Chapter 25
Dom
Another night I fell asleep with Riley in my arms. Another night I feel as guilty as it comes and another night I couldn’t seem to keep myself away. She’s the sweetest sin I can’t stop committing.
She usually crashes hard after I make her come undone several times, but now, she’s not here. I check the time on my watch—it’s shy of four in the morning.
Where is she?
I get out of bed, sliding on my now-dry sweatpants, and go on the hunt for her to no avail.
I take a glass of water with me back to the room, ready to put the rest of my clothes on and see if she went for a run this early, when I see it.
A dim light from under the door in the upstairs room.
I walk up the stairs, and when I push the door open, I can't believe my eyes.
The wall once full of different random colors now features a landscape of the ranch, with the fence I was fixing when we first met, a sunrise rising behind it, and a man resting his back on the fence.
Riley’s painting, headphones on, adding three dots on the man’s chest, right above his nipple. In the same spot I have three moles.
I eye the painting again, and I don’t want to sound conceited, but I think she’s painting me.
I step closer to her, careful not to startle her but doing it anyway.
She jumps, dragging the paintbrush over the chest, adding a line as opposed to the careful dots she was adding.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” I say.
Her eyes frantically move from the painting to me, back to the painting.
She clicks a button on her headphones, sliding them off before saying, “You were not supposed to see this.” A red wave washes over her face.
“Is that?” I ask, and she nods.
“Sorry. I should’ve asked permission. But since I met you, I’ve been itching to paint you, and then I couldn’t sleep, and I’ve been restless, so I said fuck it and did it, and now you think I’m a stalker, and you’re never go—”
“Stop,” I say, holding her shoulder again. “I’m flattered. But this is a huge painting. Your sister can’t see this.”
She breathes out. “I know. That's why I’m painting the hat bigger to hide the face. It could be anyone once I cover up your dark as night eyes.”
I don’t even know what to say.
“Do you think I’m weird? I’m sorry if this is weird. I was just inspired.”
How can I think she’s weird? She’s astonishing. I don’t know why she doesn’t give herself credit beyond being here for entertainment. She might think she’s careless, but it’s the opposite. In the middle of her chaos, there’s beauty.
Just like her.
I smile. “You’re so talented, you know that?”
Strawberry red rises up her neck and cheeks, but she doesn’t say anything, so I point to the painting and add, “Um, thank you?”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Just so you know, I’ve painted plenty of people I’ve met before. And now, because you scared me, you’re gonna have a long nipple. How unfortunate.”
I laugh this time, at the ridiculousness of this girl. “I’d take a long nipple any day if it makes you smile like that.”
“I’m not smiling,” she replies.
“Who’s trying to be the grump now?” She shakes her head as I extend my arm. “Come back to bed. You can sleep an extra hour before I have to go.”
I don’t know how I went from I have to stay away to Let’s cuddle for longer before I have to go to work.
She nods. “Let me fix this real quick, I was just kidding about the long nipple either way.” Riley drops her paintbrush on the ground, taking a seat on the wheel stool she was using and removing the paint from the wall with her fingers before wiping them on her thigh.
In careful movements, she continues the same routine before starting to add different shades of brown, white, orange, and tan, using her fingers each time while her body takes the place of a rag. It’s mesmerizing to watch.
She turns my way, smiling knowingly. “Wanna help?” she asks.
“I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
She scoots forward, tapping a small spot behind her on her stool. “I won’t fit there,” I say.
With the widest smile I’ve ever seen, one that feels like the sun on your face after a long winter, she replies, “We can make it fit.”
I snort out a laugh, shaking my head and trying to take the spot she cleared for me.
We don’t fit, but it’s fine. More than fine, actually, when she drags her ass to rest right on my cock.
I don’t know what is it with this woman and not wearing panties under these shirts that swallow half her body up.
A groan passes up the back of my throat, making her giggle as my dick grows hard with her perfect ass on it.
She drops her head back, resting it on my shoulder. “I’m supposed to be painting here, but something’s distracting me,” she adds.
