14. PAUL
“Now, we fuck shit up.”
The bewildered look on Sarah’s face has me bent over laughing, my hands clutching my stomach.
“Excuse me?” She pulls the goggles up on her forehead, pushing her dark hair back, her green princess eyes widening under her long lashes.
God, she’s perfect.
I walk to the closet, reach for the baseball bat, and carry it over my shoulder. I then pick up some clear sugar glass globes from the basket I filled with paint last night and place one on the top of the baseball batting tee.
I hold the baseball bat out for her and say, “Hit it.”
She looks from me to the baseball bat and then back to me again, blinking rapidly. “Hit what?”
Nudging the bat toward her, she hesitantly takes it. “Hit that globe.”
“Why?” She cocks her head to the side, appearing confused.
Sexy, but confused.
“Just trust me,” I respond.
She purses her lips and confidently struts over to the tee like a baseball player up to bat. Lining up her swing, she hits the globe on her first try and is stunned as neon pink paint splatters across the giant easel before us.
Her mouth goes wide, quickly forming into a beautiful smile. “That felt so fucking good.”
I chuckle, pulling out another globe and depositing it on the tee. “It’s called rage painting. Not only do you create something cool in the process, but it also helps with letting off some steam.”
Stepping away, I watch as she swings again, revealing a neon blue color that transforms into purple when blended with the pink paint.
She looks at me with a twinkle in her wide eyes. “I love this!”
“I thought you might.”
After several more hits, she wipes her forearm across her forehead, laughing as she hands me the bat and places a globe on the tee. “This is the most fun I’ve had in so long.”
Lining the bat up, I smack it against the globe and watch as bright splatters of green scatter across the wall.
“Damn.” I hear Sarah mutter and turn around to find her tilting her head, watching me with lustful eyes. “How do you look so hot while also looking like a member of the Ghostbusters team?”
Bending down, giving her a good view, I reach for another ball and place it on the tee. “Baby girl, you should know by now that I make anything look good.” Smack. The bat lands hard across the globe, sending the color black all over the easel.
Handing the bat over to her, I notice her chest heaving hard. Her cheeks are flushed, and her eyes are glossed, giving away desires running rampant within her right now.
My girl is horny.
And I plan on taking care of that.
Discreetly reaching for a brush, I dip it into a nearby jar and turn, facing her back as she lines up to swing. “You got some paint on you.”
She pauses, rotating around to look down at herself, covered in splatters of paint. “What do you mean? There’s paint all over—”
Her words cut off as my brush softly glides across her cheek.
“Oops…” I state, fully knowing this was no accident.
Her mouth parts in shock. Her gloved fingers reach up to wipe off a line of the paint. When she brings her fingers before her eyes, she finds neon pink staring right back at her. Dropping the bat to the ground, she laughs. “You have no idea what you just did.”
“Give me your best.” I wink.
Reaching for a bottle of yellow paint, she quickly uncaps the top. She turns and takes slow, leisurely steps toward me. Her hand extends for my zipper, and I watch in amusement as she slowly begins to unzip my jumpsuit before squirting the yellow mustard color across my white shirt while I make no motion to stop her.
“Oops.” She stands there, batting her thick lashes at me.
Without hesitating, I remove my arms from the jumper and unbutton my shirt, tossing it to the side. When my head swivels toward her, I find her licking her bottom lip, her eyes half-hooded.
“You might want to wipe off the drool on your chin.” My thumb brushes across the corner of her lip.
She sucks in her bottom lip, enjoyment evident on her face, but all of a sudden, she brings a paintbrush to my chest, creating a sizeable green zigzag along my torso, circling both of my nipples.
“Picasso would be proud.” She smirks, placing her hand on her hip, admiring her handiwork.
I shake my head, rubbing the stubble over my face. “Now, you’ve done it.”
In one swift go, I unzip her jumpsuit and tug her body to mine, rubbing the paint onto her as I tightly wrap her in a bear hug.
She squeals, laughter echoing in the room. “You’re getting paint on me!”
“Should have thought about that before you made me your next art project.”
Suddenly, she snakes out of her jumpsuit and gloves, leaving her in just her black dress, now featuring splashes of green paint. She steps away from me with a giant, satisfied grin.
With every step I take toward her, she takes one back until she finds herself backed against the easel.
“Looks like you got yourself trapped, baby girl. What are you going to do about it?” I remove my gloves and place my hands in the paint on the easel beside her head, caging her in. My hardened cock rubs against her stomach, eliciting a whimper between those luscious lips. Her warm, quick breaths caress my skin just below my collarbone as she tilts her face up, meeting my eyes.
“Let’s make art,” she says breathlessly.
And fuck me if those words don’t make me painfully hard.
Grabbing the bottom of her dress, I lift the fabric slowly over her body, admiring every square inch of her that is about to be turned into a palette of infinite colors.
