Chapter 40
forty
. . .
Rowan
We spend the rest of the day talking until the sun sets and the room grows dark around us, neither of us bothering to turn on a light.
I can only see her silhouette, the soft curve of her cheek, the shine in her eyes. I reach over and turn on the lamp beside us, needing to see her face clearly.
I reach for it, my thumb brushing across her cheek. “I’m still not certain why you fell for me, Violet.”
She leans into my touch, eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “I didn’t fall for you all at once,” she says softly. “It wasn’t fireworks or some big moment I can point to.”
She shifts closer, folding one leg beneath her. “It was little things that kept sneaking up on me. Like that time Zack kept making those awful comments about my braces, and the next day he showed up with a black eye that he wouldn’t explain to anyone.”
“I never told you that was me.”
There’s a slight upturn of her lips. “You didn’t have to. You also used to wait by my locker even though your next class was all the way across the building. You were always late because of me.”
“Worth it,” I murmur.
“And that rainy day during our senior year when my car ran out of fuel and you walked two miles in a downpour to bring me a gas can.” Her voice softens. “You were soaked to the bone, but you still smiled when you saw me.”
I remember that day. She’d called me in a panic, and I’d dropped everything. I hadn’t even thought twice about the weather.
“You also used to leave notes in my textbooks,” she continues. “Little ripped up pieces of paper with terrible jokes that always made me laugh at the worst times. My chemistry teacher confiscated one once and read it out loud.”
A booming laugh escapes me, because I remember that, too. “Hey, want to swap oxidation numbers?”
She just shakes her head with a grin. “I think I fell a little bit more in love with you every day for years. And now you bring my horse a carrot every morning and make terrible coffee, but I love you even more for it.”
I’ve spent years holding tight to every scrap of affection she ever showed me, tucking them away like treasures. There’s something about hearing her say it out loud that makes my chest ache with a fullness I can barely contain.
She’s always seen me clearer than I see myself. Even when I was that half-wild teenager in borrowed clothes, pretending indifference was a personality trait instead of a defense mechanism.
There are a dozen things clawing up my throat. Gratitude. Awe. The overwhelming urge to kiss her senseless, drop to my knees, and swear my lifelong devotion to her. There are no words that could ever be enough to capture what I feel for her.
So I don’t say anything. I just lace my fingers through hers and squeeze, hoping she understands the weight behind it.
She squeezes back, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “You know…for a guy who always has something to say, you’re awfully quiet.”
I huff a laugh. “Trying not to ruin the moment.”
Violet arches a brow. “Who says talking would ruin it? I’ve heard your sweet talk before, remember?”
I groan. “High school Rowan was an idiot.”
“He was an adorable idiot,” she teases.
I groan louder. “Violet. Please. Spare me.”
She gives me that soft, easy laugh that always makes me want to wrap her up and never let go. “‘If you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber.’”
I drag my hand down my face. “I hate myself.”
She’s laughing harder now, and damn if it doesn’t ease every last knot in my chest. I could listen to her laugh for the rest of my life and still never get enough. She tilts into me, laughter fading as her head comes to rest against my chest
My arm comes around her instinctively, fingers brushing her shoulder, then settling. This is exactly what she was talking about. It’s not the fireworks or the declarations, but the absolute certainty that sneaks in while you’re not paying attention.
I press my chin to the top of her head. “You know, my sweet talk might have been terrible, but I’ve never heard you complain about the other kind.”
She tilts her head up. “What other kind?”
I lower my voice. “I think you know exactly what I mean.”
She shivers against me, color blooming across her cheeks, that soft pink that wrecks me every time. She worries her bottom lip between her teeth but holds my gaze. Bold even as she’s blushing. “Hmm. Feels irresponsible not to offer a reminder. Might need a refresher.”
I hum in response. “A refresher. Let’s see…
You want me to tell you how I’m dying to take you right here?
How I want to slide my hands under that shirt and feel how firm those perfect tits are in my palms?
” My voice drops lower, rougher. “How I’d spread your thighs and taste you until you’re begging me for mercy? ”
Her breath catches, pupils dilating as she shifts against me. “Rowan…”
“I’d make you come with just my tongue,” I continue, letting my hand slide up her thigh, stopping just short of where she wants me. “And then I’d fuck you so deep you’d feel me for days.”
A small sound escapes her throat, somewhere between a gasp and a moan. Her fingers curl into my shirt, tugging me closer.
“You like that?” I whisper, my lips grazing the shell of her ear. “You like when I tell you how hard I get for you? How tight you feel when I’m inside you?”
“Yes,” she breathes, her eyes fluttering closed.
I trace the curve of her jaw with my thumb, tipping her face up to mine.
“I’m thinking about bending you over the arm of this couch,” I growl, my hand sliding higher up her thigh, savoring the way she trembles beneath my touch.
“Spanking that gorgeous ass while you beg for more. Taking you from behind while I pull your hair, making you scream my name over and over until your throat’s raw. ”
Her breathing quickens as she presses against me, her fingers digging into my thigh.
“Then I’d flip you over,” I growl, “so I could watch your face when you come. I love seeing those pretty eyes roll back, hearing those little gasps you make when you’re right on the edge.”
“Please,” she whispers, and the need in her voice makes my cock throb.
I slide my hand higher, my fingers brushing against the seam of her jeans. “You’re soaked through these, aren’t you? If I slipped my hand inside right now, you’d be dripping all over my fingers.”
My cock throbs from the sight of her, all flushed and needy from my words. It’s enough to make me lose my goddamn mind.
“I think you should find out,” she whispers.
