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She jumps, and the most stunning of smiles crinkles the corners of her eyes when she sees me.
Jesus, she’s the most incredible thing in this world, and she fucking belongs in this room filled with works of art. She even dared to fall back into copying the works of the greats… just for our eyes this time. Even so, she’s still the most beautiful work of art in this space… in any space.
I take a step into the room, needing to feel her in my arms, like I haven’t had her already this morning, waking her up with my tongue between her sweet thighs.
“No. Stop right there!”
“But I—”
“No, mister. It’s almost finished, but not quite yet.”
I shake my head, but I stop where I am, smiling.
“Then you better move that sweet ass quicker, because we’re gonna be late.”
She’s flushed now, the color on her cheeks prettier than any of the ones in her palette. She starts washing her paintbrushes, cleaning with delicate movements, her eyes flickering at me from under her thick eyebrows.
“Is Aaro still sleeping?”
“Yeah, he’s out. He’ll probably wake up after we leave, but Rosa arrived a couple of hours ago.”
“A couple? My God, I’ve lost track of time. Wait, when do we have to leave?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“Oh shit! I thought—” She throws the paintbrushes down, a couple scattering on the floor, but she waves them off and darts toward the door.
I catch her just before she’s about to rush past me, pressing her against my body and crushing my mouth to hers. She falls into the kiss, moaning into my mouth, and my dick is already half hard.Shit… we’ll never leave this house.
Annika breaks us apart and gently swats my arms away.
“I have to clean up and change. Come on, baby, let me go.”
“Mmm…. Fine,” I concede, place a kiss on her forehead, and release her.
She’s so quick nowadays, since she’s been losing the baby weight. Lucky for me, it’s been a slow and steady process, because I’m kind of missing that thick softness, sinking into her, kneading her flesh… her full hips. I’ve been enjoying her changing body, constantly finding something new to love about her.
I shake my head and pull at the fabric that now grinds tightly against my cock, readjusting and muttering to myself.
“Jesus Christ… that woman’s gonna be the death of me.”
I’m about to turn around and leave, but I spot the brushes she dropped on the floor, and I go to at least pick them up and place them on the table for her.
I tried, I really tried not to look to my left, to the canvas she’s been working on for so long. But the vivid shades of lilac caught my attention, and I couldn’t stop myself.
“Hanna…” I whisper as I look at the woman who’s been gone out of my wife’s life for far too long now. It was a year and two months ago. She’s smiling, dressed in a lilac garment that wraps like a thin veil around her form, looking down at the chubbiest, cutest baby cradled in her arms. My baby… our boy. I could recognize him anywhere. The painting is not finished, but fuck me… the emotion in it is more vivid than the colors that form this image, because its beauty lies well behind this canvas.
It’s perfect…
“Baby?” she calls for me from somewhere in the house. I drop the paintbrushes before she can come and catch me snooping.
Closing the door behind me, I walk through the bright corridor that holds a wall of windows overlooking our wild garden, and head toward the entryway. When I get upstairs, I find her rushing from one side of the bedroom to the other, one shoe in hand, one on her foot, her sundress unzipped at the back, ponytail whipping around in a whirlwind.
“Baby girl, easy… we’ll get there in time.”
“Yes, yes. I couldn’t find the other shoe, but I got it now.”
I can’t help it, and I start laughing when she holds the sandal up, victorious.
