He still wanted to go out on a date with her? Confused, she wet her lips. “Sure.”
It must have been her imagination, because she swore his pupils dilated as he focused on her mouth. His voice was certainly deeper as he said, “Though you look delicious in that sweater, I’m going to take you shopping for a dress more appropriate for what I have planned for you.”
She frowned and tried to tug her hand away again. “I have my own money, you don’t—”
He tugged her closer until their bodies were separated by only the smallest of distances. She could actually feel the heat radiating off him and his cologne, sharp and masculine, filled her nose. “Please let me do this for you. I grew up dirt poor and always wished I could buy nice things for my mom and my sisters. I enjoy being able to spoil beautiful women.”
When he put it like that, how could she say anything but, “Okay.”
Chapter Six
All the blood in Morgan’s body seemed to rush to his cock when Violet came out of the dressing room in the gown he had asked her to try on. Champagne-gold chiffon fell in a graceful wash of fabric around her full hips and his mouth watered at the way the top of the dress mounded her generous breasts together. The golden color brought out the deep auburn tones in her hair and it flowed down her back like a waterfall of burning embers.
She was walking sex, though she didn’t seem to be aware of it.
Fisting her hands at her sides, she darted a glance up at him then back down at the floor. The matronly store clerk beamed at her as Morgan tried to get his vocal chords to work. She was such a delicious blend of sass and softness. Her vulnerability tugged at every Dom instinct he had and he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and show her how beautiful she was. But they hadn’t reached that point…yet.
“You look amazing,” he growled and cleared his throat.
She laced her hands together in front of her and lifted her chin to meet his eyes. “Thank you.” Her natural voice was low and husky and he couldn’t wait to hear her call his name as she screamed her orgasm. A soft blush warmed her cheeks and he delighted in the effect he had on her.
It had been hard to pull her out of her shell at first. Only after asking her to try on increasingly hideous dresses had he finally been able to get her to look him in the eye and stand up for herself. While he liked submissive in the bedroom, he didn’t want a doormat of a woman. The fact that she only let him push her so far pleased him and he admired her all the more. Beneath all that softness she had some untapped strength that he wanted to help her explore.
“We’ll take it.”
“Excellent.” The clerk beamed at him and snipped off the price tag with a small pair of scissors. She kept Violet from seeing the price with a deft move and Morgan was thankful. Despite what Carlos had told him about Violet liking luxury, she had been highly uncomfortable while looking at the dresses. He had to turn on the charm and work at making her relax, but he didn’t miss how he physically affected her. When he had brushed aside a stray lock of her hair her cheeks had turned pink with a blush and her lips had softened as if for a kiss. It took all of his willpower not to pull her behind the rack of gowns and make her burn.
He stood and tugged his jacket down to hide his erection. Violet must have noticed because her full lips parted and she took in a quick breath. Her reaction pleased him and he held out his arm to her. “Shall we?”
She hesitated, then slipped her hand inside his elbow. “Where are we going?”
“To the opera at the Fox Theater.”
* * * * *
Violet slid into the waiting limousine, very aware of the envious looks of the women they passed and surprised by the appreciative glances she was receiving from the men. It had to be the gown, it was so beautiful and so beyond her budget. She internally winced at the thought of how much it cost, but the memory of the way Morgan’s eyes lit up when he saw her helped ease the guilt at such an extravagant purchase.
While they shopped he had talked about growing up in the ghetto of Detroit to a mother without an education and too many mouths to feed. Her heart had ached for him as he joked about having to wear two different shoes to football practice and how his coach had bought him the first brand new pair of sneakers he had ever owned in his entire life. When he mentioned his football scholarship playing for the University of Michigan she wondered if he knew her older sister, Penny, who had been a cheerleader for the team. It was hard to judge how old he was and she didn’t want to offend him by asking. She also didn’t want to bring up her gorgeous, vivacious sister who had a taste for football players before she married. The last thing she wanted to hear was that he had dated Penny.
He was so not what she expected. A barbarian with the manners of a prince. As she scooted over to make room for him, he pulled her closer until they rested hip to hip. Nerves had her fiddling with the soft falls of the dress more than necessary. He was so big and alive, it was impossible not to be aware of the heat of his body pressed to hers.
“So, uh, why did you sign up for the dating service? Women have to be throwing themselves at you everywhere you go.” She winced and avoided his gaze. Way to go, nice job of reminding him that he could be with any number of elegant women instead of you.
He pulled her hand into his and she couldn’t help but notice how he kept touching her. Not that she minded in the least. Heady arousal zinged through her body with every brush of his fingers. “I wanted to find someone I could be myself with. Someone I could talk to and not have to stick to the topics of celebrity gossip and tiny dogs that some women seem to change out like purses.”
She blinked at him in surprise. “Oh.” The streetlights illuminated his face briefly and she was struck by the hunger in his gaze. That unnerved her and she tried to fill the silence. “I have a dog, he’s a big, fat lab named Adam. The only kind of accessory he could be is a steamer trunk.”
