Page 73 of Painting Celia

He really didn’t deserve her kindness after today.

Hell, she was telling him her feelings, all on her own, just to make him feel better.

When he still didn’t respond, Celia shuddered out a breath, gathered her legs under her, and stood.

Leaving?

He raised his head, reaching for her hand. She paled, eyes flying to his fingers grasping hers, then to his face as he stood up slowly. He didn’t let go, his implacable hand gripping hers. No fumbling this time. He stood close, his hand tightening on hers.

“I like you too, Celia,” he said low. “Don’t go.”

Celia’s tentative face slowly eased, lips parted, her breaths shallow. Look at her, every tense line softening, a lovely understanding stealing across her face.

Her face lifted to him, and she met his lips with her own.

The soft touch of her mouth stunned him, finality thudding in his chest. This time he knew he was all in. Andrew could go fuck himself. Celia belonged to him.

His other hand lifted to stroke her hair, tucking it back so he could cup her cheek, holding her face to his as his lips tasted hers for the third time. His thumb stroked her cheekbone, feeling her shiver under the touch.

His blood rushed, but time stood still.

She brought up her own hand, sliding it behind his neck. Her fingers tickled, cool and smooth, brushing softly against his skin. She parted her lips to tentatively touch her tongue to his.

Jesus, why had he fought this?

Tightening his grasp, his mouth moved on her roughly, hungrily, his tongue seeking hers.

•••

Celia reeled, heat radiating through her. He felt so good!

León swayed back just enough to look at her once again. In the low light, his eyes were black with both satisfaction and hunger. His intensity, when focused, hit like a sledgehammer. Celia felt it deep in her chest.

“Reinita,” he murmured.

Oh, did she like that word. It made her smile.

His crooked smile in return stole her breath. He stepped back long enough to tug his shirt over his head.

How could her heart pound even harder?

His shoulders flexed as he tossed his shirt behind him to the floor. She eagerly took in his warm brown arms, the sensitive hands she’d imagined on her. She shivered.

Eyes roaming lower, she saw those loose jeans, the waistband falling a bit too low on his hips.

She swallowed, her skin anticipating his touch. This was happening.

His breaths were quickening, matching hers. He stepped up to her again, slipping two fingers under the blue-green dress at her shoulder, skimming her skin as he traced the wide neckline to find the single button. His fingers tickled the baby hairs at the back of her neck as he undid it, raising delicious goosebumps. Eyes still on hers, he drew the soft fabric toward him, letting it collapse to her waist.

She undid the belt for him.

His fingers stroked delicately down to her collarbone, his eyes darkening when she inhaled sharply. Each touch burned her skin, and she struggled to remain still, just feeling where he would wander next. His hands arrived at the straps of her bra, and he slid them down her arms to expose her to him.

Breath catching, León took each of her breasts in his hands, lifting them slightly with his palms, brushing his thumbs over her nipples, watching them harden. His lips curved, the desire in his eyes melting her. His hands moved lower, eyes following, skimming down her sides to the dress, hanging to her waist.

One hand found hers, and he lifted it in the air, directing her to turn almost like a dance. With her back to him, he unhooked her bra and tossed it into the darkness, then pushed her dress off her hips to the floor. When she started to turn back, he stopped her.

“Wait,” he said, moving closer behind her, face hovering over her shoulder. “Look.”

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