I moan instead of using words, because all I want is for him to touch me, damn it, and he’s not.
“What’s the person’s name who did this for you?”
That’s a weird question. “Jamie.”
Alex’s eyes lift to mine. The right side of his jaw tics. Oh, shitballs. I’ve seen that look before a few times.
“What does Jamie look like?” he asks.
I roll my eyes when I realize what he wants to know. “Jamie’s a girl, Alex. There aren’t any boy vagazzlers.”
“Right. Of course not.”
I’m not about to tell him Jamie has a girlfriend, though. I’m not her type, anyway, and I like penis way too much, especially his. Which I’m definitely getting a dose of soon, if he can stop asking about the blinged-out beave.
I might be less tolerant of his insecurity if I didn’t know he was struggling with not having been his full-on alpha, protective self for the past month. But because I realize how challenging it’s been, I’m much more patient. Also, his fingers are close to my vag.
And then I get what I’ve been waiting for: Alex grazes my beaver button.
I whore-moan nice and loud. I also lift my pelvis to encourage more contact.
Alex mutters a low fuck and starts circling, slow and soft. It’s killing me, but I’ll take it. The torture is definitely going to be worth it. We have more than four weeks of pent-up hot-sex-on-hold to release, and this is likely going to be round one of many as Alex recovers his stamina.
I’ll need to make sure I have Epsom salts handy.
“Know what I love?” Alex’s voice is all sexy rasp. His attention is fixed on his fingers, still circling.
I have a feeling I already know the answer to this question, but Alex wants to tell me, because sometimes he likes to say dirty things. “What do you love, Alex?” I mostly moan his name.
His eyes flip up to mine. Mother of all things orgasmic, the expression on his face alone is almost enough to send me hurtling through Come-topia.
He slides one of his amazing fingers inside me. My eyes roll, taking away my fucktastic view for a second. He waits until they roll back down before he answers. “How wet you always are for me.”
Alex often comments on the rainforest-like state of my vag when he’s all up in there making me feel good. It’s as if my wetness is a litmus test for his sexiness.
“I can’t help it,” I tell him. “You’re just so good at making me hot.”
He adds another finger, fluttering faster. “Do I make you feel good?”
“So good.” I grip the edge of the counter behind my head and start rolling my hips to help him reach the goal. I have a feeling I’m going to be the recipient of a lot of orgasms.
The first one is like being punched in the clit with a gift bag of awesome. I moan Alex’s name extra loud.
“That’s it, Violet. I can’t wait to fuck you with my tongue.”
“Oh my God, yes, please.”
I’m not even done coming yet when he covers my still-throbbing clit with his mouth and starts sucking. I shriek and try to get away from his tongue, but he splays his hand out over my boob and holds me in place.
Releasing my death grip on the edge of the counter, I grab his hair and pull, hard. Alex groans and sucks even harder. My entire field of vision clouds with a starburst of white, a black haze crowding the edging. I can’t stop coming; it’s insane. I’m chanting something incoherent—words interspersed with moans.
I clamp his head with my thighs, and when my vision finally returns to normal, I look down my body, past where he’s holding onto my boob, over my stomach and bedazzled vagina mound to where his nose is pressed right below the crystal beaver.
His dark gaze is locked on my face. My mouth drops open when he stops with the rough sucking and starts the tongue swirls. He’s going to kill me with orgasms. I pull in a gasping breath when he leaves my poor, overstimulated beaver button, replaces his fingers with his tongue inside me, and makes good on his dirty promise to fuck me that way.
It’s like he’s trying to eat me alive, but not in a horror movie kind of way, in a love-the-fuck-out-of-me kind of way. Maybe I should vagazzle more often.
I think he’s going for an orgasms record. I don’t even know if I’ve stopped coming since I started. I throw my head back, but I don’t connect with granite. Instead my head hangs over the edge of the counter. The living room is upside down behind me.
