Page 9 of Alive and Kicking
“You like this one?” he asks, watching my face as I look at the painting.
I nod. “I do. It’s so detailed. Feels like I should be able to look away from the canvas and see the rest of the scene around me.”
Zane is grinning with his chest puffed out when I raise my eyes to him. “Do you want it?”
My eyes widen. “Like to keep?”
“Of course. You can have it if you want it.”
I have no control over the smile lifting the corners of my lips. I do want the painting. I have just the place for it in my littleapartment too. “Only if you’re sure. You don’t have to give it to me.”
He picks it up and holds it out to me, and with careful fingers, I accept it. “It’ll get more appreciation with you than it will being buried under my other paintings.”
“Thank you,” I tell him, holding the canvas to my chest before carefully setting it to the side so I don’t damage it by handling it for too long.
He goes back to showing me painting after painting, explaining what he was trying to capture and his process with each one. He hesitates before revealing the next painting in line. It’s one of me, though it’s a little blurry. The painting is of the back of my head with just a sliver of my face. And I can just make out what looks like the top of my car next to me.
“This was the first time I ever saw you.” His voice sounds distant as his fingers run over the sliver of my face in the painting. “I knew the moment I saw you then, that you were the one for me. I’m pretty sure that was the moment I fell in love with you.”
A soft smile curves my lips. “You didn’t even know my name then.”
Zane shrugs. “Doesn’t matter. That was the day I decided you would be my wife.”
I guess I can’t fault Zane for knowing what he wants and believing in it so deeply. I lean my head against his shoulder, loving the tender way he talks about me like I’m precious to him, and his arms immediately wrap around me. Looking up into his blue eyes my breath catches in my chest. The soft way he looks at me will never cease to amaze me.
Slowly, he leans down to press his lips to mine, and I stand on my tiptoes to get even closer to him. My hands gripping the collar of his t-shirt to keep him from pulling away. One of hisarms bands around my waist and his other hand delves into the hair at the nape of my neck.
Zane shifts forward and his knee slides between my thighs, causing tingles to shoot down my spine. The rough fabric of his jeans presses against me. The thin leggings I put on this morning doing very little to stop the friction. A moan tumbles out of my throat when his arm around my waist pulls me tighter against him. “I just love the noises you make,” he groans into our kiss.
I let go of the death grip I have on his collar to push the hem of his shirt up, and let my fingers trail over his abdomen. It’s not enough and he’s too tall for me to pull his shirt off without him helping me. A frustrated rumble leaves me as I pull my hands out of his shirt, and the crisp sound of a blade ripping through fabric makes him pause. Carefully he pulls away from my lips to look down at his newly sliced open shirt, then his eyes trail down to the small knife in my hand.
“How am I supposed to get to the house without a shirt on?” he asks, blinking at me.
I shrug with a pleased smile on my face. “You’re not. Maybe I want to keep you locked away in here where I can have you all to myself.”
His shoulders roll. “Works for me.”
His lips crash back down against mine and then he’s tugging Sloane’s hoodie over my head before dropping it to the floor. My sports bra is next to land on the pile, and I tug Zane down onto the floor with the clothing, making him practically fall on top of me. He trails kisses down my neck and across my collar bone, and when he rolls one of my nipples between his thumb and pointer finger, my back arches. Hitching my leg high on his waist, I thread my fingers through his hair as he takes my other nipple into his mouth. “Fuck Zane. Please just fuck me.”
He nips at my nipple before pulling back to look down at me. My hands run up his chest and over his shoulders to pushthe scraps of his tee shirt off. The angry scars on his left side are stark against his pale skin, but they don’t detract from his overall beauty. I’ll say this a hundred times if I have to, Zane is a beautiful man.
Fingers hook into the waistband of my leggings, and he tugs them down and off in one swift movement. “No panties?” he questions, looking down at my bare pussy.
“I figured Cain can’t steal them if I’m not wearing any.”
A smirk plays at the corners of his lips as my hands go to the button of his jeans. Once I’ve got them undone, I push his jeans and boxers halfway down his butt, needing him inside of me this instant. Grumbles leave me when they’re not as easy to remove as I would like them to be, and Zane’s hand catches my wrist just as I go to slice into his pants with another knife. “I don’t even know where you got that thing, but let’s not use sharp objects near my penis.”
My eyes roll at that. “If I wanted to castrate you, I would have done it already.”
Not giving me the opportunity to prove that, he plucks the knife from my hand and tosses it a few feet away before kicking off his pants and boxers.
Finally, there’s nothing separating us.
Arching my back, I press my breasts against his chest. His hand is soft as it trails down my side, and I squirm, needing his touch in other places. When he just continues his gentle ministrations, I hook my leg around his knees and flip us.
Zane’s eyes widen as he looks up at me from his new position beneath me, his chin tilts back and his jaw tightens as I grind down on his cock. “Fuck.”
I grin at the effect I have on him. Hands grasp my hips as he helps them move faster, and my clit rubs against his shaft, shooting pleasure up and down my spine. The expressions that cross his face are addicting, a mixture of pleasure and anguish.
