“Fuck, I love your dick,” I gasp.
He’s still twitching in my hands, and my fingers are slick with him.
And I want more.
I crawl under the blankets, taking him deep in my throat, swallowing until I reach the base of his stiff dick. It’s heaven. Heaven that fills my throat and forces me to rise, gasping for air, only to swallow him again with heart-pounding abandon.
“God damn, Violet. God fucking damn,” he moans.
And then he shifts.
Ever so slightly. His hands take hold of my hips and move me into position, pulling me close enough that his eager tongue can reach my dripping wet pussy.
One lick is enough to make me start as the intensity of pleasure rocks my body.
“Careful,” I whisper. “I’m still sensitive.”
“You taste too fucking good,” is his reply, followed by another caress of his tongue that makes me pop his cock out of my mouth and moan with desire. He is out to ruin me, and it’s ruin that I cannot wait to experience.
A minute is all it takes for me to break again, with my pussy grinding against his face, my hips writhing and bucking in primal lust.
I’m a wreck when he’s done. A twitchy, shaky wreck who can think about nothing more than climbing on top of his dick. If only I could work my limbs.
“Fuck me, Crash. I want you inside of me. Now.”
He throws me onto my back, effortlessly, and I only have time to let out a low moan as he thrusts deep inside me.
“You feel so goddamn good, Violet.”
I writhe beneath him. My tits bouncing and my hips rocking with each thrust. I can’t get enough of him, every time he enters me, I want him deeper, and every second he withdraws, I spend the split-second aching for him to fill me again.
It’s sex unlike any I’ve ever had, feeling so close to a man who, in so many ways, excites every one of my emotions and makes my body feel good beyond belief.
I lock my legs behind him. Pull him even closer, driven by the need to take him as deep as I can.
His eyes widen.
Whatever he intends to say dies on his lips and, with one last thrust, he climaxes, releasing deep inside me.
I hold him there, against me.
And realize that I’ve never been this close with any man in my entire life. While his words, about temptation, about right and wrong, about the danger represent for each other, echo in my thoughts. I don’t sleep easy.
Chapter Sixteen
Crash
“I see smoke.”
I open my eyes and find she’s dressed already. Decked out in her freshly dried clothes and standing at the door, munching on a granola bar. There are bags under her eyes, her hair is a mess, and her cheeks are an impossibly bright shade of pink, but she’s never looked more beautiful; because she’s smiling, and there’s a hope and excitement in her voice that’s been sorely missing these last few days.
“Smoke?”
“From one cabin on the other side of the valley. It has to be her. Come on, get dressed, we need to go now.”
I dress fast, but not fast enough for her. She’s nearly a hundred meters away by the time I finish zipping up my coat and charge out into the forest after her, with a half-eaten granola bar in my mouth and my panting breath turning to froze fog in the air. She nearly runs through the heavy snow, sending icy clouds in her wake as she races forward, heading toward the rising column of smoke in the distance. And not once does her pace slacken. For the half an hour we take to cross the valley through the shin-high snow, she is unrelenting. Victory is in sight, and Violet Cassidy will not be deterred.
In a small clearing, less than a football field’s length away from the cabin, she stops. Holds up one hand as a warning, like she’s some military scout, and then proceeds at a slow creep the rest of the distance.
I use the change in pace to reach into my cut and pull my gun from its holster. It’s always best to be prepared.
The cabin sits in another clearing, which we reach after sneaking through a copse of pines thicker than Rusty’s beard. Violet stops and drops on her haunches, sneaking forward and around to get a better view at the cabin. This building is in much better condition than the one we spent the night in; a squat building constructed from rough timber, with a strong roof, a thick chimney that looks like it’s connected to a heavy duty fireplace — which must mean the inside is comfortably warm, I think enviously, and I’ll bet they have a better breakfast than a fucking granola bar — and we circle it, keeping to the cover of the forest, as we scout it out.
“Oh no,” Violet whispers, stopping and pointing to a window. Through the frosted glass, I see Kendra. She’s tied to a chair, gagged, and blood covers her forehead and mats her hair.
I suck in a sharp breath. These assholes are working her over. Switchblade has a sick way of expressing his obsession. It will feel so good to put this menace down.
I reach over and put my hand on her shoulder and give it a gentle squeeze. “We will get her out.”
Another figure enters our field of view. Switchblade, and he looms over Kendra, shouting something in her face and punctuating his tirade by ramming his fist into her gut.
Violet surges in my grip, and I turn
