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“You choose what you would like to paint. Is it a picture you always wanted to project from your mind to reality, or is it an object in the room you would like to recreate? It could also just be your mood in colors.”
Her eyes darted around the room as if she was looking for inspiration. “You like to draw pictures.”
“I do. Some from my life, others just scenes or places I imagined.”
“I think if I did that, I’d never touch a canvas again.”
“Choose a color you like or one that speaks to you. Add it to your brush and draw the first line.”
She took a deep breath as if he’d given her the hardest task of her life. He watched as she dipped the brush into a dark blue and held it inches away from the canvas. It took her a few moments to take the courage to add the paint to the emptiness before her. He watched as she added stroke after stroke, of mostly dark colors. He hoped that the darkness represented her past rather than her current state, though he didn’t ask.
After a while, with a few empty spots left on the canvas she stepped back. Her muscles were tense, her heartbeat slightly faster than usual. Wanting to ease her apparent stress, he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her shoulders.
“You did wonderful.”
She eased into his embrace and rested her head against his chest. “It looks a mess.”
“I love every stroke of it.”
She set the brush aside and held onto his arms as she studied her own work. “I don’t know.”
“You did good. It takes a lot of courage to put one’s feelings out in the open like this.”
Her heart fluttered slightly at his compliment. “Thank you.”
Then pure instinct took over and he leaned further down to kiss her cheek. Her skin, just like her lips, was soft and warm. Her lungs no longer filled with air as he pressed his lips firmer against her cheek. Only when he released her, did she take a long deep breath.
He wanted more, needed to taste her properly. He laid his hands on her shoulders and turned her around. When she faced him, her eyes reflected his own desire. Cupping her face with both his hands, he leaned down again and pressed his lips to hers. Instantly her peach taste intensified, the heat from her lips flooding his mind.
She reached up and tugged on his neck to pull him closer, her tongue eagerly licking over his lips. He parted them, his tongue meeting hers as she pressed past his teeth. His fangs throbbed, his shaft hardened.
Suddenly, she pulled back, breaking away from him, fighting to catch her breath. “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head and threaded his fingers through her hair. “I need you,” his words more of a plea than an admission as he leaned closer to her.
She leaned into his touch, their lips meeting again. Her heart racing within her chest, her blood started rushing through her veins. Though he would never want to drain her, his fangs throbbed at the thought of pleasing and feeding on her at the same time.
Grabbing her waist, he lifted her up, her legs immediately wrapping around him. He swallowed her moan as she felt his hardness press against her core. Her thighs clenched even tighter, rubbing her center against his length. He placed her on the piano, broke the kiss, and looked down at her trembling body. The urge to please her filled him even stronger than the need to please himself.
Insecurity mixed with her desire, her words a breathless whisper, “We don’t have to do this.”
“Gorgeous Gwendoline,” he hummed, tugging her shirt over her head. “I should’ve given in to you the first time I laid eyes on you.”
He’d suspected she wasn’t wearing anything beneath the shirt, but actually seeing it was jaw dropping. Her breasts were heavy and full, gravity naturally pulling on them. His eyes moved downward, her leggings covering most of her midsection. His hands moved without a thought as he pulled on the fabric, needing to reveal all of her. Leaning back, she placed her hands on the piano and lifted her hips allowing him to expose her. Her thighs were covered in silver lines, her hips wide with the healthy weight she’d gained since her life had stabilized.
His heart stung slightly as his eyes fell on the fading marks on her thighs. Though he knew Silas had taken care of the men and punished them, Amon felt the urge to go back in time and do it all over again.
Running his fingers up and down her side, his dick ached to be within her. He wanted to feel her tight, hot walls clench him as his tip rubbed her.
“Amon…” she pleaded, her body quivering in need, a need he was all too happy to ease.
He pulled the stool closer to sit down, his head between her thighs. “You look beautiful, Gwendoline.”
He drew out her name knowing how much she still enjoyed him calling her anything else but Ms. Moore. Kissing his way up her inner thigh, he traveled to her core. The closer he got, the sweeter her taste. The rosiness only increased, a slightly nervous feeling spread within him. She was his first in many years. Though he’d been a pleasing husband to Marinna, Gwendoline was very different.
Gwendoline interrupted his dark spiraling thoughts, gripping his hair, eager for him to kiss her core. With his fingers he parted her folds and held them apart, his tongue licking her from her entrance up to her clit. A long, loud moan filled the room, much prettier than all others he had the pleasure of hearing.
“I love hearing your pleasure,” he groaned against her hotness, his tongue pressing against her swelling clit.
