Crushing Violet

by Bree Rivers

  He chuckled, as her face flooded with color. It took several minutes for her mouth to form words, and he kept his hand against her pussy enjoying the sweet wet heat he felt on his palm.

  “What are you thinking about?” That was his Vanity. Always so bold, filled with a deep bravado that was as intrinsic to her true self as her magnificent heart. She was compelled to ask the question even if it left her with a blush so hard she had to feel it all over her body.

  Should he tell her? Should he admit that he couldn’t wait to see if her ass would turn as red as her face was right now when he had her sprawled on his lap as he spanked her? That he couldn’t wait to see her with stripes on her back, or red bumps from the flogger he liked? That he couldn’t wait to see if he could make her scream so loud and for so long, the only thing keeping her sane was his cock spearing her sweet, smooth-as-silk pussy?

  Again, he reminded himself that this was about control, for both of their safety. So he picked the most essential thing he could. “I’m wondering if you’re going to taste as sweet as you sound.”

  Her loud swallow made him chuckle, and he squeezed her thigh again, enjoying the softness of her skin and limb. This was her birthday, but she was definitely his present.

  Chapter 6 - After

  “How’s she doing?”

  Kane didn’t bother turning around to answer Gray. Why would he? That would mean he’d have to stop watching Vanity. The love of his life was on her bed, covers twisted around her body like a noose, her head turning back and forth as tears streamed from her eyes. He was sitting in a chair in front of the security monitors his legs on the desk, while his fucking heart continued to twist in a vice. “Bad night. Demons are riding her hard again.”

  “Well, she’s about to get a wake-up call.”

  On a different monitor, the front door opened, and Kane watched as Ivy—Gray’s wife—and Lara—David’s wife entered the lake house and moved to the kitchen. He winced at the noise the two women were making, but at least it helped rouse Violet from the nightmares torturing her and entice her away from her room. “Are you sure they know what they’re doing? She needs rest.”

  “We checked with her doctor, man. Violet’s been sleeping enough. It’s time to wake her up.” Gray turned Kane’s head back to the monitor while increasing the volume on the speakers so they could both hear.

  “Are you hungry?”

  Violet stood in the archway on the kitchen, blinking at the two women who were opening containers, filling plates, and rustling through her refrigerator. “I ... I .... What are you two doing here?”

  “You know us, Violet. We saw you all the time at the club.”

  “I know, but ... you’re here. I don’t understand.”

  Lara, being Lara, went over to Violet and hugged her, ignoring the way she went stiff, her arms straight by her sides, her hands in tight fists. “We’re here to bring you some decent food.”

  Kane popped up from his seat with concern, but Gray pushed him back down. “Ivy’s the one who cooked.” Kane hid his relief, Lara was a deadly weapon in the kitchen. Ivy, however, was pure genius. He watched with disbelief as the two women sat Violet down at the small table, put food and coffee in front of her, and teasingly got her eating. His jaw fell open as Violet dug into her food, and then he smiled.

  Gray kicked the wheel of his chair. “You okay?”

  “Yeah ... I just ... I haven’t seen her eat more than two mouthfuls in six months.”

  “She’s not the only one.” Gray shoved a heaping plate in front of him, as well as a steaming cup of coffee. “We’re fighting a dual front here, buddy. David’s with Davis making him eat as well.” Gray handed him a napkin with fork and knife. He waited until Kane started eating before broaching the subject that clearly inspired this goodwill trip. “You two need to really ask the hard question, now.”

  “That’s all we fucking do, but she’s not ready to answer.”

  “She may not come back from this, Kane. The girl you loved may have died. Some traumas don’t re-forge you, they destroy you. I’m a living example of just that. You need to recognize it. Vanity may have really been killed by what happened, and just left her body behind.”

  “You don’t know her, Gray. She’ll rise up. Vanity always does.”

  “Hell, Kane. You can’t even remember to call her Violet. How the fuck are you ever going to accept who this girl is?”

  “I believe in us. I have to.”

  “Cross your fingers. The girls have a plan. I hope to God it works ... for all three of you.”

  VIOLET WATCHED IN DISBELIEF as these two women, who positively glowed with health and happiness, swept into her quiet little cottage and lit it up with their personalities. These women acted as if they’d never had a bad day in their lives. Violet was surprised at how comforting it felt; as if her soul was frozen and the pair was a sudden warm comforter. They shared with her how their husbands were involved with saving her. How impressed they were at what Daisy, and she, did to survive.

  How much Daisy cared about her.

  She hadn’t seen Daisy since they woke up in the warehouse. Where was she? When she first saw the former ballet dancer at the S&M club they worked in, she’d been horribly jealous of her. Violet figured the slim dancer was there for Kane, and she’d almost gone to her knees with the pain of seeing him with another girl. But Daisy only ever had eyes for the club owners, Roman and Bear. Violet had gone to work at the club when she saw Kane in Seattle by chance and followed him to it. He never recognized her, though, and she died a little when they bumped into each other over and over.

