Chapter 32
THE CLAY ELEMENT
Declan
Ginny and I stay at the studio playing with clay for hours after I’ve gotten enough footage and put my phone away.
“That’s it,” she murmurs in my ear as we finish a third mug.
She’s behind me, her hands covering mine, her chin propped on my shoulder, front pressed to my back while she guides my hands.
Verona left us to use her studio as long as we’d like tonight.
I’ve promised to have this Foxy Goes There episode posted within the next few days, and since Ginny’s proven she knows her way around a studio, including cleanup, we’ve been given the trusted green light.
So it’s just the two of us and Flow.
And my raging hard-on.
“Your mom will be proud.” Ginny’s breath tickles my ear and makes me even harder than having her straddling me from behind has. “You made a good mug.”
I swallow. “It needs a handle.”
She kisses my neck. “You can still drink out of it without a handle.”
Flow’s on the ground at our feet. She’s covered in bits of wet clay, but she’s not nearly as messy as I am.
Gray splatters dot my pants and shirt where the apron didn’t cover, and my arms are coated in dried clay water.
Ginny’s too.
She kisses my neck again. “I’m ready to call it a night,” she whispers.
“Sleepy?”
She trails her fingers up my forearms. “No.”
“I like watching you make pottery.” My voice is thick and heavy.
“I like watching you do everything.”
“Ginny—”
“Shh. Not tonight. I know. But not—not tonight.”
Not tonight.
I know.
Don’t remind me this is temporary.
But what if it didn’t have to be temporary?
What if I told Alex? What if Ginny and I found a way to make our lives compatible?
What if—
I suck in a breath as she slides her clay-covered hands down my sides and under my apron to stroke my thighs right at my crotch.
So close to my straining dick, but not touching me there.
“I’m wet,” she whispers. “I want you to touch me.”
I push my stool back, pushing her back too, until I can spin around and capture her lips with mine.
Her soft whimpers as she grips my hair and kisses me back—this.
This is what I want.
Ginny.
Every day.
Every night.
Laughing with her.
Sharing stories.
Making her happy.
Showing her how much I want her.
How much I love her.
Flow sighs loudly beside us, rises, shakes, sending clumps of dried clay against us, and then saunters across the room.
Ginny giggles, still kissing me.
I grip her under her thighs and rise, lifting both of us.
She wraps her legs around my hips, but there are too many layers between us.
My pants. Her dress.
Both of our aprons.
She unties mine as I cross the room to deposit her on the counter beside the sink.
I untie hers and toss it aside, and then I drop to my knees and push her dress up her legs until—
“Fuck me,” I breathe.
She’s not wearing panties.
“Surprise,” she whispers with a cheeky grin. “I was going to come see you after the cheese platter.”
“I don’t want a cheese platter.”
“I want you.”
I push her thighs farther apart, leaning in and inhaling her rich, delicious scent before I bury my face in her pussy, licking and tasting and suckling until her thighs are trembling and her grip on my hair tightens and her moans and whimpers get higher and higher, telling me she’s close.
I nip at her clit, and she comes undone, squeezing my head with her thighs and jerking her pussy against my mouth and panting my name as the taste of her orgasm coats my tongue.
This.
This is what I want every day. Every morning and every night.
Ginny.
Just Ginny.
Her legs fall slack, and she pushes at my pants with her still clay-coated hands. “More,” she gasps.
“Ginny?”
“Want—more—of you. All of you.”
I shove my pants to the floor.
She grabs my bare ass and pulls me against her.
“Condom—” I start.
“Don’t care.” She licks my neck. “Inside me. Now.”
She grips my ass harder, and I’m helpless to resist this woman.
And when I slide inside her, bare skin to bare skin, I lose my breath.
My heart’s already gone. It’s hers.
My body too.
My every thought. My every action. My every breath.
They all belong to this soft-hearted, stronger-than-she-realizes, beautiful-inside-and-out goddess of a woman.
“Ginny,” I grunt, my cock thrusting inside her while she rocks against me.
“More,” she gasps.
As if I could ever deny her anything.
“So—good,” I pant.
Her slick heat, no barriers, no layers between us, nothing but her and me and my raw, unquenchable desire to be everything she could ever want and more.
Consequences be damned.
“Declan, I— Oh, yes, yes, there, I—”
She cuts herself off with a moan as her walls clench and spasm around my cock, sending me over the edge as I spill myself inside of her.
Heart.
Mind.
Body.
Soul.
All of me.
They’re hers.
I can’t walk away.
I can’t leave her.
I have to talk to Alex.
I have to replan my life.
This is my one chance to be everything Ginny deserves.
I won’t fuck it up.
Not this time.