I don’t need to be told twice. I pop the button on her jeans, sliding my hand beneath the denim. The slick heat that greets me is evidence of exactly how much she wants me. I groan at the contact, two fingers sliding against her through the thin fabric of her underwear.
“Fuck, baby,” I rasp. “You’re drenched.”
Her hips buck against my hand, seeking more pressure. I trace circles around her clit, teasing her through the cotton. Her head falls back, exposing the delicate line of her throat.
I can’t resist her. I lean in, my lips finding the soft curve where her neck meets her shoulder. I drag my tongue slowly up the column of her throat, feeling her pulse flutter wildly beneath my mouth. Her skin is hot silk against my tongue as I trace a path to her jaw, savoring every inch of her.
“So sweet,” I groan. I suck gently at her pulse point, careful not to leave marks where they might show at work tomorrow, though I’m desperate to brand her everywhere.
She makes a desperate sound that shoots straight to my cock, her hands clutching at my shoulders before she moves to straddle my lap.
Her fingers slide beneath the hem of my shirt, nails scraping lightly against my abdomen.
“Christ, Violet, please.” My muscles tense under her touch as she starts to rock against me. “You need to stop.”
Her movements slow, but she doesn’t pull away. “Why?” she asks, voice husky with desire.
“Because it’s been too long since I’ve been inside you,” I admit. “And if you keep this up, I’m either going to come in my fucking pants or I really am going to bend you over this couch and fuck you until you can’t remember your own name.”
Her eyes darken, pupils blown wide with desire as she stares down at me. Her lips crash against mine with a desperation that knocks the air from my lungs. She tastes like wine and promises, and I’m helplessly intoxicated by both.
“Take me,” she insists. “God, Rowan. Please. Take me right here.”
I flip our positions in an instant, pinning her beneath me on the couch. Her surprised gasp turns into a moan as I grind against her, letting her feel exactly what she’s done to me.
“You sure?” I ask, voice strained as I trail kisses down her neck.
“Yes,” she breathes, arching into me.
I drag her jeans down her legs, my patience wearing dangerously thin. She lifts her hips to help, and I toss the denim aside. Her panties follow quickly, leaving her exposed from the waist down.
“Look at you,” I growl, taking in the sight of her. “So fucking beautiful.”
Even with desire coursing through my veins like wildfire, I can’t help but worship every curve, every freckle, every inch of skin that’s mine to touch.
She reaches for me, impatient, but I catch her wrists gently, pinning them above her head with one hand.
“Not yet,” I whisper against her collarbone. “Let me look at you first.”
Her breath hitches as I trail my free hand down her body, my touch deliberately gentle despite the urgency pounding through me. I could take her hard and fast—god knows we both want it—but I want to savor this, to show her with every touch how precious she is to me.
I release her wrists to pull off her shirt and unhook her bra, sliding them off with careful hands.
She’s perfect, all soft curves and flushed skin, nipples hardening under my gaze.
I lower my head, taking one peak into my mouth, sucking gently while my hand slides between her thighs, finding her already wet for me.
I take my time, exploring her body like it’s the first time, memorizing each gasp and sigh. When my finger slips inside her, her body lifts off the couch in a silent plea, and it takes everything in me not to give in to the feral need to claim her completely.
“Rowan,” she pleads, her fingers digging into my shoulders. “Please.”
I rise above her, framing her face between my forearms, my eyes locked on hers. “I love you,” I say, voice rough. “Every part of you.”
Her eyes soften. “I love you, too.”
My hands clamp down on her hips, gentleness burning off in an instant. I turn her over in one quick movement, guiding her onto her knees.
“Hands on the arm of the couch,” I command.
She complies immediately, positioning herself with her ass in the air, looking back at me over her shoulder with wide green eyes.
I unbuckle my belt, the metallic sound making her shiver with anticipation. I push my jeans and boxers down just enough to free myself, rock hard and aching.
“Is this what you want?” My hands drag over the curve of her ass, squeezing hard. “You want me to fuck you like this?”
“Yes,” she breathes, pushing back against me.
“So wet for me,” I murmur as I slide my hand between her legs, circling her clit with my thumb until she whimpers. “Always so ready.”
I position myself behind her, gripping her hips with bruising force as I sink into her in one powerful stroke. She cries out, her back arching beautifully as I stretch her.
“Fuck.”
I pull back slowly before slamming into her again, setting a rhythm that has her gasping. Her fingers claw at the couch cushions, desperate for purchase as I drive into her mercilessly.
“Is this what you wanted, sweet girl?” I ask, fisting her hair and pulling just enough to tilt her neck back. “To be fucked like this?”
“Yes,” she moans, the word breaking on a particularly deep thrust. “God, yes.”
I lean over her, my chest against her back, one hand braced on the arm of the couch while the other slides around to pinch her nipple.
“Rowan,” she gasps, her inner walls clenching with each press of my hips against hers.
I’m barely holding on to my control. The sight of her bent over, taking me so perfectly, her skin flushed pink where my fingers have gripped is way too much. I want to make this last, want to draw out every second of pleasure for her, but my body is screaming for release.
“Touch yourself,” I demand, my voice barely recognizable to my own ears. “I want to feel you come around my cock.”
She obeys immediately, her hand sliding between her legs. The moment her fingers find her clit, her body jerks slightly, a broken moan escaping her lips.
“That’s it, baby,” I encourage, slowing my pace. “Show me how good it feels.”
Her breathing grows ragged, her whimpers higher and desperate. She’s so damn close.
I lean down, my lips brushing her ear. “Come for me, Violet.”
She shatters beneath me, her release crashing through her in waves. I hold her steady as she rides it out, but I’m not done with her yet.