Chapter 30 #2
Heat floods me all over. My chest, my thighs, the low pull between my legs. Every nerve in my body hammers awake.
“I’m a little sore but…the good kind. I want you, Rowan.”
“Thank fuck,” he says, voice rough. “I’ll never get enough of you.”
His hand slides down the curve of my spine, resting at the top of my ass. “Look at you,” he growls. “Perfect.”
His thumb drags lightly over my skin, just enough to make me squirm. “You know I’m not here to hurt you, right?” His tone hardens, but there’s a thread of care in the roughness. “If anything’s too much, if it ever feels wrong, you tell me to stop. Got it?”
I nod, heart hammering. “Got it.”
A slow, approving grin tugs at his lips. “Good. Because I want to see how far I can push you.”
Without warning, his hand comes down on my ass with a sharp crack that startles a cry from me. The sting blooms into a heat that radiates through my entire body.
“Too much?”
I shake my head, pressing back against him. “More.”
His palm connects again, the impact harder and sending a jolt of pleasurable pain that makes me gasp. He rains down three more in quick succession, each one making me cry out, my fingers twisting in the sheets.
“You take it so well,” he praises, his voice thick with approval. “Such a good girl for me.”
The blunt head of his cock pressing against my entrance. He’s bigger than I remembered from last night, thicker, and my body tenses instinctively.
“Easy,” he breathes, his free hand sliding up my spine in a soothing caress that contrasts sharply with the sting radiating across my backside. “Breathe for me.”
I draw in a shaky breath, forcing my muscles to relax. He waits, patient despite the tension I can feel thrumming through his body.
Then he starts to push forward, and—
He stops abruptly, cursing under his breath. “Fuck. Hold on.”
“What’s wrong?” I ask, twisting to look at him over my shoulder.
His hand stalls mid-reach toward the nightstand. “Condom.”
“I don’t want one.”
His brow furrows, confusion and concern warring in his expression. “Violet, we talked about this. I’m not taking chances with—”
“I’m on birth control,” I remind him. “And you said you’re clean.”
His eyes darken, jaw clenching as he processes what I’m saying. “You’re sure?”
“Yes,” I breathe. “I want to feel you. Just you.”
He moves to grip my hip while his other hand slides up my spine to the back of my neck, pressing me down until my cheek is flat against the mattress. “I’m going to fuck you now, Violet. Hard.”
With one powerful thrust, he buries himself inside me to the hilt. I cry out, the sudden fullness overwhelming. My body struggles to accommodate him. He doesn’t give me time to adjust, pulling back only to slam forward again, setting a brutal pace.
“Fuck…” he groans. “This cunt was made for my cock.”
Each rock of his hips drives me forward, my breasts dragging against the sheets, creating a delicious friction against my sensitive nipples. Any remaining pain has melted into a pleasure so intense it borders on unbearable.
His hand slides to the front of my neck, wrapping around my throat. He applies just enough pressure to make my heart hammer under his palm without stealing my air.
“Is this what my sweet girl wanted? To be spanked and fucked bare?”
I can only moan in response. My brain is foggy, too busy screaming yes, too busy craving, too busy loving the way he says it like he’s both owning me and checking in at the same time.
Sweet girl? I’m not sweet right now. I’m fire, and heat, and ache, and… Oh god, yes, all of it.
He releases my throat, his hand tangling in my hair instead, yanking my head back. The new angle has him driving even deeper.
“So tight, so responsive…fuck, Violet. Tell me you’re mine,” he demands, punctuating the words with a particularly brutal thrust that makes me cry out.
“I’m yours,” I gasp. “Only yours.”
His rhythm falters for just a second before he pulls out abruptly, flipping me over onto my back. I barely catch my breath before he’s on me again, hooking my legs over his shoulders as he drives into me with renewed intensity.
He’s impossibly, gloriously deep, hitting places inside me I didn’t know existed. My hands fly to his chest, not pushing him away but needing something to anchor me as pleasure builds to an almost excruciating peak.
“Violet,” he commands, one hand gripping my jaw and forcing my eyes to his. “You better look at my face when you come on my cock.”
His thumb presses against my bottom lip, pushing into my mouth. I suck it instinctively, tasting salt and skin.
“Come for me,” he growls, his pace becoming punishing. “Now.”
My orgasm crashes through me all at once and everywhere.
My back arches, chest heaving, head thrown back, and I can’t stop the sounds that spill out of me.
I don’t know if they’re moans, gasps, or broken cries.
I’m dizzy, high, completely undone, and I love it.
Every snap of muscle, every press of his hands, every demanding drive that’s tearing me apart—my body is screaming yes, yes, yes, and my brain can only cling to one glorious thought.
I am so alive right now.
“Violet,” he groans, his voice breaking. “Fuck.” Thrust. “I’m going to—”
His entire body goes rigid against mine as he slams into me one final time. I feel each pulse, each shudder as he empties himself inside me, and my own body reacts in kind, trembling around him.
He eventually collapses beside me. For several long moments, we stay like that, both sweat-slicked and spent. He cradles me against his chest, holding me close as our heartbeats gradually slow.
“Goddamn,” he breathes against my hair. “Are you okay?”
I nod against his chest, too blissed out for words. It’s as if my entire body has turned into melted wax—warm and pliant and impossibly satisfied.
His hand glides down my spine, the touch featherlight. “Did I scare you?” he asks, voice tight with concern. “Was that too much?”
I lift my head to look at him, finding his eyes clouded with worry. This fierce man who just claimed me so thoroughly is suddenly uncertain.
“No,” I whisper, reaching up to touch his face. “You didn’t scare me.”
His brow furrows as his fingers gently trace the new marks blooming on my hips. “I lost control,” he mutters.
I press a quick kiss to his chest, feeling that ridiculously fast heartbeat under my lips, and grin against him. “I didn’t want you to be in control.”
His eyes search mine until it seems he believes me. “Okay,” he says softly, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead before slipping from the bed.
I hear water running in the bathroom, and a moment later, he returns with a warm washcloth. He sits beside me on the bed, his touch impossibly gentle as he cleans between my thighs.
“Turn over,” he directs, and I comply, wincing slightly as my muscles protest.
His breath catches. “Christ, Violet.”
I glance over my shoulder to see him staring at what must be red marks across my backside, maybe even the imprint of his fingers. His expression is a mixture of awe and guilt.
“Hey,” I say softly, reaching for his hand. “I’m okay. More than okay.”
He sets the washcloth aside. “You’re too perfect,” he murmurs, a hint of wonder in his voice. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else. Not that there was ever going to be anyone else.”
I can’t help the swell of pride that fills my chest. “Yeah?” I ask, unable to keep the smile from my voice.
He laughs, the sound warm and genuine. “Definitely.”
He brings himself to a stand. “Let me get a shower running for you. Warm water will help with the soreness.”
“Are you saying I look like I need help, Wolfe?” I call after him.
He slips back into the room after a minute, that familiar glint of amusement lighting his eyes as I bring myself to the edge of the bed, wincing when my feet hit the floor.
“You gonna make it, or do you want me to carry you to the shower?”
I roll my eyes. Every muscle in my body is deliciously sore, thoroughly used in the best possible way.
“I’m perfectly capable of walking,” I insist, taking one step forward before my knees buckle.
Rowan’s arms are around me in an instant, lifting me effortlessly against his chest. “You were saying?”
I loop my arms around his neck. “This is very caveman of you.”
“Get used to it, Larkin.”