“I want… I need you to be my everything, Flower…”
I held in a moan as he placed a tender kiss on my lips. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pulled him in closer as my mind buzzed.
I’m not capable of love. My emotions are rather ambiguous, vague.
I’m not capable of love.
I’m not capable of love.
Was Beckham capable of giving me his everything? Was he able to give me what he said he would? Was it all too good to be true? Would I even be able to give him my everything when part of me was still stuck on fixing my marriage? When I couldn’t even come to terms with myself?
Pulling at his hair, I moaned as his hands traveled down my body, squeezing my breasts, gripping my hips, groping my ass, gaining control of my body like he always did. As he placed his hands under my thighs, he picked me up, my breasts against his chest as my nipples swelled in anticipation.
He walked over to the second setup, grabbing the bucket of white paint before he threw a few color splotches on different areas of the black floor canvas. Pulling away, I looked at him in question as his lips found my skin once again. I gasped softly as he walked over to the middle of the canvas, laying me down as a small part of my body touched the paint.
“You’re going to let me have you right now.”
His fingers trailed over the paint, smearing it against my stomach, my hips, claiming every inch.
“You’re going to let me give youeverything,” he purred against my skin.
I couldn’t help but whimper as he placed soft tender kisses against my skin.
“And when we’re done, you’ll see justthe kind of art… the kind ofmasterpieces… we can make when we’re together.”
Chapter thirty-three
Rosenna
Sittinginthebathtub,I flipped to the next page of the novel I was reading as the candles burned. Gavin was staying late at the office tonight, and I was home alone.
It had been a week or two since the rather… interesting session in Beckham’s warehouse. Since then, he’d managed to squeeze in another two sessions before deeming me worthy of a break from him for the last few days, which was much-needed as I needed to get my head on straight.
I had been trying to forget my dinner with Gavin the other night. I had been trying to forget my encounter with Brent at the museum. I had been trying to forget what Beckham had said to me.
I would give you everything, Flower.
I would give you everything, Flower.
I would give you everything.
His words, his actions, his mind games… I was losing my control, and sooner or later, I would need to face this. Sooner or later, the art exhibit would be over with, and sooner or later, I would need to make a decision.Beckham or Gavin.My sanity should be amongst the choices, however I decided that was among the least of my worries currently.
In addition to the men who had absolutely taken over my life, I had been ignoring my father’s calls. He demanded that I talk to him and my mother over dinner, and he demanded that I tell him how I’m doing. I still wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. Unfortunately, he’d just let me know that he knew of my upcoming exhibit and was planning on attending with my mother, and that I would have to meet them for dinner afterward—hence this bath to unwind.
However, with my glass of wine, extremely erotic novel, and memories of Beckham and I still fresh in my mind, I was setting myself up for failure.
Reading between the lines, I bit my lip as my hand slowly trailed down my navel. Leaning my head back, I immediately let out a moan as my fingers found my aching clit.
I want these moments… to fucking fill your head… Know that he’ll never be able to treat you like I would, make you feel like I do, fuck you, or own you like I do.
“Beckham… fuck,” I whispered as I continued reading the dangerous and tempting words that danced along the page. My two fingers found my entrance, and I practically convulsed as I imagined him taking me into his studio... surrounded by his sensual portraits of us and being totally and utterly subjected to his mercy.
My mind suddenly drifted to us in the kitchen… just a few feet away from the patio. Even though we could’ve been caught, all I could think about was his hands on me. His control, his dominance. Then, it shifted to the extremely erotic abstract painting we made using just our bodies and paint.
Dropping the book to the ground, I leaned back in the tub as my eyes rolled back.
I had been trying to forget.
