The arousal wins over the fear, though. I want this. Need this from him so badly my entire body shakes. He hasn’t even touched me yet and I’m afraid I’ll come if he so much as grazes my skin with his fingers.
I want to let go and let him take over my body, my pleasure, completely. Take me to where I can let all the pretense fall away and become who I really am, who I am only with this man who’s shown me how to fly.
Tonight my life did change in ways I never thought possible. I’d dismissed any thoughts of another chance with Ryder. I believed it truly over. I was fully prepared to be alone, thinking I would be fine with that. Knowing deep down inside that was the farthest thing from the truth.
And then he saved me. He said the exact words I needed to hear, showed me just how much he wanted me—how much he loved me—and I left with him. He fought for me.
I needed that. Needed him. I have what I want. Who I love. There’s no looking back now.
We’re in this together.
I’m greedily watching him as he strips out of his clothes until he’s completely naked, his thick cock rock hard and curving up toward his washboard belly. My mouth waters and I wish I could lick his skin. I love his beautiful body, the way he looks at me with those heated blue eyes, his hair a disaster created by my hands, the tattoos that decorate his upper body … everything about him, I love. Want. Need.
“Beautiful,” he whispers as he drops to his knees reverently and runs his hands from my knees up, palms coasting along my inner thighs, making me shudder. Making me weak. His thumbs barely brush against my hot, wet center and I bite my lip, releasing a quiet moan. “All pretty and pink and glistening.”
I lean back against the chair, holding my breath when his face comes closer to the place I want him most. He’d turned on the lamps earlier, the living room glowing brightly enough that we can see every single detail of each other’s bodies and normally, I would be mortified. Embarrassed.
But I’m not. I want him to see me. I want him to know what he does to me. How much I want him. I can’t control my body’s reaction to him and I don’t want to.
“You want my mouth on your pussy?” he asks roughly, his thumb tweaking my clit almost painfully.
I nod, unable to find my voice.
“Say it.” He leans in close, his mouth almost grazing my folds. I can feel his hot breath against my vibrating skin, and my lids flutter as I fight to keep my eyes open. I don’t want to miss a thing. “I need to hear you say it, Violet.”
“Touch me,” I whisper, purposely not saying what he wants. I’m drawing this out and when I see the irritation flare in his gaze, I know he realizes it.
“Not good enough.” He backs away, taking with him his heat and scent and touch, and I whimper, needing him close. Needing his mouth on me. “Say exactly what you want from me. I won’t give it to you until I hear the words.”
A trickle of moisture slides across sensitive skin and I clench my inner muscles to stave off the need that’s ratcheting up inside of me. But it’s no use. I want him so badly. I need to feel his hands and mouth and tongue on me. In me.
Now.
“Touch my pussy,” I whisper, pleasure bolting through me when I see approval fill his gaze. “Lick it. Suck my clit. Make me come, Ryder. Please. I need you.”
“Perfect.” He’s back where I want him, where I need him, his hands gripping my thighs and holding them open, his fingers digging into my skin roughly. I hope he bruises me. Marks me. Making it known that I’m his.
His mouth nuzzles my pussy, his tongue darting out for a lick. All the while he never looks away, his gaze remaining locked on mine, and I stare at him, my chest tight, my body tense, as he tongues my pussy with expert precision. Playing with my clit, searching my folds, circling my entry. He slips a finger slowly inside me and I groan, wanting more, wanting his cock but not wanting this moment to end, either.
“Like that, baby?” he whispers. “You taste so fucking good. I could do this for hours.”
I don’t know if I could handle him doing this for hours. I’d probably faint. Or die from too many orgasms.
“Don’t stop,” I whisper, my eyes sliding closed, concentrating on the way his mouth moves over my skin, his lapping tongue, his finger sliding inside of my welcoming body. And then he’s gone, his mouth and finger leaving me, frustrating me. I open my eyes, glaring at him to find him glaring at me in return.
“Watch me,” he demands. “Keep your eyes on me.”