He laughed softly, and somehow even that sound tightened her nipples. A memory of his picture in the BDSM book seared through her mind and she licked her suddenly dry lips. He leaned closer, the heat of his body warming her skin as he said, “Violet, I’m going to kiss you now.”
Her heart slammed in her chest as he cupped her face in his hands. The way he studied her and slowly closed the distance between them had her trembling. He was so intense, so focused on her. When his lips pressed against hers a soft moan worked its way out of her throat and her pussy tightened. Strong and gentle, he kissed her as if he had all the time in the world. His thumbs stroked the side of her face and she relaxed into his touch, even as her body grew swollen with desire. He tasted like mint and his lips were so warm against hers.
And then he showed her why he was a Dom.
He opened her lips with his own and she trembled. The ruthless sweep of his tongue stroked against hers, demanding a response. She raised a tentative hand and stroked the side of his face. His kiss turned savage and she welcomed his strength. The car slowed to a stop and he broke the kiss, keeping his mouth right next to hers as he said, “Violet, I want you to do something for me.”
The brush of his lips against hers had her leaning in for another kiss. He made a low growl and gave her what she wanted, what she needed. As the car started to move again she trailed her fingers down the side of his face to his neck where his pulse pounded in a strong rhythm.
“Violet?” he asked with a soft chuckle.
“Hmmm?” She tried to pull him back in for another kiss but he smiled and held her back.
“I want you to wear something for me.”
His words penetrated the fog of lust surrounding her mind and she scolded herself for acting like a hussy. She practically threw herself on him, and to make it worse she had just had amazing sex the night before with a different man who she was still totally interested in seeing again. Here she was, kissing another man after spending last night with Carlos. Not at all what a proper woman would do. Her mother would be appalled. She flinched away from him and tried to look over his
shoulder rather than into his eyes.
“What was that thought?”
She avoided his gaze and lowered her hand from his neck. “Aren’t I already wearing something for you?”
His hazel eyes examined her and she felt as if he could see right through her lie. After a tense moment, he opened the small bar on the side of the limo and pulled out a narrow black box from within. Her heart raced as she took the box with numb fingers and stared at it. Guilt pinged through her as she clutched it and remembered her joy at receiving Carlos’s gift earlier today.
“I would like you to wear this for me.”
She fumbled with the box and would have dropped it if it wasn’t on her lap already. Relief mixed with excitement and brought her breath out in a rush. Instead of jewelry, a small silver sex toy that she was intimately familiar with made her clit swell in anticipation. It was a long and narrow curved vibrator with a little black box with buttons next to it.
His hands stroked against her wrist as she stared at it and her nipples drew to aching points. “It’s remote-controlled. The vibrations are almost inaudible. I’d like you to wear it for me while we’re at the opera.”
Her jaw dropped as she stared at him. He took out the little black box and grinned at her with wicked delight. Instead of slipping the remote into his pocket, he pressed it into her palm. “You will be in control of how much stimulation you’re receiving.” He cupped her neck with his hand, his thumb stroking her collarbone. “But, if you would like to give me the controller at any point I promise you it will be worth it. Will you do this for me, my Violet?”
The dark tone of his words raced through her blood like a drug and she nodded at him. He took the box out of her unresisting hands and slowly gathered up her dress, lifting it up her legs. In the dim interior of the limo she hoped that he couldn’t see the dimples in her thighs, or the way she shook. None of that really seemed to matter when his finger stroked over her soaking-wet panties.
“So warm.” He used the tip of his fingernail to trace the outline of her clit. “Fantastic.”
She arched into his hand, the leather of the seat creaking as her body pleaded with him. He leaned back against the side of the limo and crossed his arms, his face unreadable in the shadows. Her heart raced in her chest as she slid over her panties just enough to slip the cool metal between the wet lips of her labia then pulled them back in place. The way the vibrator curved made it fit perfectly against her, pressing down on her clit. Even without it being on she shifted her hips at the pleasurable pressure. His fingers twitched and she felt a warm flair of satisfaction at the knowledge that she was affecting him.
“Thank you.” He glanced out the window behind him and turned back with a smile. “Almost there. I hope you like The Marriage of Figaro.”
She desperately wished she had paid more attention during her high school music appreciation class. Her tastes tended to run more toward hard rock and pop. The soft gown fluttered back into place around her legs as she tugged it down. “To be honest, I’ve never been to an opera before. The only time I’ve been to the Fox has been for concerts and once to see The Nutcracker with my mom when I was a little girl.”
He frowned and shifted in his seat. Anger tightened his jaw but his gaze wasn’t focused on her. “You don’t like the opera?”
Great, here he was going to an obvious effort to make her happy and she sounded like an ungrateful bitch. “Oh no, I didn’t mean that. It’s just that I’ve never been to one before. I guess I’m more of a jeans and a beer kinda girl.” She cleared her throat and tried to think of something to say that would displace the sudden chill in the car. “I-I’m sorry. I really am excited to go to the opera with you.”
Miserable, she turned away from him as the limo shifted into park and the driver came around to their door. The red and gold lights of the Fox Theater gleamed beyond the darkness of the tinted windows and elegant couples strolled beneath the 1920’s marquee.
“Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry that I misjudged you.” He trailed a finger over her wrist and her body relaxed even if her mind was still yelling at her for messing this up. “Would it make you feel any better to know this is my first opera too? That I wouldn’t know who Figaro is even if I met him on the street and he was wearing a name tag?” He ran his hand through his hair, forgetting that it was still tied back and messed it up. “I wanted to impress you so I did an internet search about the opera this afternoon. It’s actually a really cool story.”
A giggle bubbled up in her throat and she leaned over, tugging at the black leather hair tie. Unable to help herself, she ran her fingers through his hair. Thick and soft, it felt wonderful and his rumbling growl tightened her nipples into hard points. His enthusiasm shone from his eyes and she realized that this was a man who led his life with gusto and she wished she had even a tiny portion of his confidence. “What’s it about?”
“It’s about a wedding, but not really. It’s more about a fickle count who wants a girl that he can’t have. At the center of the story is a woman named Susanna who two men want but only one man will have.” A dark look passed over his face and he pulled her against him, giving her a searing kiss that left her dizzy.
Before she could second-guess herself, she pressed the tiny remote control for the vibrator into his hand. “Then let’s make this more interesting for both of us.”
* * * * *
Later that night Violet was extremely thankful that the seat next to hers was empty. They sat in the front row of the balcony and the opera was into its third act. Below, the villagers were singing a song to the count, proclaiming his greatness for not enforcing the old pagan rule about having sex with his servant’s intended bride. She would have been laughing at the count’s obvious anger, if not for the subtle buzzing between her thighs.
Well-crafted, the vibrator made no discernable noise as it brought her closer to the edge of orgasm. Morgan kept his eyes on the opera, but he stroked the palm of her hand with his fingertips, his lips twitching into a smile as she startled when he ramped the speed up. If they had been anywhere else she would have been on her hands and knees by now, begging him to let her come.
Her whole body ached with the need for release and her clenching thighs did nothing to relieve her discomfort. He would bring her to the edge and keep her dancing there, trembling with the effort to not moan. Every once in a while he would lean over and whisper her a compliment on her control, praising her for following his command to not come until he gave her permission.
The absolute power that he had over her pleasure added a delicious layer of spice, as did the knowledge that the rest of the world had no idea about the wicked games he was playing with her. The vibrator stopped all together and her breath came out in a low moan of need. Morgan cleared his throat and she hungrily eyed the bulge of his hard cock pressing against his gray pants. His fingertips traced a circle on her palm and it felt as if he had a direct line to her clit. Every slow circle had her shifting until she wanted to scream.
She leaned over and whispered into his ear, “I hurt.” The ache between her legs bordered on pain and her hypersensitive pussy was swollen and pounding.
Concern filled his voice as he said, “Good hurt or bad hurt?”
She paused, trying to honestly answer his question. “Good and bad. It’s…too good if that makes any sense.”
Without another word he pulled her to her feet. As they made their way down the stairs he called for the limo to meet them out front. The lovely tenor of a man’s voice echoed in the lobby even through the closed doors of the theater. For a moment she regretted leaving the magical darkness where he had tormented her with such skill, but a more animalistic side of her nature had surfaced and it demanded satisfaction.
They waited at the front doors, neither saying a word as they watched each other. His eyes were dark with desire and flicked from her breasts to her face. She could feel the scrape of the cloth against her chest and knew without looking down that her nipples stood out like penc
il erasers. Her panties were soaked and moisture coated her inner thighs, cooled by the occasional draft coming from the crack between the doors and up her dress.
When the sleek black limo pulled up, Morgan didn’t even wait for the driver to open the door. Tugging her after him, he pulled her into the limo and immediately onto his lap. They both scrambled to pull the layers of her dress up, revealing her thighs glistening with her cream. She quickly removed the vibe and he took it from her hand. With his eyes on her, he licked her moisture from the warm metal with his very talented tongue. Excitement and anticipation made her feel alive and very needy for his touch.
“Please,” she whispered and tugged at his pants.
He put the vibrator in his jacket pocket. “No.”
She almost started to cry and he laughed softly, slipping the straps of her gown over her shoulders. The air hitting her nipples had her moaning an instant before his teeth closed on one rigid peak and he sucked hard. Now she did cry out, burying her hands in his hair and holding him to her chest. With his free hand he tore at her panties, sliding them down her legs and over her high heels.
In a state of arousal beyond embarrassment, she spread her legs wide and offered herself to him. With his teeth on her nipple, his hand cupping her pussy and pressing down, she gripped his shoulders as her orgasm finally broke free. The world went blank, becoming only waves of pleasure.
“That’s it,” he growled and plunged one finger into her wet heat. The intrusion gave her body something to grab on to and she thrust herself on him. Her hips jerked against him as she rode the long, slow waves of her release, each contraction gripping his finger within her.
His breath came out hot against her neck as he bit her pulse with a sharp sting. She moaned and titled her hips, taking his finger as deep as she could. More, she wanted more. Usually after an orgasm, it took her a good hour or so to become aroused again, but her body slipped right back into a heightened state of need with an ease that astonished her.
Blushing Violet Page 7
