Mr. Heartbreaker: Black Mountain Academy
“Truthfully, Angel. All I want between us is truth. I don’t want lies or secrets that come out later. I don’t care if it hurts, I’d rather have the truth,” I tell her. “Always.”
Violet’s eyes move over my face. Her index finger carefully traces the bruises and cuts on my face as she studies me. Then she stretches and seems to kiss every spot her finger finds. My heart squeezes in my chest. How can a man protect himself in the sight of such sweetness? My hands slide along her back, caressing her and then sliding down to hold the curve of her ass. She is still rocking her hips, gently riding my shaft, without letting me inside. It feels great and I know if it continues that I will be coming soon. There won’t be any way to hold it back.
“Tell me you have a condom in those shorts you took off, Mike,” she says, studying me. I want to tell her to forget it, but the last thing we need is for her to get pregnant right now. First thing on our agenda will be birth control and me getting tests to prove we are both clean, though. Violet won’t only be my first committed relationship… she will be my last.
“In my wallet in the back pocket,” I tell her, clearing my throat.
She stretches to the side, gracefully managing to retrieve the shorts and fish the wallet out. She grabs the condom and drops the wallet and shorts quickly. I watch as she rips the wrapper open with her teeth, our gazes locked.
I lick my lips, my throat dry because this with Violet is different. It’s more. She maneuvers around so easily that it looks like poetry in motion and I understand why she’s such a great dancer. Somehow she’s slipping the condom over my engorged cock with a speed that would make me smile if it wasn’t for the pleasurable hell I’m feeling. Then, her hand is encircling me once again, holding me steady, as she guides me inside.
“Fuck,” I hiss, as I stretch her.
She’s damn tight and moving so slow that it’s torture. She stops and I want to increase the pressure I’ve applied to her hips and push her down, feel her body accept me fully. I don’t do that, though. I can feel why she stopped.
Violet is a virgin.
I wasn’t expecting that. Hunger wars with pride as I realize I will be the first man she lets inside her body.
“You’re mine, Violet,” I tell her. “I swear you are safe with me. I’ll bust my ass to make sure you don’t regret this, baby.”
I’m faltering over my words. They’re not the ones I want to give her, not the ones she deserves, but I’m not a man that’s used to giving those out. I don’t know how to be soft. Right now, I’m about two steps away from going completely caveman and claiming her, dragging her by her hair back to the bedroom and never letting her get away from me.
“I know that,” she says softly, so soft that it sounds like just a breath. Still, the words float around me and before I realize it she’s lowered down completely taking me inside of her body to the hilt. “I love you, Mike,” she cries as I tear through the proof of her virginity.
My heart stops and then starts again. The old world fades, everything that happened ceases to exist for me. There’s only me and Violet from this moment forward and that’s all that matters.
This is forever.
It doesn’t matter we’re young. That we have a hell of a lot to figure out. All that matters is that she belongs to me, and I belong to her.
“I love you, Angel. I love you so fucking much,” I growl, taking her mouth and kissing her as she rides me, driving us both toward climaxes that seem to make time stop. I hold onto her during it all. I listen to her words, her moans, and the raggedness of her breath and I let that center me. It does, because she’s all that matters. The rest is all bullshit.
Later, when we make it back to the bedroom, we make love again, slower this time, but just as sweet. We end it by me reliving my meeting with the man I used to believe was my father and even that doesn’t hurt that bad anymore, because I know that no matter what, I have what really matters in my arms.
Violet.32MikeOne Week LaterI hate Violet working here. I understand her need for independence, but as I watch the dancer now—Ginger—I can do nothing but dread the moment when my woman comes out next. From where I’m at, you can’t tell that’s Aspen from BMA, but Violet gave me that secret a week ago. I don’t really give a flying fuck. I don’t have any dealing with Aspen. Violet and her barely communicate at school. They run in different circles, but mostly Violet is just a woman who is more comfortable by herself. The only person she’s let past her defenses is me—and I’m fucking grateful.