Chapter Nine #2
The fridge is stocked, and I order in pizza for us, after asking what Vi would prefer.
But as we eat and sip at wine, it feels…not quite right.
Like a distance has popped up, one full of sharp corners and things that bump clumsily against the other. Like that distance is, at once, stretched tight and squished in close quarters.
I’m not sure why.
Maybe she doesn’t want to stay with me like this, a protracted time that doesn’t seem to end, and even though I told her she has the option of going back home, it is just too much flapping in the wind without a set date pinning it down.
I don’t fucking know.
So, I go out of my way to be accommodating, watching her for clues to what it is she wants.
Shit, all I’ve done is force her into a world of being with me, Cade.
There’s nothing fantasy about that, is there?
For a moment, I breathe slowly, carefully.
I haven’t been pursuing any of her fantasies. Sure, I’m still recovering, but that isn’t why. Not fully.
I’m up for the fucking about we did at Enzo’s, but I didn’t make it bigger. Partly because he was there.
If I’m brutally honest, I fingered her in front of him, so holding back isn’t an issue.
So, what the fuck is it?
I’m not a man given to self-doubt.
Yet, here I am. Swimming in it.
I don’t want to screw this up.
Pure and simple.
“I can set up the guest room for you, if you like. It’s set up, anyway, but freshen it up. If you don’t want to share a room with me.”
She pushes off the couch and stands in front of me, before leaning in, hands either side of my head on the back of the sofa, and then she slides on to my lap.
“Are you an idiot, Cade?”
I blink at her “Excuse me?”
“Are you an idiot? Because, what are you doing? None of this is you. The polite asking me what pizza I want—”
“I’m a polite person. And I always ask what you want to eat.”
She closes her eyes and breathes out. “Not what I mean. And yes, you do. I like that about you.” Then Vi opens her green eyes. “But you’re being way too nice, you’re giving me space, offering me my apartment, my own room, giving me…options.”
She says this like I committed a crime.
“One of my favorite things about our relationship is you taking control. I want you to tell me I’m not going home. That I’m sleeping with you.” Vi leans in close and bites by bottom lip, sending a burst of lust to my cock. “I want you to own me.”
I consider her, relief flooding me. “Maybe I should get you a collar.”
A flush darkens her cheeks. “Maybe you should.”
Fuck…Violet, almost naked, in a collar and a lead. It’s not something I’ve considered, but I like the aspect of catching her, holding her as my pet, my toy, and using the collar and lead to control her.
I tangle a hand in her hair and pull her in, kissing her hard, tongue demanding entry she immediately gives. Hot and wild and mine.
“You will be sleeping with me. But I have expectations. Rules you need to follow.”
Her pupils widen. “Like what?”
“You sleep naked from now on.”
“But I do anyway. You always rip my clothes off.”
“Silly girl.” I slide my hands down to cup her ass and drag her up against my hard on.
She gasps.
“What if some psycho had broken in and assaulted you?”
Vi grins and kisses me. “Didn’t you know I’m into that sort of thing?”
I push her off me to the floor. “Strip.”
Vi stands and pulls off her shirt and top and then shucks her jeans and panties.
It’s fucking fire.
“Come closer.”
She does, standing there, knees against mine, and I motion for her to part her thighs.
My eyes drop to her pussy.
I fucking love the red puffiness of arousal and the dampness on her inner thighs, her lips.
Running my fingers through her folds, I spread that heated wetness
Her moan soft is music in the air.
I want to push into her, finger her to orgasm just because I can, but she likes the slow burn, the build and the denial, and so I hold my hand on the side, thumb in the air, toward her clit, and without raising my eyes, I lower my hand just enough to bring an edge of awkwardness to it.
To make her work, to spread more, to feel the erotic burn of resentment.
“Rock yourself on my hand. I want to see if you can come.”
“But—”
“Did I say you could speak?” I raise my eyes a moment, and she shakes her head. “Good girl.”
She lowers down, some of her juices dripping onto the edge of my hand as I make her rock. Back and forth, a slow slide that bows into a sawing motion as she tries to get my thumb.
I hold it at perfect clit-stroking height. And all I do is watch, letting her rock on me, saw on me, slide. And every time she comes close to her prize, I move back, just out of reach.
Her breath is jagged. Hands by her legs tight. Her thighs start to shake. But she’s wetter with each slide, deep now, trying everything she can to get me.
And it’s not just hard on her. I’m so fucking aroused.
