Owning Violet Page 39

I still watch, lost to the sensation, to the sight of this gorgeous man bringing me so much pleasure. He runs his free hand up my thigh, over my hip, my waist, to caress my breast and I arch into his touch. He opens his eyes, brilliant blue locked directly on me, and he lifts his mouth from my body, his lips damp and swollen.

“You like to watch.”

I don’t bother denying it. “I like watching you.”

“You are a complete surprise.” He dips his head, runs his tongue along the length of me, making me cry out. He pinches my nipple, as if that might shut me up, but the sharp taste of pain with my pleasure only makes me moan louder. “People might hear you, Violet,” he chastises.

“I don’t care,” I huff out, my body starting to quake. I’m almost there. So close and I close my eyes, unable to fight my body any longer. I want it. I need to come. I feel like I’m going to explode.

He rests his hand directly over my mouth, muffling my whimpers, and I open my eyes to find him still looking at me. “I like seeing you like this. All naked and wet and shivering, completely at my mercy.”

Oh God. He’s trying to devastate me with words. And when his lips latch onto my clit and he sucks, his tongue teasing, that’s all it takes for me to fall completely apart. I moan against his hand, push my hips up as the intense orgasm rushes over me, sweeping through my body until I’m left a shaky, exhausted mess.

Ryder kisses one hip bone, then the other. Sweet, simple little kisses that melt me further. He rears up to his feet and reaches for my bound hands, undoing the tie, then rubs my wrist. The muscles in my arms shake from being in the same position for so long and I let them fall to my sides, then stretch them out in front of me.

I don’t know what to say, how to act. I’ve never let a man bring me to orgasm on his couch in his office before, let alone while being tied up. I’ve never done anything like this at work. Or at home, or anywhere really.

“Twenty minutes.” He backs away from the couch and checks his watch on his wrist, then smiles down at me. He looks very pleased with himself. “Which means we have another twenty minutes to kill. Unless you’ve … had enough?”

Chapter Twelve

Ryder

I can still taste her on my tongue, sticky sweet on my lips and chin. Never in a million years did I think I could get Violet Fowler on my couch in my office, naked with her wrists bound, my face between her legs tonguing that pretty pink pussy until she came all over my lips.

Yeah. Hottest fucking experience I’ve had in a long time, if ever.

She’s still naked, save for the sexy black shoes. Her skin is flushed. Her breathing is labored and her full breasts move with her every shaky exhale, her rosy nipples still standing at full attention.

Not really a surprise, because I figured she was hiding that smoking-hot body beneath the clothes, but damn. The woman is gorgeous. Absolute perfection. And the way she responded to me, the sounds she made …

“Come here,” she whispers, her voice gone husky with arousal.

I’m not that far from her so I take a few steps closer, startled when she reaches for my belt and tugs me forward. Her face is practically on my dick and it swells painfully, demanding satisfaction.

He’s always been a greedy bastard.

“Twenty minutes is a long time,” she says as she starts to tug my shirt out from my pants. “It’s your turn.”

I’m so shocked that she’s undressing me, it takes a full minute for me to realize what she’s saying. I try to step out of her reach but she has a firm hold on my belt, undoing the buckle with a few quick flicks of her fingers. My cock strains against my boxer briefs, ready for her attention, and within seconds she has the button undone and the zipper down, her slender fingers stroking, fondling my cock without bothering to take off my underwear.

“Violet …” I’m protesting but I don’t know why. I definitely don’t want her to stop. And it’s erotic as hell, watching her sit in front of me naked while I’m mostly clothed, Violet’s hand in my pants. If she doesn’t stop, I might embarrass myself and come in my briefs.

She tilts her head back, all that long, dark hair spilling over her shoulders, down her naked back. She’s beautiful like this, her hand wrapped around my cock, her lips parted, eyes smoldering. She’s enjoying this. A lot.

“Take me out,” I tell her. Her hand stills. “Take my cock out.”

Without a word she jerks my underwear down and pulls out my cock, wrapping her fingers around me tight. I press my lips together, fascinated with the sight of her fingers on my erection, stroking, teasing, her thumb swirling around the head. She leans forward the slightest bit and drops a single kiss on the very tip. I grunt at the touch of her pouty mouth, let out a hissing breath when she takes me between her lips and sucks.

And then it just gets worse. Or better. Not sure which way to look at it because with her lips on my cock, it’s pure agony. Exquisite torture. She grips the base and licks the entire length, swirling her tongue around the head before she draws me completely into her mouth. I stand there on shaky legs, fascinated with the magnificence of her lips and tongue, surprised at her expert blow-job skills.

Because holy hell, is Violet Fowler giving me one hell of a blow job.

I drop my hand on top of her head, thread my fingers into her hair and push it back. She glances up at me, her mouth full of cock, her big brown eyes wide and seeking approval. She pulls away as I settle my other hand on the side of her head so I’m gripping her, holding her. Wishing I could fuck her face and come down her throat, but I hold myself in check because she’s needing some sort of approval. I can sense it.