Chapter 4 #3
“I like the way you think.” This time, when she reached for the hem of her dress and tugged it up over her head, he didn’t protest. Instead, he sank to the bed and traced the top edge of her flowered thong with his fingertip, then pressed a kiss to the soft, pale curve of her belly.
Her violet eyes glowed as she raked his curls out of his eyes. He stroked the lace of her matching purple bra. “Did you wear this to coordinate with my exhibit?” he teased.
Her lips quirked. “Maybe.”
“I love that. It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.” He pulled her forward, and she climbed onto the bed to straddle him. It was easy to roll, catch her legs with his and continue the motion until she was stretched out beneath him.
He fell to his side, facing her.
She laughed, sounding breathless. Just wait. He caught her next breath on his lips, taking her scent into his lungs, wine, flowers in her hair, and paint, arousing him on a primal level. He wanted to touch her everywhere, immediately, but he forced himself to take his time.
He explored her spine, stroking down her back to her hip and back up again. His fingers traveled over her ribcage and shoulder, and then down the lean, strong muscles of her arms.
Their lips met and parted, tongues stroking and tangling in a rhythm that made his blood pump. Her hands were busy, too, inching his t-shirt up around his neck. She lifted her head, breaking their kiss, and whipped his shirt off, sending it sailing to the growing pile on the floor.
Her hands moved to the button of his pants, and he shifted out of her grip. “It’s going to be a lot harder to make this a memorable experience if I take off my pants too soon. Humor me.”
She grinned. “You did mention you have plans.” She stretched her arms over her head, laying herself out like a blank canvas, just waiting for his strokes.
“You are so fucking sexy,” he growled.
“You make me feel that way.”
He cupped her jaw and leaned in for a long kiss that ended with him on top of her again, between her legs, searching for the best fit.
She moaned, moving with him. They fit, and it was exhilarating. But every touch felt charged because he had a finite amount of time to enjoy it. Stop thinking about that. Live in the moment.
Because the moment was incredible.
He shifted, burying his face in her hair, now spread out on the pillow.
He memorized the sweet floral scent, tinged with musk.
He dipped to sample her ear lobe, testing it with his tongue.
The salty taste of her skin went straight to his cock, which he kept trying and failing not to grind into whatever part of her was closest.
He nibbled her neck, digging his teeth lightly into the pad of her shoulder before he moved down her body to cup her breasts. Soft, round, her nipples hard peaks under his thumbs.
“Hang on.” She arched, shoving her tits into his face and reaching behind her back.
It was brutal to obey her request to wait when he wanted to yank her bra cups down to get his mouth on her nipples.
Finally, her bra loosened. She shrugged her shoulders, reached between her breasts, and sent her bra flying.
He groaned, staring at the lush curves, her pebbled, pink nipples so close to his mouth, waiting for her permission to continue. “Still hanging on,” he said tightly.
“Carry on,” she said smugly, settling back.
He latched on to one nipple, getting it good and wet before he replaced his mouth with his thumb and moved to the other one, working them in tandem. Beautiful, sexy—delicious. Her breasts filled his hands and mouth in the most satisfying way. He could play with them for hours, just like this.
Her hips jerked toward him, and he smiled against her, glad he wasn’t the only one aching for more.
“That feels amazing,” she whispered. Her hand covered his, curving around her breast exactly like he’d painted her.
He froze, transfixed.
Slowly, he lifted his weight from her body, moving to kneel between her legs.
He held her gaze as he grasped the strings at her hips and drew her panties down her thighs.
She lifted her hips, raised her knees, and wiggled her feet so he could take them off.
He reached for her hand and pressed it to the apex of her thighs.
He swallowed hard. “Show me how you like to be touched.” His voice was hoarse. “Please.”
She didn’t hesitate, curving her fingers around herself exactly like he had imagined while she was lying on the couch.
But she didn’t stop there.
She parted her delicate folds, revealing the gleam of wetness.
She circled, stroked, and teased, while he watched, open-mouthed, brain on fire, storing every image, as if she understood how starved he was for inspiration like her.
She fired his imagination. Her long legs, splayed, revealing so many secrets.
Then she shifted, sitting up, framing her lush breasts with her arms, offering them to his hungry gaze.
Each pose made him hotter, harder, his imagination soaring while his body ached. He was barely touching her, yet he felt a deep connection. His soul stirred. “Thank you,” he whispered.
He fell forward onto his hands and kissed her lips, then rained kisses on her cheeks, her neck, breasts, belly, and hips, finally settling himself between her thighs and pressing his lips against her in gratitude.
She was soaking wet against his tongue.
All for him.
For Mike, not you, his conscience whispered, but he silenced it by licking straight up her center. He couldn’t hear his stupid conscience when she moaned.
He caught her hands, fisted in the sheets, and held them. Then he traced slow, decadent circles around her clit, gazing up at her over the curves of her belly and breasts. He whispered kisses against her center and watched her neck arch, her head thrash back and forth on the pillow.
I’m going to paint her just like this.
But first, he was going to enjoy every single moment with her—repeatedly.