Across the room I can see it’s dark out now. And the windows offer a mirror-like reflection of Alex’s massive, broad shoulders and his head between my legs. Wow, do we ever look hot. This is some seriously intense foreplay we’ve got going on. I glance to the right, where the sliding glass doors provide another version of the view, so of course the orgasm that hasn’t stopped revs right back up. I’m shuddering and moaning and fisting Alex’s hair while I grind all over his face.
He lifts his head and swipes across his mouth with the back of his hand. His chest is heaving, abs tight, expression fierce as he drags me down the counter toward him.
I try words, but all I get are some sounds and maybe part of his name.
His right dimple pops. “What was that?”
I push up on my elbows. It’s not that easy since my body seems to be made of wet noodles. “So many orgasms.”
“You want more?” He slides his hand into his Super MC boxer briefs and pushes the cotton down until his cock pops out. It’s one of my favorite parts of his body.
He really doesn’t need to ask. I think it’s pretty damn obvious with all my scream-coming that I’m more than happy to be on the receiving end of his orgasm gifts. But Alex would like to hear me say it, so I’m going to go ahead and give him what he wants, so he’ll give me what we both want, which is his magical dick inside me.
“Please.”
He’s stroking himself. I can’t decide where I want to look—at his gorgeous face or at his wide palm wrapped around his enormous cock.
“Please what?” He circles the head a few times with his thumb before he reverses the motion.
“I want more orgasms.” I scoot forward. The counter is slippery under my ass, possibly from my excessive coming, possibly from Alex’s sloppy eating.
Alex takes a step closer so his thighs rest against the counter. He taps my clit with the tip of Super MC.
I moan, because really, he’s so hot, and I’m so ready to be fucked.
“You want my cock, baby?”
I shudder and nod. “So bad.”
He keeps his eyes on me while he rubs the head up and down my slit. “You want me to fuck your pussy?”
Jesus. He’s really into the dirty talking today. Not that I’m opposed. I’m not. He just hasn’t been like this in a long time, and I’m surprised at how much I’ve missed this side of him.
“Yes, please.”
Alex palms the back of my neck with the hand that isn’t gripping the Super MC and encourages me to sit up. We both look down as he lines himself up and the head disappears.
He doesn’t give me any more. Instead he pulls out and glides the head back up to circle my clit. I lean in and kiss his chin. His whole face smells like me. We’re both going to need a shower after this, and the island is going to need a hose down.
He lifts his head until his lips touch mine. I cup his face in my hands—they’re shaking, my whole body trembling with anticipation and residual orgasm aftershocks.
“I need you,” I whisper against his vagina-flavored lips.
On the next pass down he goes in a little farther. “How much of me?”
“All of you.” I’m not actually just referring to his Super MC, though I’d be more than happy to hug all of him. I’m referring to the entire package of gorgeous, sexy, NHL-playing, sometimes insecure, sensitive, alpha, polite, and thoughtful man.
Alex must sense this, because his eyes stay on mine as he eases inside, inch by mind-numbingly amazing inch. We both whore-moan. It feels so good to be full of him.
“I l
ove you.” He strokes along the side of my neck.
“I love you back.” I nibble on his bottom lip.
He kisses me. It’s soft and warm, full of all the things I need: love, tenderness, and desire.
Neither of us does any hip shifting. I sit with my legs spread wide, topped up with Super MC, while we make out. Eventually Alex breaks the connection between the lips on our faces.
His nose brushes my cheek, and he breathes me in. “I’m gonna fuck you now, is that okay?”
“So okay.” I flex the beave, hugging his dick tightly.
He chuckles, then grabs my ass with his free hand. We both look down to watch as he eases out. The recessed lights overhead make his cock glisten. I get a glimpse of the ridge, and then he pushes back in.
At first I think maybe he’s lost the desire for the hard fuck, but then I realize he’s just warming me up. After four more slow strokes, Alex releases the back of my neck and puts a hand on the center of my chest, right between my boobs. I lie back on the counter again.