I do as he asks, already fighting against the orgasm that wants to sweep through me. It’s like a slow summer storm forming in the pit of my belly, warm and dark and almost scary. I’m shivering, a moan escapes me when he pulls my clit between his lips and sucks hard. My lids flutter and it’s such a struggle. I want to close my eyes and fall under the spell his mouth is working over my body, but I don’t for fear he’ll stop what he’s started.
And the very last thing I want is for him to stop.
“Close?” he whispers against my flesh. He circles my clit slowly, the feeling so exquisite a long, shuddery moan escapes me, and he smiles. Wicked, terrible man. He knows what he’s doing is exquisite torture. “Ask for it, Violet.”
“Make me come.” The words fall out of me in a rush, my belly quivering, my legs trembling from the awkward position I’m in. I feel like I could shatter at any given moment. I want to shatter.
Fall completely apart so only Ryder can put me back together again.
The orgasm explodes within me in mere seconds, making me cry out, my hips bucking of their own accord against his face as wave after wave of sensation washes over me, draining me completely.
“Beautiful,” he whispers as he moves up my body to kiss me, his lips covered with my juices. “Taste yourself. See why you drive me wild.”
I lick and suck his tongue, do the same to his lips, and then he’s pushing away from me, reaching out to pull me into a new position. He eases my legs off the arms of the chair until I’m sitting, docile and perfect, perched on the edge. My thighs shake, I feel dizzy, completely overcome, and he reaches beneath my chin to tilt my face up, forcing me to look at him.
“I don’t know how long I can hold out until I have to fuck you,” he murmurs, stroking my chin with his thumb.
Staring at him, I say nothing. I know we should probably talk more. We’re too caught up in the sexual haze that overcomes us every time we’re together, but things need to be said. Exposed.
Confessed.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful, Violet. I’m sorry,” he whispers, his fingers gentle as they brush through my hair.
I move so I can sling my arms around his shoulders. “Sorry for what?” I ask as I run my fingers through his soft hair, stroke the back of his neck. I never want to stop touching him. Never want to let him go. He’s become … everything to me.
Everything.
“For hurting you. Saying what I said pushed you away and I did it to protect you, which is fucking stupid.” His hands run down my back, making me shiver.
“Protect me from what?” I ask.
“Me.” He tilts his head back, his unwavering gaze meeting mine. “I can’t help but wonder what you’re doing, wanting to be with a man like me.”
I smile as I trace the line of his jaw. “You make me feel. You challenge me and you care about me more than any other man I know. You’ve shown me so many things in such little time and I can’t wait to see where you’ll lead me next. I’m in love with you, Ryder.”
“I love you too, Violet. I know … I know it’s all happened so fast, but …” He pauses, his expression going serious, his entire body still. “Your father wants me to go to London.”
Pressing my mouth to his, I whisper against his lips, “He wants me to go to London, too.”
“Really?” He sounds surprised, but not irritated like Zachary had when I mentioned it to him. I love that about Ryder. To him, I’m an equal. “Doing what?”
“Whatever I want. It would be an executive-at-large
position.” I dip my head, kiss his neck, lick at his salty skin. I can’t get enough of him. “What about you?”
“International brand marketing.” He sounds so proud and I squeeze him close, simply enjoying the feeling of his hot, damp skin on mine. “Sounds pretty fucking impressive, doesn’t it?”
“It sounds amazing,” I whisper against his neck.
“He offered me the job. Told me more than once that you praised my abilities.”
I lift my head to smile at him. “I did.”
“As long as they were my professional abilities.” He chuckles and my heart soars. The mood between us has changed. What I thought would be another filthy endeavor of long, hard fucking has turned … sweet. Tender.
Loving.
“Always.” I shift and press my chest to his, enjoying the closeness, the sound of his heart, the sensation of his chest rising and falling with his every breath. I close my eyes and savor just sitting with him. Absorbing him.
“Come with me,” he whispers, his hands going to my hips, tickling my skin. “Let’s go to London together.”
