“Shit,” he breathed.
Violet’s fingers tightened in his hair. His forehead hit her shoulder a second before his cock was withdrawing from her sex, and then slamming right back in again. Her shoulders hit the glass—hard.
Over and over.
Each thrust drove her closer to the precipice again.
His teeth embedded into her shoulder while a shudder racked over his entire back.
Violet arched into his rhythm, wanting his fingers squeezing her even harder, his bite stinging her even sharper, and his cock fucking her even deeper.
She wanted all of that, but she couldn’t get the words out to voice it.
The only sounds she made where a mixture of moans and whimpers that matched his thrusts. Apparently, she didn’t have to say anything, because he just knew.
Like he always seemed to.
His fingers on her thigh dug in, pushing her legs open more and making her muscles burn. On the next thrust, he took her hard enough for it to hurt, but in the best fucking way.
“Oh,” she mumbled.
Kaz’s hand left her waist and slid from her stomach up to her throat. Violet gulped hard as his fingers curled around her throat, and he finally lifted his head.
Gray eyes found her green ones. His jaw, tight and hard, ticked under her palm. She thought he was beautiful like this—more so than any other time. A little raw, maybe. Wild, even.
Colored dark around his edges as he chased a high with her.
So beautiful.
“Harder,” Violet told him.
Kaz bared his teeth, his grimace mixed heavily with pleasure. “Come and I will.”
“I want it harder.”
“Come,” he growled.
Violet whined, feeling his fingertips bite into her throat a little rougher than before. Her lips parted with a high cry, his name following right behind. That seemed to do the trick for Kaz, before he leaned close enough to lick her jaw before his teeth embedded into the same spot.
She came.
So hard.
Violet didn’t even feel the cold glass leave her back as Kaz pulled her away from the window.
But her knees felt the messy bedsheets when he tossed her onto it. He wasn’t done with her it seemed.
Not even close.
Deft, calloused fingers danced over Violet’s naked side, tracing the curve in her waist, skipping down along her hip, and then back to the small of her spine. She shivered, holding back giggles at the slight tickling sensation running over her skin.
“Stop moving,” she heard muttered above her.
Violet tried not to squirm, but as Kaz’s fingertips grazed over the crease of her knee, she couldn’t help but move.
“You make a terrible bedfellow what with all your jittering and giggling,” he said.
“Stop tickling me.”
“Not tickling. Learning.”
Violet pressed her lips together, amused and confused at the same time. “Learning?”
“You,” Kaz said, his voice thick with sleep. “I’m learning you.”
Oh.
She hadn’t expected him to say that. Suddenly, the exploration of his fingers on her skin as they laid close to one another under sheets in the dark didn’t feel quite the same as it had. The ticklish sensations gave way to a much more contented, deep-thrumming need with every slide and caress of his fingers.
She stopped moving.
Her giggles ceased.
Tilting her head up, Violet found Kaz with his eyes closed and a lax, lazy smile curving his lips upwards at the edge. He looked so relaxed, like there was no other place he wanted to be right then.
“Better,” he whispered. “Sleep.”
Violet knew it would probably be a good idea to go home right then, and not wait until morning when she was more likely to be caught in Little Odessa—never mind with Kaz. But strangely, she didn’t want to say a thing, and she really didn’t want to move an inch. She liked the feeling of his arm resting over her side, his fingers grazing her skin, and the comforting familiarity that was seeping into her consciousness the longer she spent time with Kaz.
Somehow, a simple hookup had turned into them tangled up close to one another in his bed, and what should have been over as quickly as it started, was looking like it would end up continuing well into the morning.
Violet still didn’t care.
She let his wandering fingers soothe her to sleep.
Violet liked the sun. It was hot and bright and pretty. Her father liked to say that she was a lot like the sun—lighting up people’s days. She didn’t understand what he meant.
He also said she asked a lot of questions.
She didn’t think she asked a lot of questions.
When the sun was out, she could play all day and never get cold, wet, or sad. She couldn’t be sad when the sun was high and shining down.
Lifting her head up and closing her eyes, Violet felt the sun warm her cheeks. She knew it wouldn’t be very long before the cold came, because the leaves were already turning different colors.
Reds. Browns. Yellows. Oranges.
All sorts of colors.