Chapter 45 Maverick
Chapter forty-five
Maverick
Standing here, our naked bodies pressed against one another, I contemplate leaning in to kiss her like I’m craving to, but the fear of another rejection overwhelms me. She won’t let me kiss her anymore. Almost a fucking year without her mouth truly on mine.
Because of that, I laid it all out for her, making it as clear as possible that I’m doing all I can to make this work and that she is what I want. Yet, I still don’t feel as if I got through to her.
So, without words, I silently challenge her a little more. Leaning down, I dip my hand in the first tray of paint and hold it up to show her.
“Yellow,” I say, inching my hand closer toward her.
“Are you seriously going to put—” I cut her words off with my action as I softly let my hand rest on her shoulder and drag the color down her arm.
Eyes wide in surprise and body slightly tensing, she pulls back a bit, her eyes searching for mine. “Oh fuck, it’s cold,” she says on a small yelp.
“Yellow, for the friendship we’ve managed to build.” I smile as the words leave my mouth. “You’ve become my best friend. The person I run to when shit gets hard and life is too heavy. Having you in my life is like always having a safe place to land.”
A soft smile tugs at her mouth, and I continue, dipping my hand in another tray of paint beside us.
“Orange,” I say, placing my hand on her cheek, slowly trailing the paint across her face and down her neck. “For the life and joy you bring to the world simply by existing in it.”
Our eyes still connected, she lets out a soft moan as my hand travels further down, cupping her breast and flicking her nipple softly.
I watch as her breath becomes heavy, and need floods her eyes.
The moment isn’t just sexual—it’s tender and sensual.
It’s every ounce of what I feel for her coming to the surface.
Watching how her body reacts to my words sets off a fire in my heart, and my breathing begins to match hers, the need to have her filling me, making it impossible to ignore.
I make quick work of rinsing my hands off, drying them, and dipping them both in separate colors before stepping back up to her.
“Green—”
“Mav,” she says, cutting me off, voice breathy and pleading. “Enough with the paint and colors. I need you inside of me.”
I nod, understanding what she wants, but I won’t give it to her. Not yet.
I place my hand on her stomach, letting the paint sit there for a second before speaking, “For the confidence you exude. The way you hold yourself and present yourself with such strength and courage. It’s beautiful.
” I continue trailing my hand downward, making sure to stop right before I reach her center.
Her heavy breaths turn into panting as she clutches onto my shoulders, thrusting her hips forward, begging for me to go lower. I don’t.
“Ugh,” she groans in frustration, her head slightly falling back as I remove my hand.
“Pink. For the love you give so freely.” Placing my hand on her right breast, I massage it firmly, letting it trail upward before stopping over her heart.
She looks at me. Truly sees me. And I can see the love for me there in her eyes.
“You struggle to receive love in return. But you, Izabel Landry, love fiercely. Your heart may be guarded in the shelter you’ve locked it behind, but it’s as pure as they come.
And I want it. I want all of your heart. I want all of you.”
As soon as the last word leaves my mouth, her hands are on my shoulders, pulling my body down onto the canvas with her. She climbs on top of me, straddling me as she leans in close. For a moment, I think she’s going to lean in and kiss me. She hesitates, as if contemplating it.
She doesn’t.
No kiss follows. She pulls back slightly, as if thinking better of it, and reaches between us, grabbing ahold of my cock in her hand, stroking it softly and slowly between our bodies.
I want her mouth on mine. I want to feel that intimate connection with her. It frustrates me that she’s withholding it from me again, and I don’t know why. Baby steps. We’ll get back there.
Disappointment races through me, but I push it down and decide to be present in this moment with her.
I love this woman, with every piece of me, heart and soul. And if this is how I show her that, through sex, then that’s what I’ll do.
After a few moments, she surprises me by releasing my cock from her grasp, leaning over, and dipping her hand in one of the paint trays.
“White,” she announces with a small giggle, appearing a little unsure of herself, which is odd.
She places her paint-covered hand on my chest and spreads it slowly, looking at me from above.
“For how pure you are, Maverick. You’re the most genuine person I’ve ever met.
You bring a sense of peace over me that no one else ever has. ”
Izzy isn’t one for words of affirmation or discussing feelings at all, so her words hold weight with me and my heart swells.
But the moment she stands, the sincerity is overwhelmed with lust, her perfect pussy now on full display for me, and I can’t resist.
“Can I fuck you now?” she asks, voice breathy, still standing above me. Her hand finds her clit and taps it a few times before she begins to rub it in circular motions, pulling a small moan from herself.
Fuck.
I wanted this moment to be strictly sensual and not sexual, but a man can only be so strong. Apparently, I am a very weak man when it comes to her.
Slowly, I begin stroking my cock from base to tip as I watch her play with herself above me. The sight alone has me wanting to come with her name on my lips.
“Fuck me, Izzy,” I say through a groan.
“Mmm,” she moans out. “You want me?”
“So fucking bad,” I pant, desperately needing her wrapped around me.
Her fingers retreat from her clit, and she bends down, hovering directly over where my cock stands at full attention.
“Beg for it,” she demands, staring into my eyes as her pussy’s lips softly graze the head of my dick—teasing me and inviting me in.
I am not too proud to beg, not for her. Hell, I’d fucking crawl to this woman if she asked me to. Shit, even if she told me to. I’m completely at her mercy, especially now. She knows it, and is using it to her full advantage to get what she’s after.
“Please, Izzy,” I say, my voice soft and needy. “Please sink down on me and let that perfect pussy of yours wrap around my cock. I need you,” I plead as my hands wrap around her hips. “Please.”
With a pleased smirk, she does just what I begged for.
“Mmm, such a good boy.” Her words come out choppy, the head of my cock pushing into her as she lowers herself.
“Fuckkk,” I hiss. Praise kink, unlocked. I wasn’t aware I had one of those, but with the words coming from her, I’m also not surprised.
“Good boys get rewards.”
Her hands grip firmly on my chest, fingernails biting into my skin, and she starts grinding her hips in delicious motions that send me into oblivion.
“I love you so fucking much,” I say, groaning.
“I know,” she moans, and that’s all I get.
I know? My heart sinks.
Almost two years exclusively together, and she can’t even say it back to me. That day on the ranch, she admitted she’s in love with me. Since then, I’ve been fucking trying everything to drag the three words out of her.
Before I have time to overthink it, my body betrays me. I’m teetering on the edge of orgasm, so I focus solely on her body— each sway of her hips, the way she feels, how her hair bounces when she moves, and how she’s wrapped tightly around me, gripping my cock with her inner walls.
Before I know it, her legs begin to tremble as she grinds, and I can tell in the desperate way her body moves that she’s close too.
My grasp around her hips tightens, our eyes lock, and I begin thrusting upward, helping her to get closer as I slam into her. The sounds of our bodies against each other fill the air, mixed with her moans and my panting.
And just like that, we both come apart.
Our bodies are both pleased, satisfied, and undone. Yet, as I lay here entirely open to her, my heart knows Izzy will never fully unlock hers for me.
I’m quickly realizing my agreement to wait for her may be for nothing, and the “someday” she promised me may never come.