He runs both hands up my sides and palms my breasts. “I can’t believe I’ve ignored these.” He leans over me and kisses each nipple, sucking one and then the other. I run my fingers through his hair and try not to grip too tight as he starts up a hard grind. I’m slammed with another orgasm.
Alex straightens, grabs my hips, and then he rams me. It’s the fuck of the ages. He goes from slow to vigorous in an instant, pumping hard. When he can’t get the leverage he wants, he grabs both of my ankles and rests them on his left shoulder, pulling me right to the edge and fucking me like we’re making a porno.
God, he’s hot. His muscles strain, his biceps and forearms flexing. When that’s not enough for him—or maybe he’s not feeling like he can get deep enough, or he’s not close enough, who knows—he shifts my legs to the right, changing the angle. Then he puts his knee up on the counter and covers my body with his.
It’s a weird position, particularly since we’re on the island and both of us can’t really fit up here. Not that I’m going to complain. I’m on orgasm number sixty-five million, so it can be as awkward as Alex is comfortable with. I’m definitely going to have a few sore spots tomorrow, though. Which is also okay.
Alex keeps pounding away, and we migrate up the counter until my head is hanging over the edge again. Alex, being the considerate man he is, even in the middle of our fuck-a-thon, cradles the back of my head so I don’t have to hold it up.
“Look at the window,” I manage to rasp between moans.
“What?”
“The window, it’s like a mirror.” I let go of one of his shoulders so I can point behind us.
Alex lifts his head, and his rhythm falters for half a second. He breathes out a fuck, and suddenly I’m rearranged so one of my legs rests on his shoulder and the other is wrapped around his waist. And then he’s back to pounding, his attention divided between our reflection in the window and me. It’s a good thing it’s treated glass, otherwise those living nearby would be getting a whole lot more neighborly love than they anticipated.
The sex seems to go on forever. Alex must have jacked off while I was out.
When he comes, it’s on a guttural groan that includes my name. He collapses on top of me, his lips on my neck, his back expanding with each hard pant. I can feel his heart beating furiously against my boob.
We’re disgustingly sweaty. My hair is wet around my temples, and my forehead is damp. I’m pretty sure I just felt sweat drip in my ass crack.
It’s awesome.
16
Now I Get
Why the Evasion
ALEX
Violet smells like lavender and sweat. And I feel like I’ve been on a breakaway that lasted an hour. It really doesn’t take me long to lose endurance anymore. But now that I have the green light from my doctor, I’m going to work on getting that back as often and as quickly as possible.
I’m still inside Violet. I’m also lying on top of her, and I’m not doing much to prevent her from bearing the full brunt of my weight. Every breath she takes is accompanied by a moan and a small clenching of her pussy around my cock, which is part of the reason I’m not moving yet.
Her right ankle is beside my ear. Her other foot drops to the counter with a low thud. I pretty much have her pretzeled in half. On a slab of granite. Christ, I’m an asshole.
Favoring my left arm, I push up to survey the damage I’ve done to my fiancée. Her lips are red and puffy, her bangs are sticking to her forehead, and her mascara is smudged under her eyes.
I caress her cheek, furtively rubbing away a black smear. I really did a number on her. “Are you okay?”
Her eyes roll down. She looks drunk. “Am I okay?” She sounds drunk, too.
I puff out a breath. “That was…I shouldn’t have. I was just…” I don’t know what I’m trying to say. I think I feel bad because it was so good to finally be the one in control again.
Violet puts her hand over my mouth. “Do not apologize for loving me hard, Alex.”
“That was okay?” I ask from behind her palm.
“I came like a bazillion times. It was more than okay.”
“I was worried I got carried away.” I ease off the counter so I’m not on top of her anymore. Unfortunately that means I’m also not inside her.
“Carried away? Honestly, Alex, I needed another round of gentle lovemaking like I need your dick to be any bigger than it already is.”
