Page 86 of The Painter and His Poet

And fuck, she’s a vision.

She’s desire and sex.

She’s swathes of colour and subtle beauty.

She’s the darkness of sin and licking flames of lust.

She’smine.

Stepping towards her I grip her knees that are pressed together, hiding her pussy from view.

“I thought I told you to spread your legs, Harlow,” I say, and her mouth pops open as I shove her legs apart, my gaze falling to her ripe slit, to the glistening berry red of her pussy, and the bead of wetness that gently slips from her hole and slides over her perineum towards her puckered arse.

“Look at you, dripping for me. Did my fingers fuck you good, Harlow?”

“Yes,” she whimpers as I slide my palms up her inner thighs towards her sex, pressing them against the tendons pulled taut beneath her skin.

“But you still haven’t come,” I mutter, using my thumbs to gently pull apart her outer lips so that I can memorise the form of her pussy, and the slippery wetness that greets me.

“No,” she agrees, her chest heaving.

“What will it take to make you come for me?” I ask, dropping my head closer to her slit, and blowing warm air over her clit.

“Your mouth on me,” she pants, her chin dropping to her chest as she looks down at me.

I look up at her. “And what will I get in return?”

“Anything,anythingyou want.”

“Anything?” I question, my thoughts tumbling back to the night when I slipped into her room and stole an orgasm.

“Anything,” she breathes.

Licking my lips, I drop my gaze back to her pussy as another bead of liquid gathers at her hole, then slowly slips downwards, a glistening trail that I desperately want to chase with my tongue. A zing of pleasure rushes down my spine and gathers in my balls at the thought.

“Then one night when you’ve fallen deep asleep I’m going to creep into your room, and fuck you until you wake up screaming my name,” I promise, and before she can even begin to respond, I bend forward, press the tip of my tongue against her puckered arsehole, collecting the bead of wetness, before sliding my tongue up her slippery slit and sucking her clit into my mouth.

She drags in a startled breath, her hands flying backwards to keep her upright. “Sterling, fuck, that’s… Oh, fuck… that feels so good,” she cries.

“You like that, huh?” I muse, grinning like the fucking cat that got the cream as I return to her arse, rimming her hole.

“No one has ever…” her voice trails off as I slide a finger through her pussy lips, gathering the wetness before using it to lubricate her virgin arse.

She jerks from the slight penetration as I ease the very tip of my finger inside of her. “This tight hole will be mine one day soon. Not tonight, but soon,” I promise before removing my finger, my heart pounding in my chest like a fucking jackhammer as I inhale her scent and try to calm the carnalneed to rip my trousers from my legs, pull her off the piano and impale her on my cock.

“Not yet. Not fucking yet,” I mutter against her skin.

Harlow’s hips jerk, and she whimpers, “Sterling.”

“What Harlow? What do you want?” I ask her.

She moans, mumbling something incoherent.

“Use your words. What do you want?” I growl against her quivering pussy.

“You, Sterling. I want you!”

I lose it.

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