Page 78 of Painted Truths

I throw my head back, arching my body, as he eats me like a man who’s been starved for years, and I’m his first meal.

He pushes my thighs farther apart with his palms until they are flush with the mattress, laying my glistening sex wide open to his ravenous mouth.

Flattening his tongue, he runs it from my opening to my pulsing clit before swirling it around and around in taunting circles, driving me higher and higher.

Pulling back to spread my lips apart, he gently blows a breath along my seam, causing me to jerk wildly. Desperately.

“Such a perfectly pink pussy, Peaches.”

My hips move of their own volition at his praise, seeking more, and Henry is more than willing.

Closing his mouth firmly over my clit while inserting two fingers into my wetness, he sucks sharply, the waves of pleasure almost too much, causing me to jack-knife across the bed.

“Yes. Oh… fuck. Oh, Henry.”

His name is a breathless cry that he’s forcibly wrung from my mouth.

Bending my head forward, my eyes open wide as I take in his coup of my entire body. His stubble scratches against my tender flesh in the most pleasurably painful way, and I can feel my limbs begin to shake as I reach down and tightly fist his hair in my hand, holding him in place as I take over the momentum.

His eyes, which up till now have been closed as though in silent prayer, open, and our gazes clash. His are black pools of liquid desire as he continues to play my body like an instrument.

Our eyes hold each other’s as I see and feel him grind his hardness against the mattress in an attempt to relieve himself. The idea that kissing me intimately like this turns him on so much makes me feel invincible. I’m almost there from the thought alone.

He pushes my dress impossibly higher with his free hand, shoving it underneath the wire on my bra to palm my breast. My nipples are hard as cut diamonds as he grasps one between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it, pinching it. Hard.

I gasp for breath as he thrusts his fingers inside my drenched pussy, sucking on my swollen clit before withdrawing his fingers and replacing them with his tongue.

His tongue fucks me fast and passionately, and I can feel my body reach for the stars just as he grasps my clit between two fingers and pinches before I detonate in his waiting mouth.

Voicing my pleasure for the world to hear, I come so hard I don’t just reach the stars. They explode into a fiery mass all around me, and I don’t think I’ll ever come down.

Just as I begin to descend from my pinnacle, I see Henry has pulled back and is grasping his dick in his right hand, jerking himself off at a frantic speed.

Staring deeply into my hooded eyes with an intensity I can feel in my bones, he owns me as he proclaims gutturally, raggedly, “You. Are. Mine.” Then he leans forward, making the sexiest sounds deep in his throat before coming all over my trembling stomach in thick white ropes.

The hot wetness that hits my belly button and the groans from his mouth send yet another flood of moisture through my core, despite having just come.

His face is contorted beautifully as he unleashes himself, as he coats me in his desire, and I find that all my earlier reticence is long gone in the face of his worship.

Reaching down, I run my fingers through his orgasm in lazy circles while Henry grips my thigh in a knee jerk response to my taunting movements. Then, needing to cite a blatant reaction, I go entirely on instinct.

I dip my cum-covered fingers lower, spreading it through my own wetness while watching, enthralled as I paint myself in Henry, utterly obsessed with owning this. With taking it as far as I possibly can.

With driving him to the point of insanity.

Our gazes are locked on my motions, hypnotised, until I gather our blended offerings on my thumb and bring it up to my parted lips before sucking our combined essences into my waiting mouth.

His jaw ticks, and his nostrils flare as he leans down over me, getting right in my face, our gazes rapt on each other.

“Whatever shall I do with you, Peaches.”

Then he claims my mouth, alongside my heart, in a soul-destroying kiss.

We spend the remainder of the flight wrapped up in each other after Henry cleans us both up gently, so gently, like I’d shatter at any moment.

We land in Miami a little later in the evening, checking into the Fontainebleau, a stunning hotel right on the beach. The suite is just stunning, not that I’d expect anything less of Henry DeMarco and his proclivity for the finer things in life.

It all appears wonderful, but I’m not able to take any of it in. Instead, a potent mixture of sexual exhaustion and jet lag hits me with a bang, even as I try my best to take in my wholly alien surroundings. Contrary to where I’d assumed things were headed, Henry steers me towards the bedroom, where he helps me undress in the most tender and straightforward manner. It makes my heart swell with emotion, and before my head even hits the pillow, I am already fast asleep.