Violet licked her lips and pulled his shaft out from the confines of the material. He closed his eyes when she started stroking him from root to tip, and a tingling sensation slammed into her pussy. “Kiss me, Cain—”
He didn’t let her finish the sentence before his mouth was on hers and his tongue slipped past her lips. His cock felt like it swelled in her grasp. He groaned and jerked his hips forward, and that tingling intensified and speared up to her nipples. He didn’t stop kissing her as he started a slow, steady thrust of his hips. He fucked himself in her hand while he devoured her mouth.
“You’re making this hard to stop, baby.” He moved the hand that wasn’t beside her head lower until he had one aching and full breast in his big palm. It felt so unbelievably good as he moved his fingers over her nipple, not doing anything more than torturously teasing the stiff peak.
“Oh, God.” It was like she could barely get the words out. Yes, this was what pleasure felt like, what it meant to be consumed by it.
****
Touching her was torture, pure, agonizing torture. The way she responded to him had his cock harder than fuck, and he knew that being with her was exactly where he needed to be. Dirty things slammed into his head, images of her beneath him, her smooth, soft skin bared to him, and he grew harder by the second. He wasn’t going to sleep with her right now, not because he didn’t want to, but because he wanted to try to do right by her. He wanted to treat her like the cherished woman she was to him. But just because Cain wasn’t going to sleep with her right now and make her scream out in pleasure, didn’t mean he couldn’t touch her, worship her, and make her feel good. He ran his palm over her cotton-covered nipple, nearly groaning when the little bead tightened further. He took her mouth, worrying that he might be too rough, too demanding, but unable to help himself. She drove him crazy. There had never been another female that had him in knots.
“Cain.” She moaned his name, and her head fell back against the wall. He immediately latched his mouth onto her throat. She tasted sweet, and the flavor bathed his tongue in everything that was Violet. His shaft throbbed behind his pants, demanding to be free. He needed to remind himself that going slow was what he needed to do, was what she needed as well, despite the fact she begged him for more.
“God, baby,” he said. Pushing her would be disastrous, and besides, they had all the time in the world. He had no plans on going anywhere, not when it was clear she was just as into this as he was. “That’s it, baby.” He pressed his erection further into her hand, and they both moaned. He started a slow thrust against her, and loved that her breathing changed in response. “God, baby girl. The things you’re doing to me, making me feel.” If they kept this up he would come in her hand in just a few, short strokes.
Her mouth was by his ear, and she whispered, “It feels so good, Cain. God, it feels so good. I’m so wet.” Violet emphasized the last word. He squeezed her breasts, the mounds soft and giving.
“Yeah, baby.” He moved his hips into her a little harder, and she gripped his bicep. He could see himself sliding his hand up her inner thigh and touching those innocent little panties he knew she wore. He bet they were wet, soaked just for him. If he didn’t control himself he’d push her to the point she’d run from him. “We have to stop.”
“We don’t have to,” she said with amusement in her voice.
He chuckled. “You know what, Violet?” He stared at her face, saw the blush steal over her cheeks, and smiled.
“Yeah?”
“I want everyone to know you’re mine, and that’s another reason I want to stop. Why I have to. And you are mine, baby, okay?”
“Yes, Cain, I’m yours.”
He kissed her again, and rested his hand right over her heart. “I love you.” And God, did he fucking love her, so much that it hurt.
Chapter Twelve
Cain opened the door for Violet, and he loved that she ducked her head and a blush covered her cheeks, as if she were embarrassed. The steakhouse they were at was still in Chatham View, but further out of the main square of town, and closer to the next city over. Country music played overhead, and the lighting was dim. The restaurant was also a tavern and had its own brewing company. The crowd was loud and wild tonight because of a football game on, and although it was a bit much for Cain, when he looked over and saw his woman smiling it was all worth it.
“Good evening. Two?” The hostess was a young girl, probably still in high school, with braces across her front teeth.
“Yeah,” Cain said, then cleared his throat. The waitress averted her eyes from him, and her uneasiness was tangible. It was either the fact he wore his Brothers cut, or the fact he looked uneasy as hell in his skin right now, or maybe because he felt like kicking someone’s ass because he felt that way. But Cain was used to this reaction because his size and overall presence tended to have people keeping the fuck away. And he preferred it that way.