Page 147 of Beyond the Stroke

“It’smybrush.” She sighs.

“Not anymore.” Her breath hitches as I sink the handle back inside her. “This one’s mine now.”

Through her haze of lust, Summer arches a brow in challenge. She’s panting as I fuck her with a paintbrush, yet still ready to argue with me. I love it.

I chuckle against her inner thigh before lowering my mouth to flick her clit with my tongue.

I love?—

I don’t finish that thought because if I do, I’ll be in trouble.

From where her pussy is filled with the paintbrush, my gaze moves up Summer’s body to where her breasts are bouncingsoftly with every thrust. Her chest is flush, making her skin glow, her nipples tight and aching. Instinctively, I cup her in my hand and brush my thumb over the sensitive peak.

I can’t take my eyes off her. Her full, parted lips, her ravenous eyes and gorgeously messy hair.

Yeah, she looks perfect, but the fact that she’s letting me have her like this?

You’re already in so much fucking trouble.

“Look at you,” I murmur, stroking her nipple with the same rhythm I’m using between her legs. “Falling apart in my hands.”

She arches into my touch. I know she’s close, so I drop my mouth to her clit and give her the pressure there that she needs.

I watch her brows furrow in concentration, before relaxing as the pleasure flows through her body.

“Ahh,” she cries out. “Rory.Yesss.”

Hearing my name on her lips when she’s coming has my chest swelling with pride.

She lies there, a satisfied grin on her face.

“I can’t believe you just got me off with a paintbrush handle.”

I ease the paintbrush out of her, letting it graze against her inner thigh, which has her squirming.

Staring at the paintbrush handle now covered in Summer’s orgasm, I give it a lick.

“Oh my god. What are you doing?”

“What?” I chuckle. “It’s the same as licking you.”

“Yeah, but now I have the visual of you sucking on a paintbrush handle burned into my brain.”

I like that she’s just as affected as I am.

“I’ll clean it…eventually. Or maybe I’ll leave it just like this so you remember exactly what it did to you.

“Every time you pick it up,” I whisper against her jaw, voice low, “you’ll think about how good it felt when I fucked you with it.”

Her arms wrap around my neck while her legs wrap around my waist. I press her into the futon, loving the feel of our bodies connected.

She sighs dramatically. “I’ll never paint again. I’ll be too distracted.”

“Well at least the brushes won’t go to waste.”

My mouth drops to hers for a sweet kiss. Our kiss goes from slow and languid to burning hot in a matter of seconds.

Finally, I feel the push of her hands on my chest and I lean back, giving her some space. But she doesn’t want space, she wants me on my back.

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