The Failing Hours (How to Date a Douchebag #2)

“You feel so good.” She gasps. “Your hands are incredible…”

Women have said this before, moaned into the air about how good I’m making them feel, but this is different. Nothing about Violet is rehearsed or dramatic. Everything is genuine.

So when she whispers that my hands are incredible, my chest swells with pleasure. Satisfaction and pride.

Lust.

I lick her earlobe. “You should see the things these hands can do. Want me to show you?”

A quick, fervent nod and another hum. “Mmmhmm.”

We shuck our jeans enthusiastically, lying on top of the bed in nothing but our underwear.

Resting my head on her shoulder, I kiss the side of her neck, letting my flat, open palm float up her semi-nude figure, leaving a ripple of goose bumps in its wake across her skin. Beginning at her calf, my hand is so big it easily encircles her entire leg, flattening when I reach her knee.

Spans her thigh, stroking it leisurely. My thumb finds its way into the elastic band of her underwear, trailing up the leg hole toward her lean hips. Glides across her stomach, her abs, forefinger tracing around her belly button in slow steady loops.

She watches my hand the entire time, sucking in a breath when I walk my middle and index fingers up her delicate sternum.

Violet turns her face just then, our eyes connecting as I continue tenderly stroking her skin. Along the swell of her breasts, then down the smooth expanse of her shoulders. When I reach her wrist, our fingers entwine.

I kiss her nose.

She kisses mine.

I breathe her in—breathe in everything about this girl—from her scented shampoo to the smell of her clean, flawless skin.

They say not to judge a person by their appearances because looks can be deceiving, but there is nothing deceiving about this girl.

She is everything on the inside that she appears to be on the outside. Sweet. Compassionate. Kind. And beautiful—heart, body, and mind.

Violet DeLuca is my opposite in every sense of the word.

My finger travels the curve of her brow, trailing along to her temple. When her mouth tips into a shy smile and that pretty pink top lip bites down on the bottom…it’s agony.

My eyes squeeze closed when I kiss her, dark brows creasing in concentration. I don’t dare open them again.

Every part of me tingles during this kiss. The sensations are ones I won’t surely forget any time soon, ones I can’t even describe without sounding like a fucking pansy.

Shit, I already do sound like one.

Violet rolls into me, our fronts pressed together, perfectly aligned until I shift, my stiff dick snuggly tucked between her legs. Right where it fucking should be.

I wrap my arms around her, hands running down her spine, down her ass, squeezing both cheeks and pulling her toward me, the pressure in my balls so fucking satisfying, I groan.

Her hips gyrate slightly when my thumb hooks her underwear, dragging them down. She gropes at mine with fumbling fingers.

Together, we kick off our underwear, and, “Oh god, naked feels so good,” she moans, tossing her head back when I suck on her neck. Drag my tongue down to her nipples and suck on those, too.

Her hand tentatively reaches between us and grabs my cock. Wraps around it tight, up and down. Up…and…down.

I stop moving. Stop breathing.

Hold my intake of breath, anticipation damn near killing me as my eyes roll to the back of my head from her enthusiastic ministrations.

“Yeah, stroke it,” I groan into her hair, wanting to fist it but afraid I’ll hurt her. “Shit.”

“Am I doing this right?” Her hazel eyes are glassy, lips pink and pouty.

“God yes. All you have to do is touch me and I’d get off.”

As she jerks my giant hard-on, I count to ten, not wanting to blow my load in her hand. I want to blow it inside her.

“Violet?”

She lifts her eyes.

“Bare back?”

We didn’t use a condom last time and I never want to use them with her again.

Her mouth forms an O with a nod. “I’m on the pill.”

I reach for her hips. Her lips.

Our mouths fuse like two lovers solely surviving on kisses. Wet. Sloppy. Exciting.

I reach between her legs, fingers dragging along her part.

Her head hits the bedspread, hair fanned out.

I lean down and cover her mouth with mine, drowning out her surprised yelp when my dick is buried to the hilt. A perfect fit. So fucking snug. Tight.

Using my muscular thighs, I slowly pump into her. Clench my ass cheeks from the effort. Violet’s eyes soften, lids heavy. Mouth parts. Head tips back against the pillow.

Yeah, that’s it Violet.

“Give in to the cock, baby.”

My pelvis rocks, fueled by the sight of her aroused gaze.

I cannot stop kissing her lips.

Her pink, perfect lips.

This isn’t a quick fuck; this is a slow sizzle, the build up crazy fucking good and I can’t even come up with the words.

We barely make any noise; soft sighs and low, drawn-out moans are the only sounds filling my room, the bed scooting across the hardwood floor on its metal castors with every tender but forceful thrust.

I suck on her neck when my left hand digs under her ass to pull her in, binding us closer. Making me crazy.

God I love fucking. “Violet.”

I love fucking her. “Violet.”

She’s so fucking sweet. “Violet.”

I lick and suck and kiss her into a frenzy, her head lolling from side to side, mouth gaping open, arms thrown over her head.

“Does that hurt?” I demand, grinding her pelvis into my mattress. “Am I being too rough?”

A tortured whine. “N-Nooo, god no, it’s perfect…”

“You fucking like it, don’t you?”

“Y-Yesssss….” She’s whining, hips raising, pelvis rolling. “God, yes.”

Sweet, pretty little Violet doesn’t mind a little dirty talk with her fucking.

“Say my fucking name.”

Her glassy hazel gaze stares into me before her lips smirk, lust drunk. “Say mine.”

“Violet.”

“Ezekiel,” she moans, stroking my cheeks. “Zeke.”

They say you can spout off some crazy shit when you’re in the middle of fucking, and I gasp out the words, “Where have you been all my life?” before I can stop them. They roll off my tongue like a plea, no taking them back.

Judging by the way her eyes soften, she’s not hating them.

“Where the hell have you been?” I pant, pumping my hips, wishing I would just shut the fuck up already.

My sweaty forehead hits her shoulders and my hips pause.

“Oh fuck baby…Violet…” I thrust into her again, and again, so hard the headboard hits the wall with a satisfying bang. The lamp shakes. “Pix, I love being with you so much I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

I stop pumping. Stop thrusting.

Literally stop, mid-fuck.

She strokes my hair as I lie still inside her, my dick pressed against her clit, all this honestly bullshit making it impossible for me to move.

Violet tests my resolves, squirming beneath me.

“I cannot stop thinking about you, Violet,” I blurt out with a moan; she feels so goddamn good around me, so goddamn good. “I can’t stop, I’m s-sorry.”

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