I look down at my cock. He’s at half-mast and slow to deflate. I also have a bunch of those crystal things stuck to my abs.
“Beyond all the coming, my cock-love chanting should tell you I enjoyed myself. A lot. Anytime you feel the need to drill me like a porn star, I’m game.”
“God, I love you.”
Violet smiles, and it’s gorgeous. “I love you, too.” She slides off the counter and makes a face, looks over her shoulder, then gags. “I think I just slid through a puddle of jizz.”
“We should go have a shower. Then we can come back down and have pancakes.”
“I forgot all about the pancakes!” Violet looks down and touches the mess of crystals smeared across her abdomen, the letters no longer readable. “Hmm. I guess hot sex and vagazzling don’t go together.”
“Maybe not.”
“Oh well. It was worth the time if you’re going to sex me like that.”
We have what’s supposed to be a quick shower, but turns into a long one because I get hard again. This time I’m much more careful with my fiancée. Afterward we return to the kitchen to appease the appetite we’ve worked up.
Violet sanitizes the island three times before we eat. The pancakes are dry, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She slathers them in butter and dumps maple syrup over her entire plate, including the bacon.
A faint buzzing sound comes from her purse, which ended up on the floor—no surprise—during sex.
I pick it up and set it on the island as the buzzing continues. Violet glances at her purse, but goes back to eating. And still the buzzing goes on.
“Do you think maybe you should check your messages?”
“I will. When I’m finished eating.” She picks up a strip of bacon, dripping with syrup, tips her head back, and lowers it into her mouth while looking at me out of the corner of her eye. She gets all but one inch in before she bites it off. It’s phallic. And then she moans her maple pleasure.
We only have the real kind of syrup. When Violet and I started dating, she ate the cheap crap that’s mostly corn syrup and food coloring. Then I introduced her to real maple syrup. Now she won’t eat anything else, and we have a pantry full of maple products.
“You know, I have something I think you might like dipped in maple syrup,” I offer.
“That’s one way to get a blow job out of me.”
“Can’t get enough of my dick, eh?”
Violet snorts.
Her phone chimes again, four more times in succession. I shove my hand in her purse and root around for it.
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Violet drops her fork and grabs my wrist. “Don’t do that!”
I retract, surprised. “Whoa! What’s the deal?”
She clutches her purse to her chest, her eyes wide, panicked almost. It’s an odd reaction over me sticking my hand in her purse. What’s in there she doesn’t want me to see?
“I, uh…” Her eyes dart around the room. “I have…girl things in here.”
I raise a brow. “Girl things?”
Her phone keeps buzzing. “Uh…yeah…like tampons. And stuff.”
“Violet, I’ve bought tampons for you before.” Darren was with me. I’d never ventured down that aisle on purpose before. There are an awful lot of options.
She’s still clutching her purse to her chest. Something’s going on. She looks way too terrified for this to be about “girl things.”
“What’s going on? What are you hiding from me?”
“Nothing!” The high pitch to her voice tells me without a doubt she’s lying.
“Who’s texting you?”
“No one.” She purses her lips, seeming aware that I know she’s bullshitting.
I cross my arms over my chest, ignoring the twinge of discomfort in my right shoulder. I probably overdid it with the finger-fucking and hard sex, but making Violet come that many times makes me feel awesome. “Really? So no one has texted you fifty times in the last ten minutes?”
“It’s probably Sunny, or Lily, or Charlene. We’re on a group chat, and everyone’s guessing the sex of the baby.”
I might buy that if they hadn’t spent the entire day together and Violet’s face wasn’t an unnatural shade of red.
“I think you’re lying.”
As soon as she loosens her grip on her purse, I grab it and turn it upside down. The contents spill out all over the counter, including her phone. There are a lot of receipts and tissues in there. And pens. A ridiculous number of pens. I don’t see one tampon, though.
I snatch up her phone before she can.
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