Page 59 of Wallflower
Watching her face to see how she reacts, I skate a deliberate palm over Violet’s breast, skim her ribcage, and then lightly brush my fingertips over her smooth, flat stomach. I tease the edge of the lacy thong she’s wearing underneath the sheets, hooking a finger beneath the elastic and running it around to her inner thigh, and her leg falls open in invitation. Violet’s expression reacts to my every movement, her breath grows shallow, her hips lift, and she talks in hot little whimpers, but her eyes remain shut.
I kiss her mouth and snake my hand down her body, circling a peaked nipple with my palm, squeezing her hip on my way to her inner thigh. She blindly and desperately shoves the linens away to remove the barrier between us, and I use my hips to spread her legs.
I slip my fingers between her thighs, and I’m right. She’s soaked.
I start slow with a single finger, dipping the tip in to start, then push her panties aside to swirl the moisture over her clit.
Violet’s whimpers turn needy, and I spread her lower lips, running my palm and fingers over her soaked warmth until she coats my hand. I want to lick it—I want to lickher—but if I’ve learned anything about this woman, it’s to go slow. So, I fill her with my fingers. I sink in the first, then the second, and the way her back arches, the way she opens her thighs so I can go deeper, is enough to make me come a little in my pants.
I fuck her like this for ages, dragging my fingers in and out, teasing her clit with my thumb, stroking the soft, sensitive spot deep in her core that sets her pussy fluttering. But she’s not getting there. I coax her all the way to the edge, but she keeps falling off the wrong side. She’s thinking too much. I can tellby the way she keeps her eyes closed, squeezing them tight like she’s trying to block out the world.
And I’m not having it.
I remove my fingers from her pussy, ignoring her pouty whimpers as I cradle her head with my free hand. Violet sucks fast breaths in through her nose and waits.
“Eyes on me,” I order.
Her lashes flutter and she meets my gaze, her brown eyes hot and hazy and almost golden in the last light of the sun. “Good girl. Now keep them open—and keep them on me.”
I hold Violet’s stare and refuse to let it go, and when I’m satisfied that she’s going to do as I say, I resume the tight, wet circles over her clit. She responds with quivering thighs and a thwarted whimper.
“You’re going to get there, baby,” I say, slipping my fingers deep into her. “I won’t stop until you do. I swear to fucking God you’re going to come for me.”
Her breath catches on a needy moan, and she lifts her knees with a pleading nod, begging silently for more.
I pump in and out of her in long, slow drags, and loop my arm under her shoulders to anchor her to my palm so she can ride my hand the way she needs to. Soon, the telltale flutter of her orgasm moves against my fingers, and I know it’s different this time by the way her eyes widen on mine and her hips buck against my hand.
“That’s it, Wallflower. You’re nearly there.” Our eyes remain on each other, her attention never wavering, and it’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever done. “Can you feel it? Can you feel me inside you? Do you know how badly I want you to come on my hand?”
I curl my fingers inside her, playing her like an instrument, and grit my teeth as the precum of my own orgasm beads at the tip of my cock. Our eyes are locked, hers bright with the promiseof her climax, and as her core clamps down around my fingers and her pussy soaks my hand, she finally tears her eyes away from mine, arching and crying out and cutting her nails into the deep muscles of my shoulders.
“There it is,” I murmur against her ear, breathing in the smell of her as she shudders through her climax. “You did so well. You feel good now, don’t you, Wallflower?”
She responds with a self-conscious little laugh, dragging her hands through her hair. “Oh, God. So good. Thank you.”
She lifts her head and plants the sweetest, softest kiss on my mouth, then runs her thumb across my bottom lip. “I can’t believe we just did that.”
I capture her thumb between my teeth so I can kiss it before she takes it away. “Why?”
“Because nights like this only happen in my dreams,” she murmurs, watching my lips trail up her wrist, her forearm, the crease of her elbow.
“That’s music to my ears.” I sweep the hair back from her face and kiss her as reverently as she did me. “I’m all about making dreams come true.”
twenty-five
Violet
DAY 21 AT SILVER LEAF... ONLY 65 TO GO
My experience in thebedroom begins and ends with the short, underwhelming sexual relationship I had with my college boyfriend. I’ve never climaxed from a man’s touch, and I’ve lived with my father my entire life, so I haven’t done a lot of self-exploration either. My orgasms, when I have them, are fast and no-fuss. Get in, get off, get out.
But this… This was the hardest, most bone-shattering climax I’ve ever had. So overwhelming that the orgasms I’ve given myself don’t even warrant the name.
I lay staring at the ceiling as my beautiful boss traces the shape of my collarbone with his tongue.
Oh,God. Chord Davenport made me come.
And I’ve got no clue what to do next. I can feel the hard ridge in his pants pressing against my thigh. His hairline is dark and curled with sweat, and his hands roam my body like they’re only just getting started, but now I’m on the other side of my climax, and I’m a little lost.
