Chapter 39
thirty-nine
. . .
RORY
Summer grabs a new paintbrush from its package, then climbs back on my lap and hands it to me. I set it beside my hip on the futon so I can focus on the task at hand—stripping her out of these overalls.
My fingers lift to the metal clasp at the top of her overalls, and slip it free from the button with a soft click, my knuckles grazing against her skin as I lower the strap so it can fall behind her. With my fingertips slowly dancing across her collarbone, I move to the other side and repeat the process. But this time, I hold the bib up while I release the second strap. Finally, my hand releases the bib and it flops forward with a soft rustle, baring Summer completely.
I stare up at her. She’s a fucking vision, overalls pooled around her waist. Hair in a messy bun with pieces falling loose and those adorable glasses.
“Distracted, Flipper?” She smirks.
“Distracted, destroyed—take your pick.”
After coming in my pants last night, there’s no point in playing it cool. Besides, I like telling Summer exactly how much she affects me. I want her to know how badly I want her. How desperate I am for her. She deserves to know.
I watch Summer’s smirk fade into pure desire.
Her skin is smooth and golden. My fingers lift to trace the thin line of paler skin left from the ties of her bikini and Summer lets out a relieved sigh.
I’m dying to see her in her bikini, but my chest swells at the thought that seeing her like this is just for me. This version of Summer is all mine.
With paintbrush in hand, I stroke the bristles under her breast, then move to circle around her nipple. She gasps with pleasure, letting me know how good it feels to be teased.
I sit up, moving Summer to her back. The shift of our positions allows me to pull the material of her overalls past her hips, down her thighs and off her legs. Now she’s naked and staring up at me.
I pick up the paintbrush again and twirl it between my fingers.
“You told me to behave, Wildflower, but when you’re looking at me like that, it’s impossible.” I drag the wooden handle along the inside of her thigh and she gasps.
My eyes find hers to gauge her reaction. There’s surprise there, but also desire. Hunger. Want.
“Do you trust me?” I ask, teasing the paintbrush handle closer to the center of her legs, to where she’s wet for me.
“Yes.” She nods, and knowing my intention, she parts her legs farther in invitation.
My lips drop to the skin above her knee. I can feel them shaking from the tension coiled inside her. I kiss along her sensitive skin until I reach the apex of her thighs.
I can’t resist a taste first, so I tease her open with the end of the paintbrush, then lick through her center.
“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” I groan, knowing I’m already addicted to her taste.
Summer’s hands push through my hair like she’s looking for something to anchor her while her hips grind upwards, searching for more.
So, I give her more.
Slowly, I ease the paintbrush handle inside her, watching her face to gauge her reaction.
As the handle slips inside, Summer’s head falls back, a low moan spilling from her lips. The sight of her sends a sizzle of heat to the top of my cock.
Keep it together, Rory.
I give her another inch and she exhales roughly. Hips shifting as she chases every press and drag of the smooth handle now deep inside her.
The sight of her has me spellbound.
“You should see yourself, Wildflower,” my voice is thick with heat. “Spread out like this, flushed and shaking, dripping all over my brush like you were made for this.”
“It’s my brush.” She sighs.
“Not anymore.” Her breath hitches as I sink the handle back inside her. “This one’s mine now.”
Through her haze of lust, Summer arches a brow in challenge. She’s panting as I fuck her with a paintbrush, yet still ready to argue with me. I love it.
I chuckle against her inner thigh before lowering my mouth to flick her clit with my tongue.
I love?—
I don’t finish that thought because if I do, I’ll be in trouble.
From where her pussy is filled with the paintbrush, my gaze moves up Summer’s body to where her breasts are bouncing softly with every thrust. Her chest is flush, making her skin glow, her nipples tight and aching. Instinctively, I cup her in my hand and brush my thumb over the sensitive peak.
I can’t take my eyes off her. Her full, parted lips, her ravenous eyes and gorgeously messy hair.
Yeah, she looks perfect, but the fact that she’s letting me have her like this?
You’re already in so much fucking trouble.
“Look at you,” I murmur, stroking her nipple with the same rhythm I’m using between her legs. “Falling apart in my hands.”
She arches into my touch. I know she’s close, so I drop my mouth to her clit and give her the pressure there that she needs.
I watch her brows furrow in concentration, before relaxing as the pleasure flows through her body.
“Ahh,” she cries out. “ Rory . Yesss .”
Hearing my name on her lips when she’s coming has my chest swelling with pride.
She lies there, a satisfied grin on her face.
“I can’t believe you just got me off with a paintbrush handle.”
I ease the paintbrush out of her, letting it graze against her inner thigh, which has her squirming.
