Page 50 of Forgotten Comeback (Parisi Family #5)

Chapter

Forty-Nine

Taylor

“I thought we were furniture shopping,” Gavin taunts, tucking his hands behind his head on the chaise lounge.

“We have to go furniture shopping now, considering you broke the bed frame.” One of the many benefits of a boxer boyfriend: the man’s got stamina for days.

“Excuse me, we broke the bed frame,” he corrects me.

“Fine, we broke the bed frame. Now stop moving; I need practice with a nude model,” I tell him, gliding a piece of charcoal over my sketch pad.

“Can’t help it that you make my dick jump. Maybe don’t wear my shirt next time,” he grumbles.

“As the artist, I don’t need to be nude,” I inform him.

“As the nude model, I say you do,” he counters.

“Uh-huh. Please, I’d love for you to mansplain more of your art theories to me.”

“Sure thing. However big you’re drawing my dick, make it bigger.”

Rolling my eyes with a smile, I finish shading in his tightly cut pubic hair before switching to a new page.

“I’m going to switch over to practicing with monochromatic watercolors.

” I think out loud, getting my supplies set up.

“This will allow me to work fast and with more of a free-form, dreamy sort of look.”

“If you’d come here, I’ll put a dreamy sort of look on that face of yours.” He pats his muscular thighs.

“Gavin, be serious. I need practice before tonight’s party,” I remind him, ignoring the fluttering between my legs.

“Just so happens that I’ll be bartending the party.”

“You’re only my nude model,” I inform him.

“Green still looks good on you.” He makes a kissy-kissy face.

I dip a paintbrush in green and flick it across the room onto his chest. “Lookie there. Green looks good on you too.”

He hops up, and I squeal as I run around my workstation, putting the piece of furniture between us. “You’re not supposed to move!”

Juking right, I go left, but he easily catches me and tosses me over his shoulder as I squeal a laugh. Pressing his hand into the paint tray, he smacks my ass cheek, now with a big green palm print. “I thought that was an invitation for more collaborative art.”

“Uh-huh.” I playfully nip his shoulder where he tattooed my bite mark.

My other ass check gets a wet smack.

He places me ass down on a stretched canvas on the floor, and lifts me like a stamp, both of us examining his handiwork.

“Needs more paint,” I tell him. Moving to my knees, I grab a can of green paint, giving it a fling onto the canvas. “We’ll call this Abstract Expressionism meets Jealousy.”

And since I’m in the perfect position, I lean forward and flick the head of Gavin’s dick with the tip of my tongue. Moving my exploration to his cock ring, I gently pull the barbell between my teeth.

His fingers lace through my hair on a moan. “Sounds like a masterpiece.”

Opening my jaw wide, I take him all the way in my mouth, gagging when he hits the back of my throat.

“Mona Lisa shit,” he mutters, his eyes rolling back in his head.

Smiling around his length, I grab onto the back of his muscular legs with one hand. The other, I grip around the base of his dick as I suck him.

Gavin pulls me off of him, and I look up at him, confused. “Not good?” I run the back of my hand over my mouth.

“Too damn good. But I’m not ready to come yet, not until I get inside you. Face down and ass up. And this time, don’t distract me.”

“Who is distracting whom here?” I tease him.

“You’ve been distracting me since day one,” he admits quietly.

There’s not a submissive bone in my body, and yet with his disarming words reverberating between my legs, I find myself moving into position.

Gavin hums his approval. “I would say good girl, but we both know you’re not. Maybe my bad girl needs backshots.” The head of his dick nudges inside me.

“Yes,” I moan low and slow.

“Doesn’t help that you sound like pure sex with that raspy voice of yours.” Gavin thrusts his hips forward, but not all the way, teasing me.

“More.” I back my ass up, swallowing another inch of him.

“Greedy.” Gavin’s fingers bruise into my hips as he thrusts all the way inside, the jarring action grinding my face into the canvas. “Does my girl like it rough?” His voice is guttural; primal.

“Oh my God, yes. Harder,” I beg, and the filthy sound of Gavin’s balls smacking the underside of my ass fills the studio as he unleashes. I’m so wet it’s dripping down my thighs.

“No man touches you tonight, unless you want more broken noses.” My little feminist heart hates it, while my ovaries vehemently disagree. “You wanna touch another girl, then we’ll talk about it.”

The thought of me fucking another woman while Gavin watches has a full-body shudder ripping through me, my pussy spasming violently around his dick.

He laughs darkly, gripping my hair and yanking my backside flush with the front of his body. “It’ll probably turn me on and piss me the fuck off,” he says on a growl against my ear.

His hand buries in my hair, and I roll my hips in rhythm with his on a moan. I yelp in surprise when his teeth connect with my shoulder, biting down hard. “Oww.”

“Now we’re both marked.” He presses a kiss where he bit me.

“Green looks good on you too,” I tease him with a breathless tone.

“Mmm, but red looks even better on me.” His hand snakes between my breasts, running his fingers through my red pubic hair.

He begins moving his palm back and forth over my pulsating clit.

“Gavin,” I moan. That delicious tug begins deep in my pelvis as my body tingles in anticipation, my pussy clamping on his dick.

“That’s it, baby,” he rasps, moving his palm faster. “Come all over my dick.”

It only takes a few more swipes of his palm before I detonate. A strangled scream fills the studio as the waves of pleasure knock the breath out of me.

“Fuck.” Gavin bands his arm around my limp body, supporting me so I don’t topple over.

He gently guides my upper half down, and that’s where the gentleness ends.

My face is ground into the canvas as he moves his hips fast, fucking me so hard I’ll feel it between my legs for days.

“For such a bad girl, you take my dick so damn good.”

“Mmm,” I moan, my body agreeing with those words with a violent shudder.

“I’m about to come,” he says between thrusts. “Fuck, Taylor.” On a guttural cry, he pulls out, hot spurts of cum hitting my lower back.

“Damn, that’s sexy,” Gavin murmurs, his finger moving in the cum that’s dripping down the curve of my ass. “Don’t even bother putting this painting up for sale. It’s mine.”

I roll over, wiggling my back and ass on the canvas before sitting up and examining the imprint. “This could be interesting if I painted some kind of mythological monster to represent jealousy, and the cum and green paint is being shot out of its mouth.”

“No more work. We’re furniture shopping, remember?” Gavin helps me to my feet, and an uneasy feeling licks at my spine as he helps me gather the brushes. I give them a wash in the sink, that uneasy feeling quickly morphing into fear.

“Let’s go shower,” Gavin suggests, and I nod.

We silently walk upstairs to the bathroom, with him turning on the shower. “What’s wrong?” He watches me.

“Now that I’m inspired again to paint, I’m afraid I’ll lose it if I don’t keep going.” I verbalize the dark elephant that’s in the room with me.

He ushers me into the shower, stepping in behind me. Grabbing my chin, he tilts my head up to his. “You can’t lose what’s your God-given talent.”

“That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” I rise on my tiptoes and press my lips to his in a soft kiss. He doesn’t understand that I lost my creative spark once before, but I desperately cling to his words.

“You wanna get on your knees and tell me that, I can rally for round two,” he says suggestively.

With determination, I fall to my knees, looking up at him. “After this, no more sex. We’re going furniture shopping, dammit.”

Gavin’s head thunks the back of the tile when I swallow his dick, crown to root. “Whatever you say, baby.”

And lucky for him, I’m not a projectile vomiter.