45. Something Spectacular #2
I felt my eyes start to tear up at the admission, but I let out a slow breath as I reached for the blue paint he’d picked.
Squeezing out thick lines of paint along each of my fingers and around my palm, I set my hand firmly over his heart, pressing down I could pull away, leaving a messy handprint behind.
He said nothing as I continued down his side, along his biceps and forearms, across his hip.
Blue paint slathered in messy, smeared handprints against his tan skin.
I leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss just above where the first handprint went, and his paint-soaked hand came up to cup my chin, lifting to meet his gaze.
“I love you, Ivy. I loved you when you stood in my doorway explaining to me what a Kindle was. I loved you when you spun around the dance floor screaming the lyrics to “Cowboy Take Me Away”. I loved you when you sat next to me in that park and talked to my son. I loved you when you sent me videos of him playing, your voice screaming in the background as he scored. I love you when your nose scrunches when someone says something is spicy and it ends up just being seasoned with pepper. And I loved you as you sat on my porch and talked to me about our favorite colors. The color that never changes from pink, while mine changes to match your outfits every day.”
My breath caught at his admission.
“Your favorite color changes with my outfit?” I asked quietly. He nodded, and I forced my mind to think back to the times I’d asked. Lilac. Pink. Yellow. Gray. All colors I’d worn.
“You don’t have to say anything back, but—” he began, but I shook my head, my paint-covered hand covering his mouth.
“I love you, Oliver Carragan. I loved you when you carried me off that dance floor. I loved you when you protected me from my idiot ex. I loved you when you gave me that incredible birthday gift. I loved you when you watched Sunny score that goal. I loved you when you showed me my very own library. I loved you when you protected me, worshipped me, and savored me as if I were the best and only thing you’ve ever wanted. ”
My hand fell from his mouth and down to his collarbone, the paint smearing with it, but he didn’t seem to mind as he leaned down and kissed me, our mouths melding in a mix of paint and the taste that was all him—mint and cinnamon and that woodsy scent that made Oliver Oliver.
My lips parted for him as his hands slid into my hair.
Everything began and ended with him, and as he slowly lowered us down onto the paint-smeared paper, my world felt complete.
My back met the piles of paint, my hair fanning out below us as his hands ran over my hips and across my navel.
“One day, my baby will be here,” he whispered as his lips kissed above my belly button and down my thigh. “Spread for me, baby doll. Let me get you ready for me.”
I didn’t tell him that he could have me right now as is and I’d be ready for him.
No, instead I spread my thighs, paint sliding with my feet as he settled himself between my thighs, his tongue running through my heat with not a moment wasted, as if he couldn’t hold himself back another moment either.
As if he needed me as much as I needed him right now. Needed this moment to be complete.
“Oliver, please,” I pleaded as he circled up and around my clit.
He reached up, his damp fingers circling around one nipple as he started sucking on my clit, the fervor in his actions clear.
“Oliver!” I hollered as my core tightened and I reached that peak effortlessly.
He kissed back up my body, paying no mind to the paint as he went, his hands everywhere at once as my body hummed in the aftereffects of him.
My legs wrapped around his waist once he was back kissing my neck. I used his distraction to my advantage, flipping us to the other side of the canvas, only now I was on top, sitting up and enjoying my view staring down into those blue eyes I loved so much.
He smirked, his hands settling on my hips. “This is a view I could get used to, baby doll.”
I returned the sentiment. The smirk turned into a soft smile, one that reached those blue eyes as they creased in the corners.
Pink and blue paint splattered along his jaw and down his neck.
Smeared kisses and handprints down his collarbone and across his chest. He was a vision of masculinity, and he was mine.
I arched my hips, the movement rubbing my wet cunt against his cock. His fingers dug into my hips, and he didn’t waste another moment before lifting me up just enough for his length to line up perfectly as I seated myself firmly atop him. He filled me as he always did, perfectly and completely.
My head dropped back with a groan, and my eyes fluttered closed as I began grinding against him, the slow and jerky movements matching the raw and unfiltered moment this felt like.
“Eyes on me, Ivy,” he growled from below me, and I couldn’t stop myself from following his command, the eye contact sending heat up my spine as my movements quickened and his hands squeezed along my hips, urging me on even as my thighs burned and sweat beaded my brow.
His hands moved around to my lower back as he sat up, the movement somehow pushing him even deeper.
One hand stayed on my back as the other moved into the nape of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair as he pulled my mouth to his in a quick and messy kiss, all tongue and teeth, our breath commingling, our bodies moving together.
“I love you, and you’re mine,” I found myself whispering, the words everything I needed to say over and over again as my arms wrapped around his neck and he smiled.
“I love you, and you’ve never stopped being mine,” he whispered in return.
The words were a culmination of things I needed to hear, and as that spine-tingling feeling hit once more and we came together, I knew right there in that forest, this was where I was always meant to be.