She smells like flowers, arousal. A garden tryst at night. She’s hot and wet on my hand. Impossibly soft.
When her moan turns to a wordless plea, I give in. A little.
I move, pushing my thumb light against her clit.
She tries to rub off on me, she humps my hand, my thumb, and I move, subtle. Deliberate. Keeping my thumb from hitting that one spot for more than a few seconds.
Then I hold it, and she starts rising and falling, her moan hot in the air, her clit hard, and her movements are frenzied, needful, and she’s close.
Her hand flutters in the air like she wants to grab at me but stops herself, and she’s getting closer, closer—
“On. Your. Knees.” I take my hand away. Unzip and push my jeans and underwear down, because I want this messy.
“Blow me. No hands, Vi.”
“Ye—”
“No talking.”
She sinks down, and I don’t miss the flash of resentment that’s mixed with her gluttonous need.
I circle my cock with my hand and when her mouth closes over me, I almost cum.
She’s hot and wet and sucking as she goes.
I put my hand on her head and push her down.
Because I don’t want her skill or a sweet and slow working over. I want fast. I want to use her, to give her what she wants. To get what I need. And right now, I need to be down her fucking throat, cumming.
She coughs, splutters. She gags, and it’s all fucking phenomenal.
I take hold of her head in both hands and use her. Moving her up and down, slamming her on my cock, and when I’m all the way down her throat, I keep her there, short, sharp moves that don’t let her go anywhere.
Barely let her breathe.
And it starts in my toes.
Electric pulses all the way up to my balls, all the way along my cock, and then I cum, a wild burst of pleasure that rocks every part of me, and I spurt down her throat, before pulling her off and tossing her to the sofa where I come up, and kiss her hard.
She’s trying to breathe. She’s lost and floating in subspace as her kisses are drugged, slow, perfection.
I take advantage and get on the floor, throwing her thighs over my shoulders.
Her pussy is perfection. “Such a gorgeous cunt.”
And I dive in. I lick everywhere, all that sweet nectar. And I bury my tongue in her. I imagine I spent time exploring, but the power is pulsating in me, and there’s more than enough time for sweet moments.
Nothing about this is sweet.
This is a claiming.
She’s mine.
She needs to know it in all possible ways.
And I’m going to want to fuck her again. Hard. I’m already getting back to full erection.
I slide two fingers into her as I suck and lick her clit, curling my fingers with each thrust to stroke her G-spot.
Her moans fill the air. Her shudders rock me. Her body starts to shimmer and clench.
Sucking hard, I force her orgasm to hit, and she cries out.
I’m a selfish bastard, and I need more.
Pulling my hand out and leaving her mid orgasm, I turn her, pulling her down to the floor, knees first, and push her face into the cushions.
With her hair around my hand, I slam into her from behind, biting her shoulder as I use her hard.
The pain in my chest from the hard jolts fading to nothing as she throbs around me.
Using my free hand, I find her clit and stroke her into screaming territory again.
Her coming hard on my cock is the kind of torture a man mostly only dreams of.
She’s already fucking tight, the slickness of her arousal allowing me to hit deep and hard.
The clenches are exquisite, they taunt and pull at me, pulling me down into the wild world she’s in.
Oh, fuck, I cum again, spurting into her, the pleasure rocking me as she squeezes hard.
The orgasm is everywhere. Invading every cell. And when I slow, finally coming back to reality, she’s slumped.
“I fucking love you, Vi.”
“I love you, too,” she slurs.
And I pull out to turn her and pull up my pants. Then I gather her in my arms and take her to my room to have her all over again.
Later, when Violet is asleep, naked, in my bed, I grab my laptop and head to the kitchen. And I reach out to one of the more shadowy Syndicate operatives, L.
L has tons of political connections, and I ask him about rumors to do with Walsh, but there aren’t any.
I sigh and plunge in. I’ve helped L out enough that he doesn’t ask one question when I ask him to help secure an internship with congressman Walsh for Vi.
“Consider it done.”
I send her academic records and experience, including the letters of recommendation to L.
“Impressive. I’ll be able to do this, no problems. But she has to blend in, not bring attention to herself. The congressman likes discreet, after the thing with his daughter going missing…”
“Sure. She’s done this before.”
“She worked for Stengal. That…”
“Wasn’t her fault.”
“No attention grabbing,” L says.
I’m amused.
How the fuck does someone as striking and singular as Violet blend in? She stands out in every possible way.
Honestly, I can’t believe she’s mine.
“That won’t be a problem,” I assure L. “No problem at all.”