I love watching him, the way his body goes taut when my fingertips brush over his skin, the way his eyes seem lit with blue fire when he breaks our kisses. He keepsstopping to look at me, as if he can’t believe how good this is either. He seems to be as amazed as I am. I love how his dark lashes sweep down when he’s almost overwhelmed, as if my caress makes him feel vulnerable. I love that I can take him to that place and keep him there, even for a little while. Just being with him and seeing that fills me with such tenderness that my heart squeezes tight. I love how he’s gentle with me even though he’s obviously powerful. The contrast between our bodies delights me. I want to draw him nude.
He urges me to climax twice before he puts on the condom and I help him with it, just to be able to touch him more. I straddle him and he looks up at me, smiling a little, then his eyes blaze as I take him inside me. Smoothly, slowly, as if that’s exactly where he’s destined to be.
I love how huge he is, how right this feels. We just stare at each other for a long moment, savoring. Then I move and Mike inhales sharply. His hands close around my waist and he holds me tight. He moves more and I urge him on until finally he drives so deep that I think I’m going to taste his release. There’s no room in my thoughts to even remember any other lover. My world is all about Mike. I feel captured, claimed – and irresistibly beautiful.
When he comes, his release so powerful that he bares his teeth and arches his back, lifting me off the chaise lounge. His fingers dig into my skin and I watch, knowing he’s the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.
I want to draw him like this. I want to capture this image, so I’ll never lose it.
Then Mike opens his eyes and smiles at me. My heart flutters as he takes my hand in his and kisses my palm. He runs a fingertip down my arm and murmurs my name.
Could this be more perfect?
I slide down to lean on his chest, still straddling him, andkiss him again. Our kiss is slower this time, less urgent, just as hot.
“I think our technique has improved,” I whisper when I can and he chuckles.
“There was nowhere to go but up,” he muses, his hand sweeping down my back.
“Good intentions, though.”
“Horny teenagers.” He spears his fingers into my hair and pulls me down for another searing kiss. “Worked out all right, though.”
We get lost in each other’s eyes again. “No regrets,” I whisper and his eyes go dark.
“Not one.” He pulls me down into an enveloping hug, his hand on my nape, and I nestle against his heat. We’re tangled together on the chaise lounge, not precisely comfortable, but I don’t want to move. The beat of his heart is beneath my ear and his warmth surrounds me.
“I noticed you’ve given up on trucks with stick shifts,” I tease and smile as he chuckles, vibrating beneath me.
“That first night was instructive in terms of their shortfalls.”
I brace myself above him again, letting my fingertips trail over his nipple. I play with it, watching him catch his breath. “So, you’re still making out in your truck?”
He smiles. “Nope.”
“Then why the bench seat?”
“Tomatoes, of course.”
“Are they the answer to every question?”
His brows rise and he looks resigned for a moment. “To most of them anyway.”
“I thought you liked your job.”
He looks at me, his playfulness gone. “I do but it seems like more than a job, sometimes. A lifestyle choice, maybe.”
I smile because I think I’m supposed to, but he doesn’t.
“There are things I like about it and things I don’t. Probably like every other job.” I get a look. “How about the restaurant business?”
“Good and bad,” I have to admit. “I like the café, though.”
“Why? Because it’s a partnership?”
“Yes, but that’s not entirely it. I like not having a late dinner crowd. I like that Merrie can follow her muse, even though that can be dangerous.”
“How so?”