I lower my mouth to the shell of her ear, and in a husky voice, I say, “I can’t help it when you walk around half naked and grind your perfect ass on me like it’s not a big deal.”
She rolls her hips once before sitting up straight and grabbing my hand.
“We need to focus, Dom,” she says, guiding my hand to the half pint paint can, dipping my index and middle fingers three quarters of the way in before dragging them out.
She wipes the excess of paint on her inner thigh, shivering at the contact as my dick twitches in my pants too.
“Do you realize how hard it is to focus on anything but how sexy you are, even when you don’t mean to be?” She has to know what she’s doing.
I can hear the smile in her tone, even if I can’t see her face when she says, “Oh, I mean to. You walk around like sex on legs, and now it’s my time for revenge. You’re in my wheelhouse, sir.”
She guides my hand to the wall, using my fingers to continue fixing the chest. She repeats each movement, taking different colors each time, wiping my fingers on different parts of her legs until she’s breathy and the air between us is charged with pure lust.
“There,” she says. “All fixed.” Riley takes my fingers, this time wiping them on her shirt, before standing and turning around to straddle my legs.
My fingers may be paint free, but hers are definitely not.
She drags two fingers down my chest, adding paint.
“I couldn’t let you go without getting a little dirty. ”
She smiles down at me, her chest rising and falling, mimicking my own, and goddam it, she’s stunning. I want to kick myself for not staying away when I should have, but how can I, when she’s this perfect?
I lower myself, grabbing her with a hand, dipping my other one in one of her paint cans. I don’t even pick what color, just the first one I can find. With the same two fingers she used as paintbrushes, I paint a line across her cheek.
“Now your face matches my chest.”
She gasps. “My legs are already covered in paint, asshole!” she shouts, dipping her hand this time.
I try to keep her away, pushing her slightly back.
She doesn’t let me, tightening her heels behind me, getting closer.
I move my head out of the way, trying to miss the paint, but it’s futile.
It lands right on my cheek as she drags three fingers down my beard.
“Riley,” I grunt.
“Oops, sorry!” She smiles wider. “But here, I can clean it up.” She takes her shirt off, dragging paint onto part of her hair and leaving her naked in my arms. She wipes my cheek with the back of the shirt, but it backfires, and now there’s even more paint.
“Oops,” she says again. I narrow my eyes, grabbing the small can of paint and bringing it up to our level.
“You shouldn’t have done that, not when I can paint your whole body right now, and there’s nothing you could do about it.”
“Oh please, my hands are tied,” she teases.
“You’re such a brat, you know that?”
She sticks her tongue out at me. “What ‘cha gonna do about it?”
I roll us backwards and to the side until we make it to a wall that is not a piece of art. I push her back against it, holding both her hands over her head. We’re already awake—might as well enjoy the moment. “See, here’s the thing though—”
She yelps at my fingers dragging cold paint over her breast, made perfectly to fit in my large hand, and her nipple. I roll it between my thumb and index as I whisper in her ear, “I don’t think you’re ready for what will happen if you keep up with this bratty behavior.” She shivers.
“Is this a threat, Dominic?” My name rolls off her tongue, sweet and sticky as molasses.
I pinch her nipple, drawing a moan from her lips. “A promise.”
She moves her hands, trying to escape my hold but keeping her glacier blues on me. “Too much?” I ask, and she shakes her head.
“Perfect,” she whispers, her breath caressing my lips.
I close the space between us, crashing our lips together while I continue playing with her nipple.
There’s paint between us everywhere—on our cheeks, my beard, our chests, her breasts, her thighs wrapped around my torso, surely on my back too.
I don’t seem to care whatsoever. I want more.
Her pussy is lined up perfectly with me, and if it wasn’t for the fact that the damn condoms are far away, I would be fucking her right here.
“Fuck me,” she whispers as I kiss her jaw, her neck, her throat.
“No condom,” I say.
She shakes her hand, wrapping her legs tighter, searching for friction. “I’m on the pill, and I never fuck without protection.”
