10. Vincent #2
Afterward, we lie tangled together on the couch. I pull a throw blanket over us, and Violet curls against my chest.
"I could fall asleep right here," she murmurs.
"Go ahead. I've got you."
Hours later, around 2 AM, I wake.
We're still on the couch, Violet deeply asleep against me. I carefully extract myself, lift her into my arms, and carry her to bed.
My bed. Not hers. She's been sleeping in my room for the past two weeks.
I lay her down gently. She doesn't wake, just sighs and curls into the pillow.
I lie beside her, watching her sleep in the darkness.
The familiar need rises. Wanting to touch her, claim her, use the body she's given me permission to take.
I start slowly. My hand on her hip, sliding up to her breast. She's still naked from earlier, making access easy.
I play with her nipple, watch it harden under my touch. Violet sighs in her sleep—a soft, unconscious sound that makes my cock harden.
My hand trails down her stomach, between her legs. She's still slightly sticky from my cum earlier.
I explore her pussy gently: outer lips, finding her clit, circling slowly. Her body responds even in sleep—growing wet, inner muscles fluttering.
I slide a finger inside her, then two. Work her slowly, building her arousal. Small sounds escape her: soft moans, quiet breaths that make my need sharpen.
When she's ready, I position myself between her legs. Guide my cock to her entrance, push inside slowly.
She accepts me easily, her body familiar with mine now.
I start moving. Careful thrusts, watching her sleeping face. The trust implicit in this act never fails to overwhelm me—that she lets me have her like this, unconscious and vulnerable.
About two minutes in, Violet's breathing changes. Her eyes flutter open, drowsy and confused.
"Vincent?" she murmurs sleepily.
I still inside her. "Go back to sleep."
But she's awake now, a sleepy smile crossing her face. "Caught you."
I laugh quietly. "You did."
"Don't stop," Violet says, her hips shifting to take me deeper.
"You're supposed to be asleep."
"I was. Then I woke up to you inside me." Her smile is playful. "Best alarm clock ever."
The moment is light, easy, intimate in a way our early encounters never were. This isn't just forbidden fucking anymore—this is us, comfortable and real.
I resume moving, and Violet participates now: meeting my thrusts, her hands on my back, her legs wrapping around my waist.
"I love this," Violet admits softly. "Waking up to you taking me. Knowing you wanted me enough to not wait."
My possessive satisfaction surges. "Always want you. Can't help myself."
We fuck slowly, unhurried, enjoying each other. When we both come, it's gentle and rolling—satisfying without the desperate intensity of earlier.
Afterward, Violet is already drifting back to sleep. I pull out carefully, pull her against my chest.
"Love you," she murmurs, barely conscious.
"Love you too."
She's asleep again within seconds. I hold her, staring at the ceiling, content.
The next morning is Sunday. Neither of us has obligations.
Violet is in one of my shirts at the breakfast table, bare legs showing, hair messy. I'm in just sleep pants, relaxed in a way I never was before her.
Over coffee, Violet brings up something that's clearly been on her mind.
"What happens after I graduate?"
I look up from my tablet. "What do you mean?"
"I mean...we haven't really talked about the future. Beyond the next few months."
I set down the tablet, giving her my full attention. "What do you want to happen?"
Violet considers this, her fingers wrapped around her coffee mug. "I've been looking at grad school programs. Museum studies, curatorial work. There are good programs in New York, Boston, even locally."
"Wherever you want to go, we'll make it work," I say immediately.
"Even if it means long distance?"
My expression darkens at the thought. "I'd rather not be apart from you. But if that's what your program requires, we'll figure it out."
I pause, then add carefully, "Or I could relocate. My firm has flexibility, and I can work remotely for stretches."
Violet looks surprised. "You'd move for me?"
"I chose you over Monaco," I remind her. "Moving cities is nothing in comparison."
Violet is quiet for a moment. Then she says softly, "I don't want to be apart from you either."
I reach across the table, take her hand. "Then we won't be. Whatever you choose, wherever you go, I'm coming with you."
Her eyes are bright with emotion. "What about...I mean, long term. Are we just...?"
She trails off, unsure how to articulate the question.
I understand what she's asking. Where is this relationship going?
I've been thinking about it myself. The answer shocks me, but I don't hesitate.
"Eventually," I say carefully, "when you're ready, when the time is right...I want to marry you."
Violet's eyes widen. "What?"
The words are out. I can't take them back. Don't want to.
"I want to marry you," I repeat. "Not now—you're still in school, and we have time. But eventually. I want you to be my wife, not just my...whatever people think you are now."
Violet is processing, overwhelmed. "But...the stepfather thing. People will?—"
"Fuck what people think," I interrupt. "Legally, we're not related anymore. Your mother and I divorced years ago. There's nothing stopping us except social judgment, and I don't care about that."
Violet is quiet, emotions evident on her face.
"I'm not asking you now," I clarify. "I'm just...telling you where I see this going. If you want the same thing."
Violet stands, comes around the table, sits in my lap. Wraps her arms around my neck.
"I want the same thing," she whispers. "I want forever with you."
I hold her close, feeling something settle in my chest. This relationship that started as forbidden, taboo, wrong—has become the most right thing in my life.
And if we have to face judgment, social censure, disapproval? So be it.
She's worth it.
We spend the rest of Sunday together. Simple domesticity: watching movies on the couch, cooking dinner together, existing in each other's space without needing to fill the silence.
That night, we make love in my bed. Slow, intimate, full of unspoken promises about the future we just discussed.
Afterward, Violet falls asleep in my arms.
I lie awake for a while, thinking. Marriage. A life together. Building something real and lasting.
It won't be easy. The age gap, the former stepfather relationship, the social judgment—none of that will disappear.
But I don't care.
She's mine. I'm hers. Nothing else matters.
My last thought before sleep: I'm going to marry her. Give her my name, make her mine in every possible way.
And fuck anyone who has a problem with it.