Staring at the paintbrush handle now covered in Summer’s orgasm, I give it a lick.
“Oh my god. What are you doing?”
“What?” I chuckle. “It’s the same as licking you.”
“Yeah, but now I have the visual of you sucking on a paintbrush handle burned into my brain.”
I like that she’s just as affected as I am.
“I’ll clean it…eventually. Or maybe I’ll leave it just like this so you remember exactly what it did to you.
“Every time you pick it up,” I whisper against her jaw, voice low, “you’ll think about how good it felt when I fucked you with it.”
Her arms wrap around my neck while her legs wrap around my waist. I press her into the futon, loving the feel of our bodies connected.
She sighs dramatically. “I’ll never paint again. I’ll be too distracted.”
“Well at least the brushes won’t go to waste.”
My mouth drops to hers for a sweet kiss. Our kiss goes from slow and languid to burning hot in a matter of seconds.
Finally, I feel the push of her hands on my chest and I lean back, giving her some space. But she doesn’t want space, she wants me on my back.
“My turn.” Summer reaches between us to hook her fingers inside the waistband of my joggers, but then she looks up to find me watching her.
I see the moment her hands fumble with hesitation, like she wants to take control, but she’s not sure she’s allowed to.
Reaching up, I tuck a strand of loose hair behind her ear. “Hey. You don’t have to be careful with me.”
Her eyes search mine before they drop to my lips. I lean forward to cup her face in my hands, then kiss her.
“I want you.” I lift her hand to press a kiss to her palm before placing it against my hammering heart. “So bad, Wildflower. I can’t think straight when you look at me like that.”
Something shifts in her. Like my words soothe away the uncertainty. Her shoulders visibly relax, while her fingers trail down my torso to find themselves at my waistband again.
Keeping my shit together while watching Summer come undone around a paintbrush handle was no small feat. But now, the look she’s giving me as she crawls over me with renewed confidence, tells me I’m fucking done for.
She slides her hand inside my joggers and beneath my boxer briefs. Her hand, soft, yet firm, wraps around my cock.
“I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel.”
My hips lift, chasing her hand, but she pulls back just enough to leave me wanting more.
“I need these off.” She releases me to start pulling at the waistband of my joggers.
I need her hand back on my cock, so I lift my ass and help her tug my joggers and boxer briefs off in one quick motion.
From above me, Summer’s lips curve into a smile, a smug little smile as her nails drag down my thighs.
She shifts, moving to slide between my legs, her mouth following the trail her fingertips have carved out.
The second her mouth is on me, I’m a goner.
I’ve thought about this moment countless times since I met Summer. Since I put a ring on her finger. None of my fantasies have done this moment justice.
She’s so beautiful. All rosy cheeks and wild hair, with the look of fierce devotion in her eyes as her perfect, wet lips surround me so stunningly.
A needy sound, soft and strangled, tears out of me, and my cheeks flush. But I can’t even care. I’m too far gone. Too wound tight from the way she’s touching me, like I’m hers to enjoy. To study. To keep .
“Summer,” I rasp, voice raw and barely tethered. “I—fuck—I’m close already.”
She slows her strokes, but the way her thumb drags across the head of my cock makes my stomach clench. My breathing turns to shallow pants.
I’m hers.
There’s no need to pretend otherwise.
“I thought Olympic swimmers would have more stamina.”
Her hands wrap around my base, pumping me slow and steady.
“Relax,” she coos, and I realize now I’ve married a fucking siren.
I blow out a breath to do what she says.
“Good boy,” she whispers against my skin, her lips parting to suck me back into her mouth.
Those two words do something to me. They unlock a part of me I never knew existed—a part that craves something deeper than just praise for achievements. It’s the desire to be recognized, not for what I’ve accomplished, but for who I am when I’m with her. The man I am when I'm with Summer isn’t the swimmer, the competitor, or the guy everyone expects me to be. With her, I’m just me—vulnerable, exposed, and completely hers. It’s a feeling that digs deeper into my chest, unraveling the walls I’ve built up. I didn’t realize how much I needed this until she gave it to me.
I rock my hips faster, and Summer takes more of me down her throat.
I reach down, fingers threading through her hair, tugging her gently. She looks up at me, eyes heavy with a mix of mischief and something deeper, something tender.
That look alone sends me spiraling toward my orgasm.
“I going to come.” It’s a warning, but Summer doesn’t release me. She sucks me deeper until I explode against her tongue, my cock pulsing deep in her throat.
“Summer…” I murmur, my voice a rasp that barely forms the word. I want more than this, more than just the heat between us, more than what we’ve shared tonight. But I don't know how to say it. Not yet.