Page 17 of A Virgo's Muse
I pulled off my shirt then the rest of my clothes, laying them neatly beside hers. I grabbed the remote off the speaker and hit play on the playlist Sade put together. That girl had a mouth, but she knew how to set a damn mood. The first notes of some R&B artist filled the studio, soft drums and sultry vocals melting into the air like honey on heat.
Desire let out the smallest laugh. “You really asked Sade to make the playlist?”
I stepped closer, brushing her curls back gently. “That girl can talk up a storm, but she got taste.”
She rolled her eyes, but the smile she gave me... That shit made me want to keep her smiling for the rest of her life.
I dipped my fingers into the warm gold paint first then stroked a line down her collarbone. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t move.
“You trust me?” I asked.
“Yeah.” Her voice was small but firm. “I do.”
I kissed her shoulder then painted a soft trail down her arm. She watched me, studying every move like she wanted to memorize the feeling.
The tension between us wasn’t just sexual; it was spiritual. Everything we’d been through this past month led us here. I’d seen her vulnerable. She’d cried in my arms and told me about the fire, her parents, the fear of losing everything she worked so hard for. I’d promised her she’d never have to carry that alone again. I meant that shit.
Every time I showed up to her studio, dropped off new brushes, or filled her vases with fresh flowers, it wasn’t just about helping her create; it was about watching her heal. And now? Now, I wanted to worship the woman who’d made me feel again.
I dipped into a deep plum paint next, smearing it gently across her stomach, then tracing along her hip.
Desire giggled. “That tickles.”
I grinned. “Good.”
She dipped her hands into teal next, bold as ever, then pressed both palms against my chest. The warmth of her touch mixed with the cool paint made me exhale hard.
“Your turn,” she said, eyes glowing.
She ran her fingers over my abs slowly and intentionally then over the ink on my ribs.
“You ever think about getting rid of any of these?” she asked, lightly outlining one of my older tattoos.
“Nah. Even the ones I got when I ain’t know better, they still tell my story.”
She nodded. “I wanna know it all one day.”
“You will.” I paused. “But just know… I got a few chapters I don’t read out loud.”
Her eyes met mine, unflinching. “I’ll still listen.”
That’s when I kissed her. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to.
I grabbed her waist and pulled her into me. My lips crashed into hers like I needed to taste the gratitude she didn’t know how to say. She kissed me back harder, nails dragging down my chest, smearing the paint between us.
We stumbled to the tarp, laughing between kisses. I dropped to my knees, looking up at her like a damn prayer. I painted her thighs and kissed the inside of them, too, like I was marking her with more than just color.
“You’re mine,” I whispered against her skin.
She looked down, breath shaky. “Yeah?”
“I won’t stop until you know it in your bones.”
She sat on my lap next, dipping her fingers into copper and trailing them up my shoulders and over my jaw. I let her paint me, let her take control for a second. Then I flipped her gently onto her back, hovering over her.
“Now, let me do what I came here to do,” I whispered.
“What’s that?”