“Do you mean it?” I lift my head, breathless at the words he’s saying. He wants me to go with him. “We haven’t known each other very long …”
His fingers press into my flesh so hard I gasp. I lift my head to see his eyes are blazing with heat and aimed right at me. “When you know, you know. I was stupid, trying to deny this, but I can’t any longer. You’re mine, remember?”
I stare at him, overwhelmed by what this means. “Yes,” I whisper. “I remember.”
“Come with me, Violet,” he demands. “I don’t ever want to be apart from you again.”
I nod, too overcome to speak. More tears come, filling my eyes, spilling down my cheeks, but they’re not sad tears. I’m happy. Happy that he would want to make such a commitment to me, thrilled that we’re together. That he wants me just as bad as I want him.
He brushes the tears away, catching them with his thumb, his lips. “Don’t cry,” he whispers. “You’re killing me, baby. All I ever want to do is make you happy.”
“I’ll go with you,” I finally say, gasping when he grabs me tight and falls against the back of the chair, taking me with him. He clutches me close, kissing me as he lifts his hips, thrusting his cock deep inside me again and again. I’m his captive; I can’t move as our bodies slap together, damp with sweat, skin on skin, his cock hitting just right deep inside my body until I’m crying out and he’s shouting my name, the two of us coming together, like some sort of miracle.
But that’s what we are, Ryder and I. What we share is like a miracle. Our strange little relationship that should never have worked, that makes no sense …
It makes absolute, perfect sense after all.
At least to us.
And that’s all that matters.
Epilogue
Violet
Six months later
The party is in full swing. Everyone who is anyone in London high society is here tonight, ready for the launch of the Violet Fowler Collection for Fleur cosmetics.
And here I hide away in the bathroom, chewing on my nails nervously, not wanting to face them.
What if they hate it? We postponed the launch once already, due to our move to London. Pilar took great delight in that, complaining to Father that I wasn’t prepared, but he shut her down, defending me like a good father should.
That they’re still … lovers baffles me, but I can’t tell him what to do. Just like he can’t tell me what to do. We’ve come to a peaceful understanding that we don’t talk about Pilar. Ever.
Rose, though? She’s furious. She even quit Fleur for a while, going on a sabbatical. Sounds better than her leaving in a huff because she’s upset about her father’s romantic choices, which is the real reason she’s gone.
I miss her. I miss Lily, too. And Father. But I’m not alone here in London. I have my biggest support, my man. My lover. My Ryder.
Rising from the overstuffed couch in the powder room, I go to the mirror and study my reflection. I’m wearing makeup from my collection. From the special gold eye shadow created for the upcoming holidays to the deep red lipstick, everything on my face is by me. Early reviews have already come in and they’re full of praise, which reassures me, but still.
This party feels like everything. As if the success of the collection depends on their reception, which is ridiculous, but I can’t help myself.
I’ve never been so nervous over a work project in my life.
Someone knocks on the door I purposely locked and I turn to look at it, watching as whoever it is turns the handle but can’t get in.
“Sorry, occupied!” I yell, wishing whoever it is would just go away and leave me alone. I need five more minutes to gain my composure before I go out there and face the slaughter.
“Violet,” Ryder’s voice hisses from the other side. “Damn it, open the door.”
Rising from the couch, I rush to the door and undo the lock, letting him in. He strides inside, turning to face me as I relock the door, and I can see the irritation written all over his handsome face, the stiffness in his posture that indicates he’s frustrated.
“What the hell are you doing hiding out in here?”
I shrug, unable to answer. I don’t have a good enough explanation. “I’m scared.”
“Of what?” he asks incredulously. “Of impressing them so much you won’t be able to fill all the orders that will pour in come Monday?”
I roll my eyes, suppressing the urge to laugh. He’s my biggest champion and I adore him for it. “They might hate it, you know. Some of the biggest names in fashion and beauty are out there just waiting to skewer me and my collection.”
