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“We’re doingus,” he replies fast, no hesitation to it. I have no idea what he means by that, but somehow I feel more relaxed.
Still…I’m afraid. What am I doing with someone like Blake? I always thought that I’d end up with a run-of-the-mill guy, someone that would be nice to me, treat me right, and…I don’t know! I expected average, but instead I got Blake.
Can I trust him? Can I allow myself to open up around him? I want to say no, especially after what happened between Dale and me. I don’t know if I’m ready to trust again, to surrender myself to someone…but it’s Blake we’re talking about, the man that cut through all the bullshit and saw the real me.
There’s a painting to prove it.
“You okay?” He asks me softly, placing his index finger under my chin and gently making me to look up and into his eyes.
I don’t even bother with a reply. I just give him a quick nod and reach for him, grabbing him by the scruff of his shirt and pulling him into me, my mouth hungrily looking for his. We lock lips then, and all thoughts of distrust and fear are carried away by the passion of his embrace.
Before I know it, dinner has been forgotten. We’re both standing now, his hands on my waist and my breasts pressed against his chest.
“I need you so fucking much,” he tells me, stopping our kiss just to tell me that.
“I’m right here,” I whisper back at him, and he just responds by my picking me up, his strong arms behind my knees. I lace my arms around his neck and look into his eyes, running one hand through his hair as I try to read whatever’s on his mind.
What did he see in me the first time? Why did he come after me? The scary thing is, if I want to see through his eyes, all I have to do is look at that painting.
It portrays me, yes, but it also portrays the way he sees the world.
Carrying me in his arms, he takes me to the living room. Laying me down on his luxurious leather couch, he climbs on top of me and crushes my mouth with his. I kiss him eagerly, pushing my tongue inside his mouth, and surrender to the desire making my heart beating rapidly.
How did I end up here? Not long ago my life had a perfect trajectory – there was Dale, and there was a plan. Next thing I know my boyfriend is fucking some random woman, and I’m back to being single.
Then Blake shows up, and the Earth jumps out from its axis.
“I want you,” I tell Blake, and then nibble at his lower lip, smiling shyly as he takes me in his embrace.
“Not as much as I want you.” He says, smiling back at me and running his large hands down the side of my body. “I’m desperate for you, for your body,” he whispers, and my heart almost explodes with the sudden desire and joy that floods my mind.
I don’t know if it’s his tone of voice, or his choice of words, but I feel my pussy growing wetter and wetter.
He kisses me hungrily again, sliding one hand under the hemline of my dress. His fingertips go straight to my inner thighs, and then he traces the contour of my drenched thong. I can almost feel the coiled tension that fills his muscles, desire making his heart beat faster.
Completely out of control, I take my hand to his crotch and, feeling him hard and ready, I curl my fingers around his cock and give it a squeeze.
“Is this for me?” I ask him, tightening the grip of my fingers.
“All yours,” he replies, one hand of his pulling down the straps of my dress. He bares my black bra and, hooking one finger on the right cup, he pulls it down to reveal one hard rosy tip.
I swallow hard the anticipation I’m feeling, and he dives into me as if he needed to feel my body in order to survive. I close my eyes as he wraps his lips around my hard nipple, sucking it into his mouth while he uses his tongue to circle it.
I run my hands through his hair, disheveling it, and he uses his teeth to pull on my nipple. Gasping, I let him do it, and I start swaying my hips from side to side, trying to make him place the hand he has between my thighs on my pussy.
And that’s exactly what he does – the moment I start to squirm, he makes me stop by flattening the palm of his hand against my aching pussy, pinning me down against the couch.
“But I want this in return,” he says, flicking my thong to the side and brushing two fingers over my folds. I chomp on my lower lip as he does it, anxious to feel him inside of me.
“It’s all yours…” I tell him, thrusting against his hand. “All yours…”
“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”
With that, he slides his middle finger inside of me, taking it straight to my G-spot. Holding his fingertip there, he uses his free hand to tug on the front of my dress and pulls it down until it’s bunched up around my waist. His hand then goes to my back and, when he finds the clasp of my bra, he pulls it free - grabbing the strap right between my breasts, he pulls on it harshly and the bra comes off with a tearing sound.
Smiling, I crush my lips on his. Pressing both my hands on his chest, I place my fingers on the collar of his shirt and then just pull on it, making all the buttons pop out. They scatter around the floor with apop-popsound, and I continue what I’m doing, pushing his shirt down his arms.
I take one second to marvel at the perfect muscles of his chest, all of them so ripped and toned that Blake could be a model and not a painter, and then I take my mouth to his nipple.
