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"I'll bet I could." Vince groans against my ear as he teases my sex. "Fuck yes, you're soaked."
Two fingers slide across my lower lips. Maternity underwear are hideous and uncomfortable. I've never been more grateful for that fact in my entire life. Being commando is way sexier. Mybreasts heave against Vince's bare chest as my clit grinds over him. Despite the awkward angle and tight fit, he manages to slip one thick digit between my pussy lips.
"Is this okay?" Vince asks, tipping my gaze up to his. I study his face. Stretching against the tight hold he has on my hair, I try to kiss him. "No, answer me."
"Yes," I whimper.
Two things happen simultaneously. Vince's hold on my hair gives a little, allowing my mouth to hungrily attack his, and he slides one finger deep inside me. He continues twisting it in and out. My clit throbs as I get even wetter around his finger.
I grind against him over and over as he fucks my mouth with his tongue.
"Eyes on me when you come," Vince whispers against my lips.
I nod, staring straight into his eyes. His finger curves inside of me, and after a few brushing strokes against my g-spot I totally lose it.
My leg locks down over Vince's hip and I whimper into his mouth.
"Come for me, sweet girl," Vince growls into my neck. My cunt locks down on his finger as I shiver. My eyes try to flutter shut, but the swift tug of Vince's hand in my hair has me staring into his eyes as I fall apart. We share a sloppy and frantic kiss.
I collapse on his shoulder, struggling to catch my breath.
"Damn," Vince says, licking his finger clean. My face flames. "I rescind everything I said last night. Going slow is overrated. I much prefer going at our own pace." He shrugs. "You're just my speed, McKinley."
I chuckle against his chest. "That was terrible. Will you help me up?"
Vince grins down at me. He tips his head, brushing his lips over mine. He scoots off the bed and offers me a hand.
"Good morning," he says, smirking. His eyes are focused over my shoulder.
Jude clears his throat.
"Morning," he says in a low, gravelly tone that sends a shiver down my spine.
Vince pulls me out of bed. His hands cradle my hips. "Is there another shower?"
"In the hall by Dexter's room," I say, biting my lip. "Or you can use this one." I shrug. "I just need it for two minutes."
I turn and head for the bathroom.
Vince grumbles something like, "I'm not going to need it for much longer than that."
I grin the rest of the way into the bathroom.
"What kind of art do you paint?"
"Surrealism and Pop art," I say in answer to Jude's question as I push open the door to my studio. "I used to draw a lot also. I love charcoal, but I'm not the best at it."
All my paintings are exactly where I left them in the climate-controlled studio.
"Is that a monkey opening a door?" Vince asks, heading over to study the canvas.
"Yeah, that's what that is," I say, laughing.
It's a painting of a monkey dressed in a suit, opening a door with a skeleton key while a group of humans sit nude around a bonfire. The monkey looks at them with disdain, and while the humans are dirty and a bit unkempt they're also happy. They are smiling and lively, while the monkey's home is cold and dead.
It's one of my favorites.
"What does it mean?" Jude asks.
