Page 63 of Before I Loved You

Grabbing the bottom of her dress, I lift the fabric slowly over her body, admiring every square inch of her that is about to be turned into a palette of infinite colors.

Tossing her dress to the ground, I watch as she confidently removes her bra and then places her hands above her head, waiting for me to take her.

Devour her.

Which is exactly what I do.

Our lips crash as I hold her wrists in place, pressing my body into hers. Our tongues collide, and our bodies mold together, becoming one. Releasing her hands, I grip the back of her thighs, lifting her in my arms and holding her against the canvas as I lower my lips across her jawline, down her neck, and toward her breasts, finding her hardened nipples with my tongue.

“Oh God,” she moans, clutching my shoulders as I twirl my tongue around one nipple before ravenously sucking on it.

My eyes skim over her body, admiring the different paint colors on her porcelain skin.

She begins to grind her pussy against my stomach, searching for the friction she so desperately needs.

“Do you need something?” I ask, amused.

“Touch me,” she begs, panting uncontrollably. “Please.”

Wiping my fingers against the jumpsuit still hanging off my hips, I ensure all of the paint is removed before I bring them between us and glide them across the center of her panties, finding her soaking wet for me.

Her head rolls back, and a beautiful moan surrounds me.

“You’re so wet, baby girl.” I push the fabric to the side, running two fingers back and forth. “So deliciously wet.”

Her fingers fumble with the button and zipper on my pants, not stopping until she reaches inside and takes out what she wants: my hard cock.

“Back pocket,” I tell her.

She quickly reaches behind me, pulls out a condom from my pocket, and then puts it on me at record speed.

Gradually, her hand fists me up and down, making me groan in pleasure as I push two fingers inside her, drawing a sensual moan from between her lips.

The grip she has on me, both literally and figuratively, is irrevocable.

“Please, Paul.” Her eyes pierce mine, begging me to give her what she desires. “I need you.”

I graze my lips across hers. “You beg like such a good girl.” With one of my hands, I grip her wrists, placing both over her head, holding her captive beneath me. She arches her back, pressing her breasts into my chest, rubbing them across my skin, her whole body aching to be touched. “Are you ready to come all over my cock?” I slide my nose across her cheek, a variety of colors spreading over her skin.

The fact that we’re both covered in paint right now ignites a primal need in me to ravage my girl. Hard and fast.

Just the way I know she likes it.

She nods as I remove my fingers from inside her, lining my cock up at her entrance.

“Good.” I thrust inside her, feeling her walls clench instinctively around me. “Fuck, Sarah.”

She moans, tightening her legs around my torso as her head rolls back against the canvas, spreading paint all over her hair.

“More,” she pants.

I start slow at first, giving her body time to adjust, but the second I feel the heels of her feet dig into my ass, I pick up speed, pounding into her like there’s no tomorrow.

“Fuck yes!” she screams.

“You like that baby girl?”

“Yes!”

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