“You don’t look so bad yourself,” I murmur just before I give her a brief kiss. A torment because all I crave is the taste of her lips, the feel of her tongue. “Tell me you have lots of condoms.”
“I have an entire box in my bedroom.” She rubs her breasts against my chest and I can feel her hard nipples poke through the thin fabric of my long-sleeved T-shirt. When she presses her face to my neck and kisses me there, I close my eyes. Squeeze her lush ass cheeks in my palms, spreading her wide and making her whimper. “M-maybe I should go grab one now?” she asks shakily.
“I shouldn’t fuck you for the first time against the door.” She drops one of her hands to my hips, her fingers sliding beneath my T-shirt to touch my stomach. “But I have a condom in my back pocket.”
“Always prepared.” The devious smile that flashes across her face as she skims her fingers across my abs tells me she’s enjoying this. “And maybe I want you to fuck me against the door.” Jesus. Does she know how much she fascinates me? I’m curious to see how she’ll react when I take off my shirt and she sees me for who I really am.
Or was.
No, still am. I may class it up with a suit and tie every day and work an executive position where I make a shit ton of money I never thought I’d see in this lifetime, but I can’t forget my roots. No matter how badly I want to.
“Take off your shirt,” she whispers, her fingers tugging up on the hem. “I want to feel your skin on mine.”
Damn. Her words are driving me wild. “You ready for this?”
“What? How bad can it be? You have a third nipple or something?” She laughs, enjoying the tease, but I remain solemn, pressing my lower body against hers so I can pin her to the door, and slowly, I remove my shirt and toss it to the ground.
Revealing the tattoos that decorate my upper body and the silver rings that pierce my nipples.
Her eyes widen in fascination and they roam all over me, moving fast, as if they don’t know where to land first. Other women have reacted this way. Countless times. They proclaim my tattoos are hot and my piercings sexy. That’s not what they’re about, though. I didn’t do any of this for any woman, not even Pilar. The tattoos represent moments in my life, moments I didn’t want to forget no matter how difficult they were to endure.
And the piercings? I had those done when I was seventeen and stupid. To prove I could withstand the pain. To show I was some sort of badass, or so I thought.
Only later did they come into play sexually. Sometimes. Pilar has never cared much about them. She prefers I fuck her from behind anyway, so whatever.
“I had no idea you were hiding all this,” Violet whispers, her hand going to my shoulder, where a giant blue and red and orange dragon breathes fire across my chest. “It’s beautiful. So intricate.” Funny how she chose my favorite tattoo, the one that represents me. Breathing fire, destroying my old life, burning it to ashes.
Her fingers flutter up my arm, along my collarbone, over my pec, barely touching my nipple ring. “I just …”
“You just what?” If she says she’s disgusted by the tattoos, my dick will deflate so fast it’ll be some sort of record. That I need her approval is fucking ridiculous. I have never cared before what a woman thought of my body art. I am who I am, and fuck who doesn’t get it.
But I can’t stand the thought of Violet not liking the tattoos or the piercings. She’s as elegant as they come. You look up class in the dictionary and you’d probably see a photo of Violet.
If you looked up trash in the dictionary, you’d probably find a photo of sixteen-year-old sullen-as-hell me.
“I’ve never seen so much colorful work up close before.” She lifts her gaze to mine, her finger gently tugging on one of my nipple rings. “Does that … hurt?”
“It hurt when I got it.” Like a motherfucker, though I gritted my teeth and acted like it was no big deal.
“Does it hurt when I pull on it now?” She tugs a little harder, the tip of her finger brushing my nipple.
“It feels good,” I whisper just before I kiss her, moaning against her lips when she curls her finger around the ring and pulls. Again. A shock wave of sensation streams through me, straight to my dick, but I keep our kiss languid, searching her mouth with my tongue as if we have all the time in the world, which we do.
And I’m going to savor every fucking second of this night with Violet. Make it good for her.
Make it good for me.
“Later,” she murmurs against my lips when I break the kiss, “I’m going to ask for an explanation behind every single tattoo you have.”
“And I’ll give you one.” I kiss her again, my tongue circling hers, teeth nipping at her lower lip. “Much later. But first …”
“But first,” she agrees, laughing against my lips just before I take hers again in a consuming kiss that goes hot and deep in an instant.
She grinds against me and I slip my hand in between us to find her wet and so fucking ready. I slip a finger deep inside her and pump. Once. Twice. Leaning back so I can watch her. She drops her head back against the door, her eyes closed, her mouth slack. I press her clit and she sinks her teeth into her lower lip, lifting her hips against me, trying to deepen the contact.
“You’re getting my jeans wet,” I tell her. She’s beyond primed, grinding her pussy on my fly, rubbing against my dick like some sort of horny teenager.