The instant jealous rage I feel at the mention of her fucking before startles me. I know I’m not her first, but it doesn’t cease to piss me off anyway.
“Please, just fuck me,” she begs.
I groan. Am I really considering this right now? She rolls her hips again. Fuck, I sure am. “I haven’t been with anyone since my ex-wife, and I got tested after.”
“Then just do it.” She grinds her sex against me, dampening my pants, making me grow harder.
I lift, pulling my sweatpants down in one quick swoop and sitting back down, taking her with me.
She presses herself down on me, slowly, adjusting to my size as she moans a sweet “Yes”.
I thought she was perfect before, but now, feeling her walls—warm and wet—around me, feeling how well she molds to me, it’s beyond that.
I groan in satisfaction, careful not to move to allow her time to relax completely.
It’s not until she starts moving up and down that I do the same.
I let go of her hands, wrapping my arms around her, fingers pressing on her slender back and keeping her closer against my chest. I want no space between us, and I can’t get close enough.
I want her all over me, breathing the same air, exchanging moans and unraveling together.
“Is this okay?” she asks as I stay still and let her take what she wants.
“Perfect,” I rasp, searching her eyes so she can see the sincerity behind them. “Your pussy was made for my cock.” What I really want to tell her is that she was made for me, but I can’t, because she might have been, but we met in the wrong decade.
Maybe in another life.
She gasps, moving again, searching for her high. Riley speeds up, faster, digging her nails into my back. “That’s it, Riley. Take what you need.” She does, faster, deeper, her head falling back as I lick and kiss her throat.
“Dom,” she whispers before dropping her head to my shoulder, her pussy clenching around my cock.
“Give it to me. All of it.” Her hips slow the rhythm, matching her short breaths. When her eyes clash with mine, they’re impossibly crystal blue, glossy and full of lust.
In this moment, I know Riley Banks has me wrapped around her little finger, and there’s not much I wouldn’t give her.
I also realize I’m fucked beyond measure, because this is exactly what shouldn’t have happened.
“Did you come?” she asks, true concern washing over her features.
I chuckle and shake my head. “This wasn’t about me.”
“Oh really? So you’re just here for me to use as my fuck buddy so I can bust one off?”
A rumbly laugh escapes me. “Now that you put it that way, I guess so.” The urge of fucking the word buddy out of her mouth is strong, but she’s right. That’s all we can be.
She traces the back of her fingers down my face until she reaches my neck. “Well then, if that’s the case, then I—” She drags the word out, teasing me. “Would like for you to fill me all the way up with your cum.”
My eyes snap wide open. She never ceases to surprise me.
“You know, since it’s whatever I want and all.”
I pick her up, pushing her against the wall, my cock still buried inside her, and she squeals, smiling and biting her lower lip. I hold her small face in my hands, reveling in the way she feels against them, fragile and precious, demanding to be protected. Cared for. By me.
I crash my lips to hers and drive in deeper. She tries to kiss me back, but she can’t, not when her mouth is stuck letting breathy sounds out. I bring my hand between us, pressing against her clit as she bounces on my cock.
I drive in and out, faster and faster, my balls filling up as she whispers, “You’re gonna make me come again.”
I drop my forehead to hers, not slowing my pace. “I’m right there with you. Come for me, Firefly. Let’s burn together.”
She explodes, and it’s all it takes for me to do the same—bodies slick with sweat and paint as her pussy milks my bare cock, both of us burning high and hot until there’s nothing else to do but to let it rise.
She wraps her hands around my neck, searching my eyes again, and when she finds them, she holds my gaze. “This was—” She doesn’t finish her sentence, unable to continue her train of thought, though she doesn’t have to.
I know it all too well too. “I know,” I say, dropping a kiss on her lips. “Perfect, just like you.”
I walk us out of this room, keeping her wrapped around me like a little piece of Velcro, which makes her chuckle. “You know I can walk, right?”
I hum. “Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. We made a mess, and I’m gonna clean you up.”
She drops her head on my shoulder, letting out a deep breath, kissing my neck and whispering, “I think I’m going to skip my run. This was workout enough.”