“Who fucking cares? For every one who hates it, there will be fifty who love it.” He holds out his hand and waves his fingers. “Come here.”
I go to him without protest, letting him wrap me up in his arms. I rest my head against his chest, breathe in his delicious scent, as I close my eyes and absorb the comfort he offers me.
“What the hell are you wearing?” He pushes me away from him, his hands gripping my shoulders as he rakes his gaze over my body. My dress is blood-red lace, a sleeveless column of fabric that skims my body to my ankles. The bodice is open and plunges deep, all the way to my navel, exposing plenty of skin in what I hope isn’t in an obscene way.
Judging how Ryder is looking at me, it might be borderline obscene after all.
“You don’t like it?”
“I fucking love it, but my God, Violet. You’re completely exposed.” He sounds … horrified. Like he’s my father or something, which I find so infinitely amusing I start to laugh.
This only makes him scowl.
“You’re not wearing a bra, are you?”
I glance down at my exposed chest. The lace perfectly covers up my breasts, thanks to body tape. “How can I? You’d see it.”
“Right,” he says tightly, his nostrils flaring.
I decide to goad him. Something I’ve become quite skilled at. “Let me tell you a little secret—I’m not wearing any panties, either.”
His shoulders fall the slightest bit. “Fucking great.” He looks so handsome tonight in his black suit and the tie I bought him to replace the one I ruined so long ago. I told him to wear it, and now we match perfectly.
“Easy access for later?” I step into him and kiss him, then wipe away the smudge my lipstick left on his mouth. “I marked you.”
“Good.” He slings his arm around my waist and holds me close. “I love it when you mark me.”
“I never do.”
“That’s why I love it. It’s such a rare occasion. I, on the other hand, mark you all the time.” He runs light, sucking kisses along the length of my neck and I bat him away, but it’s no use. Not that I want him to stop.
“Save that for later,” I murmur, tilting my head to give him better access. “We should get out there.”
He lifts his head. “Are you ready?”
/> I nod, ignoring the nervous trembling that threatens to overtake me. I can do this. I’ve made plenty of public appearances before. I’ll be fine. Really.
“Then let’s go, baby.” He releases his hold on me but takes my hand, entwining our fingers and bringing our linked hands up to his mouth. He presses a kiss to my knuckles, his gaze hot, his voice deep, as he whispers, “I love you.”
My heart aches at his words; they mean so much to me. Words he’s never uttered to anyone else, ever.
“I love you too,” I whisper, leaning in to give him a kiss. “Let’s do this.”
“I’m right beside you,” he says as he leads me to the bathroom door and unlocks it, the roar of the crowd in the ballroom almost deafening even from all the way over here.
“I know,” I murmur with a nod, trying my best to exude confidence. I’ve got this.
“I’ll never leave your side tonight.” He’s trying to reassure me but I can’t answer, too wrapped up in my own fear to focus on how hard he’s working to help me. To ease my worry.
“Thank you.” I offer him a tremulous smile.
“Your dad is here. And so is Lily.”
I gape at him, happiness filling me. “Are you serious?”
“They wouldn’t miss your big debut.”
“What about Rose?”
He slowly shakes his head and I fight off the twinge of disappointment that threatens. I need to focus on the positives tonight.
And all those positives came true because of this man. His guidance, encouragement, and faith in me fuels me like nothing else.
“Thank you.” I wrap my arms around him again and hold him close, right before we enter the noisy ballroom. “For everything.”
“Anything for you,” he tells me, his lips against my hair, his hand on my backside because hello, it’s Ryder. It’s as if he can’t keep his hands off my ass.
“Anything?” I ask, pulling away slightly so I can meet his gaze.
He nods solemnly, every emotion and feeling he has for me shining in his gaze. “Everything.”
The moment we walk through the door, all worry, all nervousness lifts away, and I smile, glancing about the room at all the smiling faces. Seeing a few friends, fellow employees, some even from Fleur in New York. My father is standing close by, Lily by his side, the two of them wearing such huge grins I can’t help but smile in return.