Page 30 of Big Gruff Owner

When she finally pulls back, she’s smiling, her cheeks flushed. “You know,” she says, her voice teasing, “I’ve been thinking about doing something special in here.”

“Yeah? What’s that?” I ask, though I have a feeling I know where this is going.

“I’ve been wanting to do a nude,” she says, biting her lip as her eyes drop to my chest. “And I think you’d be the perfect model.”

I chuckle, low and rough. “Is that right? Well, I suppose I could be convinced.”

Sadie grins, stepping back and grabbing a canvas from the shelf. She sets it up on the easel, then looks at me expectantly. “Take off your clothes, Marine.”

There’s something about the way she says it that sends a jolt of heat through me. I don’t hesitate, stripping off my shirt first, then my jeans and boxers. My length springs free, already hard and curving upwards. Her eyes roam over my body, and I see the way her breath quickens, her cheeks reddening.

“Like what you see?” I ask, my voice dropping.

“Always,” she says, her voice breathless.

I smirk, stepping closer to her. “Your turn, little girl.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice. She peels off her shirt, then her pants. Her panties and bra follow quickly after. I can’t resist the urge to touch her, running my hands over her soft skin, and feeling her shiver under my touch.

But she pushes me back, a playful glint in her eye. “Get on the floor,” she orders, and I chuckle, dropping to the ground.

She grabs a brush, dipping it into a pot of dark paint. The moment it touches my skin, it’s like a spark ignites between us. She drags the brush down my chest, her eyes locked on mine, and I feel the heat coil low in my belly. She’s teasing me, her strokes slow and deliberate, the paint cool against my heated skin. The brush continues to dip lower, tracing the ridges of my abs, and I can’t keep still. I shift, a low growl rumbling in my chest, but she only smirks, her eyes glinting with mischief as she continues.

“Stay still,” she whispers, but I can see the way her hands are trembling, the way her breath hitches every time she drags the brush lower.

“Hard to stay still when you’re torturing me like this,” I mutter, my voice rough with want.

She smiles that wicked little smile that drives me crazy and keeps painting. But it’s not long before the brush is forgotten, replaced by her hands, her fingers smearing the paint across my skin. I let her get in a few moments of painting before I can’t take it anymore. I grab her wrists, pulling her down on top of me, and her laughter is swallowed by my mouth as I kiss her, hard and hungry. Her soft moan is swallowed by my kiss, and she melts against me, her body a perfect, pliant contrast to the hard tension in mine.

Rolling us over, I pin her beneath me, pressing her into the floor, my weight holding her down. The sight of her—eyes dark with desire, lips parted and swollen from my kiss—sends a fresh wave of need coursing through me. She’s everything I never thought I’d have, and the thought of her being mine drives me wild.

I dip my head to her neck, tasting her paint-free skin, the salt and sweat mingling with the lingering scent of paint. She gasps, her body arching up into me, and her nails dig into my back, urging me to go further, to give her everything. My hands wander lower, sliding between her fold and finding her hot and ready for me.

She gasps, her hips jerking at the first brush of my fingers. I tease her, sliding just a bit of my digit inside, feeling how wet she is, how desperate she is for more. The way her body responds as she arches and grinds against me, nearly undoes me.

“Please,” she whispers, her voice trembling with a need so raw it takes everything I have not to lose control right there. Then she clenches around my finger.

Yeah, I'm done teasing.

I grip her hips, yanking her down further and positioning myself between her legs. Her thighs part for me, and the sight of her spread open, waiting for me, is almost more than I can handle. I thrust into her in one smooth motion, burying myself deep, and we both groan at the sensation.

She’s tight, her walls clenching around me, drawing me in deeper with every stroke. I start slow, each thrust deep and deliberate, feeling every inch of her, claiming her with each movement. My senses are overwhelmed completely by the feel of her and me coming together as one. The slick slide of our bodies, the sound of her breath hitching with every thrust, the way she clings to me like I’m the only thing keeping her grounded—it’s intoxicating.

Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me closer, urging me on, and I comply, driving into her harder and faster. The room fills with the sounds of our joining. Everything is overwhelmed by the feel of skin against skin; the sounds of the wet slap of flesh meeting flesh mingle with the breathless gasps and moans escaping her lips.

“God, Daddy, yes,” she pants, her voice trembling as I hit just the right spot inside her. I dip my head, nipping at the delicate skin of her throat, sucking a mark into her skin, branding her as mine. Her body tightens around me, and I can feel her getting closer, her nails digging into my shoulders as she holds on for dear life.

I reach between us, my thumb finding that sensitive bundle of nerves at her core, rubbing slow, firm circles. It only takes a few rotations before she shatters, crying out my name as her orgasm rips through her. The way she clenches around me, her entire body trembling beneath mine, pulls me over the edge with her.

I thrust into her one last time, burying myself deep as I come, my body shaking with the force of it. Her name is a growl on my lips as I spill inside her, claiming her in every way that matters.

We stay like that for a long moment, our bodies tangled together, our hearts pounding in sync. The paint is smeared all over us, the colors mixing with the slick of our sweat and arousal, a testament to the intensity of what just happened.

Breathing heavily, I finally roll off of her, but I don’t go far. I pull her close, our bodies still wet and warm, and she snuggles into me, her head resting on my chest. My hand brushes through her hair, pressing a kiss to her temple as she sighs contentedly relaxing against me.

“You’re mine, Sadie,” I murmur, my voice low and possessive, but there’s a tenderness there too, something I’ve only ever felt for her. “Always.”

“Always and forever,” she murmurs. We lay in silence for several moments before she looks up at me with a soft, nervous smile. “I have a surprise for you, too.”

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