Page 38 of Velvet Thorns
God, I could kiss her right now.
This loser doesn’t deserve to see her naked.
“Joshua, I’m sorry… I just have to—can you give me a minute?” she says, voice sweet but distant, already halfway to the bathroom.
I sit up, watching her go. I switch the camera, giving her enough privacy not to be a complete monster—some things even I won’t watch. But when I see her pull out her phone and fire off a text, I already know what’s coming, and I can’t help but smile at the way my girl’s about to get rid of this fuckwit while he’s still out there, clueless as hell, probably fluffing his dick and thinking he’s about to get lucky.
Less than two minutes later, Shannen’s back in the bedroom, and that prick Joshua has the audacity to kiss her. And all I can think about is ripping out that tongue, the one that’s got no damn right being on my girl, and wrapping it up like a chew toy for his dogs.
He’s got two dogs. I found that out when he wouldn’t shut the hell up, showing Shannen picture after picture like she gave a damn. Fun fact? She’s a cat person. But this asshole wouldn’t know that, would he? Too busy wagging his own tail and panting after her like a mutt in heat.
Her phone starts ringing, and she quickly grabs it, answering before the second ring.
I already know it’s Lianna.
The way she bullshits her way through the next thirty seconds has me so proud… and relieved. Because even if I put myself through this hell willingly, even if I deserve every second of it, it doesn’t make it any easier to watch.
And then comes the real headache: figuring out what to do with the guy. It turns into this exhausting spiral of emotion, time, and damage-control bullshit. A mess I didn’t ask for but one I’ll clean up all the same.
Because he’s not supposed to be touching her.
No one is.
“Of course you can come over,” she says, looking at the jerk-off like she’s actually sorry. “See you soon.” The phone hits thenightstand, and she’s moving, scooping his shirt from the floor and tossing it his way.“I’m sorry. My best friend needs me.”
“Oh. I mean… Can I stay too? I’m sure she’ll sleep at some point,” he offers, leaning in. She dodges the kiss. Dodges it. God, I love her, even when she’s driving me straight into an early grave.
“I can’t. Sorry.”
“Okay, well… Can I call you?”
“Sure, we’ll arrange something.”
Yeah. They’re not arranging shit.
Twenty minutes later, she’s alone in her apartment, door locked, windows shut, tucked away like the good girl she is. But locks don’t keep me out. They never have, and as soon as she’s asleep, I’ll be there.
I watch her sink back into the mattress, bra and panties still hugging every inch of that flawless body. I lean forward, getting as close to the screen as I can, twisting my rings just to distract myself from the way my cock aches at the sight of her. She drags her hands through that wild red hair, her body stretching out, and I see it—she’s turned on, more than she’s been all night. She’s built herself a hell of a life and has everything she could ever want. She's a powerhouse in her own right. But all I want is to strip every ounce of that power away, tear it off with my teeth, and make her beg for it.
I want to dominate her so thoroughly that she forgets what control ever felt like. I want to take her in my hand, bend her to my will, and give her everything I know she fucking craves—a man strong enough to own her body and her mind. One who won’t ask permission. One who’ll claim her, break her down to nothing, and build her back into something that breathes me, craves me, and lives only to want me.
I’ve never even had a girl touch me. Never been close to a pussy. But fuck, I’d give up everything just to spend eternitylearning her body, choking her with one hand and gripping her soul with the other, while she moans my name into the dark.
I watch her reach behind her back, fingers unclipping her bra, peeling it off, and letting it fall to the floor. Even though I’ve seen her do this a hundred times—hell, maybe more—it still hits me like the first time. Maybe I should look away and give her that moment, but fuck that. One day, it’ll be my hands on her, my mouth worshipping every inch, and she’ll know what it means to be truly, relentlessly wanted.
“Come on, baby. Show me how you like it.” I watch, cock rock-hard in my pants, as her fingers slip inside her underwear.
My hand is already in my sweats, yanking them down so I can wrap my fist around my dick, every muscle tight with anticipation. I always wait for her to start—something about knowing we’re getting off together, watching her come apart while I lose it right with her. It’s romantic in the dirtiest, most fucked-up way, and I love it.
But tonight, there’s something different. She’s more into it—hungrier, breathless, greedier—her need pouring off her in waves. When she finally pulls her panties down, that pink lace sliding over her ankles, and spreads those gorgeous thighs, I can’t look away. All I see is her sweet, wet little cunt glistening and perfect. I’d give anything to taste her right now. I’d drop to my knees, tongue first, and worship her until she’s trembling so hard she forgets the world exists.
Fuck, that’s a beautiful pussy.
I don’t have anything to compare it to, and I don’t care. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“Touch it, pretty girl. Rub that clit the way I know you love.”
I’ll do it for her one day. I’ll wring every last orgasm out of her, no matter the time or place.
