I reach around and pull her toward me, my palms flattened against her flat belly as I press my lips against her smooth back. I bury my face in the top of her butt, the soft rounded flesh against my face. Her feminine scent fills my nose and I breathe deeply, soaking her in.
“Pax,” she whispers.
“Do you want me to stop?” I ask quietly and everything in me is praying that she says no.
“No,” she answers, and I breathe again. “I like your hands on me.”
Her voice is quiet and soft and I close my eyes.
As I slide my hands around to her hips, I can feel her pulse in my fingertips. I glance around and find my handprints on her abdomen.
“I’ve imprinted on you,” I tell her, laughing softly. “You’re mine now.”
And it’s true. She’s mine now. She might not know it yet, but it is true.
She swallows hard. I can hear her moist tongue in her mouth and I wish it was in mine. She twists around and her eyes meet mine. I drag my fingers up to her neck, holding her chin as I bring my lips to hers.
Slowly.
Painfully slow.
Her lips are warm and soft and she crushes them harder against me, turning until she’s pressed against me, na**d and pliable. And I get my wish. Her tongue plunges into my mouth, quiet and needy.
She melts into me and I press my palms against her back, dragging her to my chest, holding her there tightly.
She moans and my dick is wedged against her, hot and hard.
Fuck.
I hadn’t counted on this. I’m going to need a very cold shower. But it isn’t over. Not yet. I’ve got her here, na**d and in front of me. I can’t let this opportunity pass by. I want her to realize that she wants me too.
I slide my hands down, down… until they reach the softness of her thigh. I stroke there, softly, barely touching her until her eyes flutter closed. Her breath is rapid and soft and I smile.
“Do you like this?” I ask quietly. “My form of art?”
She nods. “You’re…very creative.” Her words are a whisper.
I chuckle, then move my hand toward her very center, between her legs. She gasps as I push her legs apart and touch her, as I move circles around her most sensitive part. She leans against me, allowing me to prop her up as I stroke her.
I bend my head and pull her pink nipple into my mouth, sucking the softness in, then letting it slide back out. She tastes as sweet as I thought she would. I knead at her soft skin, inhaling her scent and warmth, all while the fingers of my other hand never stop moving.
She moans and it is almost my undoing. I’ve never wanted anything more than I want to bury myself in her right now. I swallow hard. I can’t. But I can make her want it so much that when it does finally happen, it will be f**king explosive.
I bend her back and follow the contour of her neck with my lips and then I kiss her again, hard and deep as I quicken the movement of my fingers. She’s so f**king wet now and my fingers move fluidly in her, rubbing, stroking, bringing her to the edge.
She whimpers.
“I want you,” she breathes against my lips. “Please. I want you.”
I gulp as hard as I can, willing myself not to cave in.
“Let yourself go,” I tell her. “Right now. I want to feel you come on my fingers, Mila.”
Her eyes pop open and she stares into mine, her eyes filled with unselfconscious wonder, as though no one has ever said that to her. And then I realize it is probably true. I groan and drop my head, kissing her yet again, her tongue sweet against mine. I slide my fingers in and out, quicker, faster, harder and then she gasps, arching against me, crushed against me.
I suck in my breath as I feel her shudder. She comes hard and it is so f**king sexy.
She is damp and shaky and I hold her suspended in front of me, wrapped in my arms, until she finally opens her eyes.
She and I are both covered in paint now and when she pulls away slightly to look up at me, her cheeks are flushed and she looks sheepish. I smile.
“Did you enjoy my art project? I think it was a masterpiece.”
She rolls her eyes and smiles slightly, as she bends to pick up scattered art supplies from the floor. I watch her ass, since she frames it up so perfectly in front of me.
“Why didn’t you f**k me when I asked you to?”
The sound of that word coming from her sweet little mouth surges life back into my dick and she notices. She raises her eyebrows.
I smile.
“Because you’re not ready yet. But you will be. And when you are, it’s going to blow your mind.”
“I have no doubt,” she answers softly as she bends again to pick up the smock that she abandoned. “But that wasn’t fair. You didn’t get anything out of that. I feel bad.”
I stare at her incredulously. Seriously? This little episode is going to fuel my morning shower every morning from now until eternity.
“Trust me,” I tell her. “I got something out of it. Don’t you worry about that.”
She looks at me doubtfully. “I find that hard to believe. But we have a bigger problem. Where does one go in a date after something like that?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. You’re the expert on normal date behavior.”
She grins and blushes. “That wasn’t normal date behavior,” she tells me. “That was extraordinary. Just so you know.”
I grin as she picks up her clothes and turns to me. “I think we need a shower now.”
I grin wider and she blushes again.
“Separately,” she adds quickly. “Or I won’t be able to trust myself.”
I laugh and follow her as she walks from the studio. My eyes are once again focused on her perfect ass.
“Obviously,” I tell her. “You’ve shown that you can’t be trusted to think clearly in these situations.”
She turns and rolls her eyes. “Oh, yes. That was entirely my fault.”
I chuckle. “You were the one who suggested that I paint,” I remind her and she laughs. I decide that her laughter is my new favorite sound in the world.
“True,” she acknowledges. “But that wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.” She glances at me impishly. “It was better.”