23. Painting a Picture
23
PAINTING A PICTURE
Gage
I’m a patient man. I’d never take before I gave.
But ever since she sent that first dirty text saying I was on my knees, I’ve pictured her just like this. Looking up at me with those lush red lips parted. With those wide blue eyes gleaming. With my dick on her mind and soon in her mouth.
Her hands tiptoe up my thighs, climbing higher then tapping against the ridge of my erection.
“You gonna tease me? Is that my challenge?” I ask.
“It’s the great blow job challenge, Gage. You interested?”
My gaze strays purposefully to my hard-on. “I’d say so, but why don’t you find out if I’m up for it?”
She smirks, then grabs her purse from the floor. “I think I will. One sec.”
Maybe she’s going to silence her phone? Or check it? I’m antsy as she fishes around in the little bag, then grabs something silvery.
Ohhh.
It’s a tube of bright red lipstick, and she applies it seductively—of fucking course, since she does everything seductively—then smacks her lips.
After she returns the makeup to its home, her fingers dance up to the button on my jeans. She pops it open and slides down the zipper ever so slowly, watching me the whole time with avid eyes.
I haul in a breath.
I’ve never seen so much desire in someone’s irises. She looks like she’s exactly where she wants to be. It’s a heady thought and it’s scrambling my brain, the idea that she’s this excited to suck me off.
She’s practically bouncing on her knees as she reaches the end of the metal, spreads open my jeans, then leans forward, pressing her nose against the outline of my dick. Her eyes flutter closed as she inhales. My legs shake.
This woman.
I am not strong enough to withstand this blow job, but dear god, I’m willing to try since Elodie’s cuddling my dick. She’s rubbing her cheek against my cotton-covered cock. And all I want to do is say take it out.
But all I want, too, is to enjoy every single goddamn second of what she’s got planned. So I let her lead as she raises her face, her eyes looking glossy already. Then, with the most devilish smile in the history of the world, she peels down my black boxer briefs, inch by inch, and frees my cock.
Her smile doesn’t fade. It grows. Then, she meets my eyes. “Oh yes, I am here for this challenge.”
“Take it, baby. Take it fucking now,” I say, my voice husky, needy.
We move in tandem. As she dips her face toward my aching shaft, I draw another sharp inhale, letting it fuel me. I tangle my fingers through her soft hair, savoring the feel of her strands.
Darting out her tongue, she licks the tip, and I tremble. “Yessss,” I groan.
A smile.
Another lick.
Then, a kiss. Her red lips kiss the head of my dick, and I can’t stand how aroused I am.
“Elodie,” I murmur.
“Yes, Gage,” she whispers against me, then licks a long, luxurious stripe down my shaft, then back up, drawing me in past her cherry-red lips.
I don’t even know what I want to say. Except…“Don’t stop.”
“Never,” she says, then sucks me a little deeper, and everything in me snaps, crackles, pops. My cells are like a shaken soda bottle. My fingers thread around more strands as I stare wantonly at my woman taking me deep.
More, more, more.
My world narrows to a pinprick. To the warm heaven of her mouth. The bright red of her lips stretched wide around me. The feel of her tongue sliding along my dick.
And the sounds of her. Soft sighs, heated murmurs, hungry moans.
Then my own noises. Groans and grunts as she licks and sucks. As she wraps a hand around the base, her other palm bracing on my thigh. Pressing hard against me for balance as she hoovers my dick, working me over, driving me absolutely fucking wild.
Wave after wave of lust pounds through my body. Mercilessly.
“This what you pictured?” I grit out.
She raises her face but doesn’t stop sucking, doesn’t stop gripping.
“That night? In your bed? When you texted me?” I ask again, my voice urgent, my nerves fraying.
She nods, then lets go. “Yes…” She tilts her head. “But also no.”
My brow knits as she takes me fully in hand, stroking my length hard, rough.
“No?” I ask. What the fuck does she mean?
But wondering is difficult as she’s gripping my hungry cock. As she’s holding on to my thigh. As I’m roping a hand through her hair.
“I did picture this…” She takes me back between those beautiful lips, and I sigh happily as my dick disappears down her throat once more.
I can’t look away. The view is magnificent. I’m amped up from the sight of this goddess in her dress, on her knees, savoring every second. I can barely think about how she hasn’t finished her sentence. I’m just staring savagely at her sucking and smiling. My bones shake.
“Fuck, it’s so fucking good,” I rasp out without thinking. “Let me fuck you, baby,” I beg, getting lost in the pleasure. “Let me fuck you on my desk, against the wall, anywhere.”
She drops me once more, tilts her head, slides that talented hand quick, quick, quick along my shaft, then says, “I pictured you coming on my face.”
And it’s a damn good thing she didn’t listen to my pleas for her pussy. Because I’m not going to last. I’m seconds away from shooting as she swallows me whole once more.
She’s too good to me. Too sexy. Too perfect.
“God, yes, fucking yes,” I say on a pump.
Then, remembering that a man should always listen to a woman, I somehow, some way, find the will to pull out, wrapping a fist around my throbbing cock and aiming.
She gasps in excitement. “Yes,” she moans, inviting me to come on her face as she parts her lips and sticks out her tongue.
And like that, I paint her mouth white. My vision blurs, my brain going offline as I come on the woman I just can’t have.
It lasts for ages and it’s not nearly enough.
And I’m keenly aware of the ticking clock, of the responsibilities we both have, of my employees beyond the door, cleaning up.
But after she grabs a tissue from my desk and wipes her face, I lift her up, set her on my desk, and tell her to lean back.
She complies as I get in the chair and return the favor. It doesn’t take her long at all. Soon, she’s where I want her. Hands wrapped around my head, thighs gripping my face, whimpering and holding back her cries as she clenches and comes.
A few minutes later, we leave. I’m both sated and completely unsatisfied.
* * *
The next morning, as I fumble around for a coffee mug in the cupboard, the black box of chocolates from The Chocolate Connoisseur catches my eye.
That’s right. Last week, I tucked them away in the cupboard. But now I return to Sebastian’s invitation to try the autumn-themed bonbons.
Taking them out of the cabinet, I set them on the counter. As I brew the coffee, I open them. Study each one.
The raspberry is a rich red color. The caramel is a bright gold like fall leaves. The dark chocolate enrobed in a royal shade of burgundy. Then, as I take the first sip of coffee, I get on Elodie’s website and click on her gift boxes.
I grit my teeth.
His are identical. The same flavors and colors as hers.