Owning Violet
Page 38

 Monica Murphy

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“Tell me.” He caresses my cheek with his fingertips and I lean into his hand, closing my eyes. His touch is so gentle but his words are so stern. “Do you trust me?”
I open my eyes and stare up at him. “No. I don’t know.” It’s true. Can I really trust him? What if he uses this moment, this affair, against me? I’m putting everything at risk, especially my reputation.
And to me and my family and our business, my reputation is everything.
He smiles. “Good answer. You shouldn’t trust me. Not completely. But I can promise that I won’t hurt you. That’s not my intention here. You can put a stop to this at any time. This is all for you.”
All for me? No man has put my pleasure ahead of his before. But doesn’t Ryder want anything out of it? He’s talking as if this is some great sacrifice. “I understand,” I say with a small nod.
“Good. Now.” He pauses. “May I tie you up? Just your wrists.”
Another small nod and a shaky sigh. “O-okay.”
He reaches for my hands and lifts them above my head. “Lie back,” he urges softly and I do as he commands, my arms resting on the edge of the back of the couch. He steps close, his chest brushing against my face as he wraps the red silk around my wrists once, twice, three times before tying the fabric into a knot. “This is loose enough that if you really struggled, you could break free. Or just tell me to stop and I will.”
I test the knots, jerking my wrists against the binding fabric. My butt is sunk into the cushion and my legs are slightly spread, heels braced flat on the floor. Ryder steps away, his eyes roving over me, from my arms bound above my head down to my chest, my breasts pushing upward because of the position I’m in. His gaze drops farther, to the spot between my legs, and he smiles.
“Spread your legs open.”
I do as he asks, my shoes sliding across the floor. I can feel myself. I’m wet. So wet and aching for him, I feel light-headed. Like I could faint.
And then he’s right there in front of me, his mouth taking mine hungrily, his hand pressed against my right breast, cupping my flesh, his thumb circling my nipple. I lift into him, a moan breaking free as his tongue finds mine. His hands are everywhere, his mouth like a drug that I can’t get enough of. I lift my arms, a frustrated whimper escaping me when I realize I can’t touch him, and he pulls away from me, shaking his head.
“Leave your arms above your head,” he warns and I do as he asks, my head going back when he rains kisses along my jaw, my throat, my chest. Drawing closer and closer to my breasts until I’m squirming beneath him, wanting his mouth on my nipple, sucking it deep.
But he teases me, as if he knows exactly what I want, and instead gives me something else. He blazes a path with his mouth between my breasts, along the underside of first one breast, then the other. I’m trembling, my breaths coming in short puffs as he tortures me endlessly with his mouth. He licks my skin with his warm, velvety tongue and when he finally takes a quick swipe at my nipple, I cry out.
“Sshh,” he murmurs against my skin, just before he draws my nipple between his lips and sucks it deep.
I buck against him, closing my eyes and then immediately opening them again. I don’t want to miss a thing. Don’t want to miss the sight of Ryder’s head bent over my chest, his tongue circling my hard, wet nipple, his hand sliding down, down, down, until he’s gripping the inside of my thigh and pushing my legs apart even farther.
He pulls away and kneels in front of me, his hands on the inside of my thighs, his gaze locked in between my legs. I watch him watch me, my chest rising and falling, my skin on fire, my entire body aching for more. It’s all happening so fast and I feel like I could come apart at any moment. Just having his eyes on me, his fingers curling into the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, is almost enough to make me come apart.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs. “And so wet.”
I should be mortified that he’s studying me so intently, but I secretly love it. Wish I could spread my legs farther to let him see more, all of me. He grazes his fingers over my trimmed pubic hair and I flinch. His fingers fall lower, tracing my skin with a feather-light touch. Searching my folds, streaking across my clit, sliding back down to trace every single part of me …
“Could I make you come with just my fingers?” It’s almost as if he’s talking to himself. “Or would you like my mouth on you, too?”
Oh God, he’s trying to kill me in the absolute best way. “Your mouth,” I whisper.
His eyes meet mine, full of wicked intent. “Yeah?”
I nod, pressing my legs in so my thighs bracket his hips. “Please.”
The sly smile that spreads across his face tells me he likes this. Making me beg. “Just my lips?” He drops the softest, briefest kiss on the very top of my pubic bone. “Or my tongue, too?”
“All of it,” I say on a gasp, wishing I could grip his head with my hands and push his face into me. I’m on the edge, on the verge of falling completely apart, and he’s teasing me.
Always teasing me. Testing me.
As if he knows I’m so close, he doesn’t bother with words any longer. He puts his mouth on me, licking and sucking, his tongue searching my folds as he pushes his finger inside me. I whimper, tossing my head back and forth against the edge of the couch, my gaze never leaving the sight of Ryder devouring me. Another finger joins the first one and he’s pumping them inside my welcoming body, his lips attached to my clit, his hot mouth driving me to the brink.