  The years and the accident changed her, but she never imagined her first, her only love, wouldn’t recognize her.

  “We have a secret.”

  Looking up at Lara, Violet tried to figure out what they’d been talking about. “Okay?”

  “We’re trying to feel you out about making us a dress.”

  Did the two women want one dress? “I don’t understand.”

  “We wanted to hire you to create our bridesmaid dresses. Daisy is getting married, and we were hoping you’d make our gowns.”

  “Oh.” Violet looked down at her plate and sighed. She’d always wanted to make a wedding gown. She got she shouldn’t feel sad about not being asked, but she still did. “Sure. It’s the least I can do.”

  “Let’s go look at fabrics.” Ivy snagged Violet’s hand and dragged her to the spare bedroom. Stepping inside she froze. “Oh. This is intimidating.”

  “Did Daisy pick her colors yet?”

  “I think she’s waiting for you to tell her what would work best.”

  “That’s ... nice.” Violet stayed frozen in the middle of the room, one hand hovering over the workbench as the two women walked up and down the aisle of fabric racks. She’d done little more than a glance in this room since she moved in. Suddenly being provided with your dream come true workshop was intimidating when you weren’t recovering from a devastating trauma. Her palms itched with longing to pick up a pencil and start drawing. “Do you know what her dress looks like?”

  Lara was in front of her suddenly. “Daisy’s waiting to ask you to make it.”

  “Who else would she want?” Ivy asked.

  “I’m not really a designer.” Violet swiped at the tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. “I just make costumes and junk.”

  “And yet, you’re the only one she trusts. Now, let’s have you take our measurements, and we’ll get out of your hair, cause, newsflash, you’re the only one we trust, too.” Lara gave her a full-body squeeze again, and this time, Violet didn’t tense up from head-to-toe from the contact.

  “HOW’S IT GOING?” DAVIS asked from behind him. Gray had gone to collect the ladies from the cottage over an hour ago. He had just driven up to the door, honked his horn, and waited for Kane’s future wife’s two best friends to join him. All this talk of Daisy’s wedding made Kane long to look at one of those magazines which had seven-page spreads on the benefits of tu
lle. One problem: Doctor Shane had been quite clear to them, no men allowed inside the house until Violet chose.

  “She’s been working on the dresses since they left.”

  “That’s good, right? I mean, it seems like it should be good.”

  He wanted to give his best friend, a man so close to him he considered Davis a brother, some good news. He wanted so badly to agree with him. Kane tried to find a mid-way point. “I hope it’s good news, bud. I just ...”

  “What? Whatever it is just tell me. You told me if this is going to work long-term, there can never be secrets between us.”

  “There aren’t. Not where she’s concerned.”

  Davis sighed and took the seat beside him. “Just tell me.”

  “She’s working, but she’s sobbing.” He toggled the switch so Davis could get a close-up of the woman they both loved, who was madly drawing on one of the sketch pads they’d equipped the room with, as tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “Tell me again about the first time.”

  “You’re feeling fucking morbid, huh?”

  “What I’m feeling is like a masochist, but I’m taking what I can get.”

  Chapter 9 - Before

  Vanity couldn’t believe it. She was in Kane’s car. He just gave her a better orgasm than any she’d ever generated by her own middle of the night fumbling. And his hand was still on her inside thigh, petting her, moving back and forth making her whole body feel like one endless need. She’d dreamt of this moment, scrimped and saved to try and find the right outfit for it, but never once imagined it like this. Her lips felt swollen and tingled from the force of his kiss. He hadn’t touched her breasts since they got into the car, but she had to keep looking down because she’d swear his fingers were still squeezing the tips. And her pussy felt like it was on fire, her thighs slick with her desire.

  Kane used the hidden security entrance to avoid the guards on the main gates. The blanket covering her was soft, but nothing felt as good as his roughened palm moving over her skin. “Since when do you have calluses, gotrocks?”

  He chuckled. “I took up some martial arts classes and combat training at school.”

  “Really? How come?” Vanity wanted anything to focus on other than the growing desire she felt as Kane began to circle her clit through her thong. She couldn’t orgasm twice in the car. Honestly, that had to be tacky.

  “A friend got me into it.”

  They pulled in front of the guest house, and Kane turned off the car. “You don’t have to do this, Vanity. If you’ve changed your mind, we’ll forget any of this ever happened. We’ll still be friends.”

  “I want this, Kane. I’ve been hiding outside the second-floor window since I was twelve. I knew I wanted you then—”

  “Why not tell me?”

  Vanity smiled and closed her eyes as the pain lanced through her. He cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing her lips so gently she would have thought she imagined it if he hadn’t done it again. “I wasn’t legal. I know you, Kane. I knew you’d laugh it off, and that, that ...”

  “Tell me.”

  “If you laughed at me ...”

  “That would have killed you.” When Vanity’s surprise widened her eyes, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss against each of her lids. “I know you, Vanity. I know how sweet you are, and my father with his fucking eighteenth-century ideas about society hasn’t helped your self-esteem.”

  “Are you taking my virginity or not, gotrocks?”

