- I didn't know there is any way to measure something like that," I stammer.
Why do I bother answering? He already has his mouth against me.
A full, greedy kiss with his tongue, swiping through my center and circling my clitoris.
It's greedy, no finesse, more of a savage mauling and oh my God, nothing could feel this good.
My hips buck and he wraps his arms around my thighs, holding me still.
“Stop moving,” he says, his mouth voice muffled against my pussy. "You’re distracting me."
“Sorry!” I wheeze. His hand slides up my stomach, yanking at my bra until the cups are pulled down.
He twists my nipple between his fingers, tugging harshly.
It hurts, just the way I expect it to, but there's something connected between his calloused fingers and my center because electricity zings down my spine, making me tighten my thighs against his head. Roman answers with a guttural chuckle.
I'm wet and I'm so damn close and I can feel blood surge into my center and the giddy feeling of, oh my god I'm going to come is rattling through my brain and…
He pulls back.
"Why did you stop?” I demand, propping myself up on my elbows.
“You’re not coming like that," he says, standing up, ripping off his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. "You'll come with me inside you."
When he pulls down his jeans and his boxer briefs low enough to pull himself out, I dig into the counter with my elbows, trying to back up. "Wait, we should talk about this," I stammer, staring at his tattooed hand wrapped around his cock, pulling on it slowly.
And it is a cock.
This is no Victorian "member" or even a dick. It's thick and long and aggressive and right at the tip, there's a piercing, gleaming dully under the light.
"What is… that's a piercing." I observe stupidly.
"It is, baby," he says, kissing me. "It's all for you. When I push inside you, it's going to rub against all those sensitive places. The ones that start with a letter like G, or A, and end with 'spot'."
"You know your anatomy," I laugh breathlessly but still a little freaked out.
He slides a finger inside me and then another, kissing me. "You're ready."
"I'm not sure! Maybe we should -"
"You're clean," he interrupts, kissing me harshly. "So am I. You had a contraceptive shot at your last doctor's visit."
"What the hell? Are you?–"
The broad head of his cock pushes inside me and I can feel the stretch already, a burn that radiates through my entire center, and impossibly, my clitoris is even harder. Roman seems to notice because he puts his thumb on it, stroking around it firmly.
It should be too much. I'm too sensitive, but somehow it blends with the whole heat and sting of him and I can barely breathe.
Everything around us narrows down just to the feel of him inside me.
He fucks me, hands gripping my ass, and I mindlessly push against him.
There's nothing left of me. Just my body filled past bursting, cock buried inside me, slippery wetness.
My back arches every time he tugs on my nipples. He bites the thin skin of my throat, kisses it, bites again. His skin is gleaming with sweat and I'm mindlessly leaving scratches, trying to anchor myself.
When he thrusts impossibly, painfully high, my legs fly up as I shriek and he pulls them against his chest, banding my thighs with one arm.
Mindlessly arching my hips, I can feel the piercing now, the hard rub of it against my soft walls and oh…
I can feel my orgasm beginning to shiver up my spine and it's too fast to fight it.
It barrels through me and Roman laughs breathlessly as my hands grip and slip on his sweaty skin.
"Like a fucking furnace," he grunts. "I knew you would be. It feels like you're melting the skin off my cock."
"Sor – sorry," I gasp.
"Don't be. I could live inside you." He gives another greedy, guttural chuckle. "Stay buried forever inside this perfect, fiery cunt."
There's nothing to do but grab the front of his shirt and hold on as he hammers into me.
I know I'm going to deeply regret this tomorrow morning when I wake up and I'll be limping. But it will be worth it. Worth it that a man as insanely hot and delicious and powerful as Roman wants me. I know from the unhinged way he's shoving into me that he really, really wants me.
"I'm going to need another one." He hitches up my thighs, lifting my ass off the counter, and angles his hips.
Now, his piercing is not just rubbing against me, it feels like it's scraping a path through me and I'm insanely wet, gushing wet, and when he tugs on my nipples, hard and slaps them, I come again.
Shrieking this time, no quiet, good girl orgasm.
Screaming. A wild, unhinged screech, barely hearing his whisper of, "That's good, sweet Violet, just like that. Let me hear you."
Long fingers grip my thighs, knuckles white against my skin, and he slams inside me hard and holds, flooding me. His head tilts back, teeth gritted, tendons tight in his neck.
Roman is like a beautiful statue, a weird fever dream of perfection, and the thought that I made him come this hard sends me over the edge again, too.