Tossing her dress to the ground, I watch as she confidently removes her bra and then places her hands above her head, waiting for me to take her.
Devour her.
Which is exactly what I do.
Our lips crash as I hold her wrists in place, pressing my body into hers. Our tongues collide, and our bodies mold together, becoming one. Releasing her hands, I grip the back of her thighs, lifting her in my arms and holding her against the canvas as I lower my lips across her jawline, down her neck, and toward her breasts, finding her hardened nipples with my tongue.
“Oh God,” she moans, clutching my shoulders as I twirl my tongue around one nipple before ravenously sucking on it.
My eyes skim over her body, admiring the different paint colors on her porcelain skin.
She begins to grind her pussy against my stomach, searching for the friction she so desperately needs.
“Do you need something?” I ask, amused.
“Touch me,” she begs, panting uncontrollably. “Please.”
Wiping my fingers against the jumpsuit still hanging off my hips, I ensure all of the paint is removed before I bring them between us and glide them across the center of her panties, finding her soaking wet for me.
Her head rolls back, and a beautiful moan surrounds me.
“You’re so wet, baby girl.” I push the fabric to the side, running two fingers back and forth. “So deliciously wet.”
Her fingers fumble with the button and zipper on my pants, not stopping until she reaches inside and takes out what she wants: my hard cock.
“Back pocket,” I tell her.
She quickly reaches behind me, pulls out a condom from my pocket, and then puts it on me at record speed.
Gradually, her hand fists me up and down, making me groan in pleasure as I push two fingers inside her, drawing a sensual moan from between her lips.
The grip she has on me, both literally and figuratively, is irrevocable.
“Please, Paul.” Her eyes pierce mine, begging me to give her what she desires. “I need you.”
I graze my lips across hers. “You beg like such a good girl.” With one of my hands, I grip her wrists, placing both over her head, holding her captive beneath me. She arches her back, pressing her breasts into my chest, rubbing them across my skin, her whole body aching to be touched. “Are you ready to come all over my cock?” I slide my nose across her cheek, a variety of colors spreading over her skin.
The fact that we’re both covered in paint right now ignites a primal need in me to ravage my girl. Hard and fast.
Just the way I know she likes it.
She nods as I remove my fingers from inside her, lining my cock up at her entrance.
“Good.” I thrust inside her, feeling her walls clench instinctively around me. “Fuck, Sarah.”
She moans, tightening her legs around my torso as her head rolls back against the canvas, spreading paint all over her hair.
“More,” she pants.
I start slow at first, giving her body time to adjust, but the second I feel the heels of her feet dig into my ass, I pick up speed, pounding into her like there’s no tomorrow.
“Fuck yes!” she screams.
“You like that baby girl?”
“Yes!”
Keeping one hand under her thigh, I bring my other hand flat on the wall for support as my thrusts become all-consuming, giving her exactly what she needs from me.
She moves her hands to my shoulders, digging her nails into my skin. “Harder,” she begs.
Her whole body begins trembling in my arms, waiting for the final touch to send her over the edge. Gliding my hand down to her pussy, I grind my palm over her clit, rough and fast.
“Paul… I’m going to…”
“Come for me, Sarah.”
She screams my name, gripping onto me as I continue hitting that special spot inside her, watching as she comes undone in my arms. Her hair falls all over her face, her cheeks are flushed and covered in paint, her eyes are glossy and heavy, and paint is smeared all over her beautiful body.
She looks like a goddamn masterpiece.
She looks like mine.
The sight of her does it for me as I thrust one more time inside her, coming apart with her name on my lips.
“Goddamn.” I push her hair away from her face, pressing our foreheads together. Her heaving chest mirrors my own. “That was…”
“Perfect,” she finishes for me.
I smile, watching her lips curve up. “Yeah. Perfect.” Sliding my hand to her cheek, I caress her skin with my thumb. The color green spreads over her, bringing out the intensity of her eyes I love so much.
She bites her lip, peeking down at herself. “I’m a mess.”
“That you are, dirty girl.” I rub my nose against hers. “Good thing there’s a shower here.” My hands cup her ass as I carry her away from the wall toward the bathroom outside of this room.
“Wait!” She shifts in my arms, looking over my shoulder. “We made art.”
Turning around, I observe the image on the canvas we created.
A voluptuous ass print of Sarah’s, in pink, yellow, and orange, takes up the bottom part of the easel. Her back and head are outlined with almost all the colors we used. And my handprints in green and blue are placed on the side of her head.
If this isn’t the most erotic piece of artwork I’ve ever seen, then I don’t know what is.
And I’m already trying to think of where I can hang it where no one else will see it.
“We look good together,” I muse.
She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. If anything, it looks somber, and I’m not sure why. She softly presses her lips against my own. “Thank you for bringing color back into my life.”