  Kane shook his head, and she knew he understood how sensitive she was to anything about his father, the senior Senator from Virginia. The man had always intimidated her when she got old enough to understand the difference between men and women, it went fast into the terrified category. When Kane spoke, his voice was teeming with raw, unchecked, need. “I’m taking your everything, Vanity. Every fucking thing.”

  She stayed in her seat, trembling, as he got out of the car and came around to her side. When he opened the door, he knelt down to unclasp her seatbelt as her breath came in tiny gasps, and her eyes grew wide. This was really happening. Kane didn’t bother to talk or ask her for permission. He reached in, lifted her out of the car, and cradled her against his chest. “Last chance to say no, sweeting.”

  “Isn’t there a safe word or something you’re supposed to tell me?”

  “How about ... father?”

  “Why that?”

  “If you’re willing to invoke either of our dads I know you’re serious about wanting to stop. And I need you to know, you do indeed, have the power.”

  Vanity giggled. “I learned that from spying on you.”

  “Remind me to spank you for that later.”

  Her toes curled at the memory, and Vanity wrapped her arms around his neck and hid her face against his shoulder. He chuckled at her discomfort, but it was the kind of laugh that made you very happy you caused it instead of wondering how you’d just embarrassed yourself. Kane didn’t seem to notice her weight at all. She heard the car door slam, the guest house door open and close when she felt him tipping her onto the mottled wood surface of the coffee table her eyes popped open. “Kane ... I’m too heavy. Put me on the floor, or I’ll break it.”

  “If you really have been watching me, you know not to try to top me from the bottom.” His hands cupped her shoulders to guide her into standing straight. Her fingers fluttered at her blanket’s edge as she tightened her arms to keep it close to her body. “You’re here to be worshipped, baby. Stay put where I tell you.”

  “What happens if I don’t?” She placed a hand on his shadowed jaw, her stomach twisting at the lust she saw in his eyes.

  Kane’s hand shot out and smacked her bottom, the thunderclap of the strike seemed to fill up the room, her toes clenching in her strappy sandals as the heat bloomed in her center. “You won’t like disobeying, sweeting. Tonight is going to be about you. Getting your body used to mine on yours. Then you’re mine, I will own you. And just for the record ... what I do, and when I do it, will be no one’s business but mine.”

  “Except if I use the safe word.”

  “Correct. And if you use it, everything stops. You never come back in here again, and we forget any of this happens.”

  For the second time, that night a shaft of agony pierced her heart. She knew Kane. He meant what he was saying. He’d act like this never happened. Hell, he’d probably never speak to her again. She was risking everything on one night with him, and she could lose ... her virginity ... her best friend ... every dream she ever had could end tonight with him.

  Lifting her head, she stared down into his eyes and shrugged. “What are you waiting for?”

  KANE FELT A SURGE OF triumph that would have sent him to his knees at any other time. She needed him to be strong. She needed to know he would always be there for her. He could guard his control and give her everything while still keeping them both safe. He wanted to rip the blanket off of the body she’d freely offered him and toss it into the fire. Not being able to function another moment with her shielded from his eyes, he flicked the blanket from her hold and threw it on the floor behind him. She stood there, on the table, trembling from the need in his eyes, warily watching him as his eyes traveled from her face, down her chest to circle her bountiful breasts over the swell of her stomach, down the purple and lace thong shielding her bare pussy and continuing to travel down her long legs.

  When he started to step around her, he tightened as her head moved to follow. He delivered another stinging slap on her ass. “Stay still.”

  “Sorry.” She quivered from head-to-toe, but this time when he ran the back of his hand from her left heel to her thigh, she locked her muscles. His other hand followed the same course until he reached the curve of her honey ass. Cupping her cheeks, he took a moment to trace he handprint he could see in dusky rose with his tongue. A small sound exploded from her mouth, almost a whimper before she cut herself off.

  “Do you understand what I want to do? How much I want to tear you a
part? I want to whip you, Vanity, paint your beautiful honey skin with blood. I want to kiss your tears and knit you back together only to tear you apart again.”

  She bit her lip and leaned toward him as if he was creating a magnetic force from which she could not fight.

  “Is that what you want, sweeting?” She nodded, so he smacked her bottom again, focusing the blow on an untouched part of her ass so he could enjoy the red handprint that rose. “Answer audibly, please.”

  “Yes. I want it all.”

  “Tell me what you saw, hiding in a tree outside my window?”

  “Everything.”

  Her whisper was so faint he struck her ass again bringing his handprint back to life. Standing behind her, he took the time to adjust himself. His cock was so swollen it felt like it was trying to punch out of his jeans through the zipper, sensing the sweet, hot pussy so close. “Louder, sweeting. If I own this body, this mind, this soul,” he struck her with each word. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of here.”

  “Everything. I saw you use a whip, a flogger, a paddle. All kinds of toys—”

  “Which kind of toys?”

  “Some of them I couldn’t see. I had to look it up later to figure out what the shadows or the little pieces of what you were using were.”