Page 33 of Painted in Love

Though her body was deliciously sated, Saskia wanted more. She popped his shirt buttons free one by one until he took over and ripped the whole thing off, buttons flying across the polished concrete. He wore no undershirt, his chest sculpted and begging for her fingers to play in the soft whorls of hair.

When she tweaked his nipples, he groaned. “Do that again and I’ll lose it right now. You had me so close to the edge, I almost came in my pants.”

She reached between his legs, cupped his hardness. “We wouldn’t want to waste this until you’re inside.” She squeezed him, loving the growl that slipped from his lips. Loving that she could do this to him.

She didn’t wait for him to undress her, shimmying away and yanking the sweater over her head, baring her breasts in the see-through lace bra. For the first time ever, she wished she was bigger, yet the way he looked at her, his eyes hungry, made her feel she was perfect for him.

Then a memory of Hugo assaulted her. When she’d started to bring in money, he’d encouraged her to get a boob job. She should have known then she’d never be good enough for him.

Damn Hugo for getting in the way. She tossed him out of her mind like an overused paper bag she’d crumpled in her fist. Take that, Hugo.

Clay reached out as if she were a goddess he would never cease worshipping. Taking her breast in his hand, he flicked his thumb over the tight bead, and Saskia groaned.

She needed him so badly. Now. Scrambling away, she toed off her boots, and eyes on him, she snapped the front clasp of her bra, throwing it aside, then shimmied her leggings down, her panties going with them.

Naked before him, she drank in the fire in his eyes as it turned into a conflagration. He swung to his feet, kicked off his shoes, shoved his pants down his legs. Until he, too, was gloriously naked.

He was all sinewy muscle, sculpted chest, and hard male. Her mouth watered to taste him. Her body wept to have him inside her. “Sofa, floor, or bed?”

He rushed her then, grabbed her up in his muscled arms, and strode toward the bedroom. “Everywhere. Over and over. But first the bed.”

She locked her ankles behind his back, his hardness riding her core. Then he fell with her onto the bed, not even throwing the covers aside.

“I need to taste you,” he whispered and kissed his way down, down, down, until he was kneeling on the floor, his head between her legs, his tongue playing over her most sensitive parts.

She arched into him, and he added his fingers, gliding in, out, over that sweet spot. Her tremors came all over again, fast, hard. Fisting her hands in the comforter, she exploded wildly against him, rocking, rolling, taking everything she could from him.

Sensation shot her to the stratosphere where nothing existed but his mouth on her, his fingers inside her, and the climax roaring through her.

When she subsided on the bed, lifting only her head to look at him, his hot blue eyes and his luscious dark hair were the only things she could see. He laughed gently and caressed her with his tongue once more, the aftershocks still shooting through her body. Until finally he sat back and licked his lips, tasting her.

Nothing had ever been more seductive.

She lay on the bed, unable to move. He rose, walked backward to the side table, and pulled out a pack of condoms.

“I don’t want you to think I keep an endless supply here.” A sheepish grin creased his mouth. “But after last night, I knew I had to find you. I bought them so I wouldn’t be caught flat-footed again.”

She laughed, sweetness bubbling up inside her. “If you hadn’t done that, I would have sent you to the living room for my bag to get the packet I bought today.”

They smiled together, the unspoken knowledge between them that they would come together again. It was inevitable. Even predestined.

She rolled and crawled across the bed, throwing aside the extra pillows and pulling the covers to the bottom. “Do you want to ride?” she whispered seductively. “Or shall I?”

Chapter Eleven

His mind reeled at the knowledge she wasn’t afraid to say anything to him. He loved that she gave him choices.

Then he climbed between her legs, pulling her thighs over his, as he sat back on his haunches. “First, I’ll ride.”

“I like that.” Her eyes glittered, and he wanted to fall into her seductive smile.

Rolling on the condom, he sat for a moment, hard and high between her legs, his heart beating fast at the gorgeous sight.

Then he entered her. Slowly. She closed her eyes, groaned, and he loved the look of pure satisfaction on her face. He didn’t thrust deep, but rocked gently, playing that hot button between her legs as he moved. Grabbing the brass rails of the headboard, she arched and wrapped her legs around him, trying to take him deeper. He resisted, sliding over her G-spot, relishing the tight grip of her body.

She moaned, opened her eyes to look at him. “Oh God, Clay. Please. More.”

He shook his head. “I want you to be coming hard when I drive deep inside you.”

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