Page 53 of The Heart of a Painter (As I Am 1)

But this wasn’tabout me.

Ipaused in wait until her initial tremors soothed. Until she was strong enough to ride my face in any way she pleased, letting my tongue and fingers hit her pleasure centers.

She moaned, whimpered, and begged, the sexiest sounds I’dever heard. Icouldn’tget enough of watching her lose herself, of her soft breasts bouncing above me, the eager look in her eyes. Erin was anymph swaying on me to the most sensuous pace.

Her hips squeezed around me, so tight and on the brink of coming. Isucked her clit between my teeth, and when she released, she shuddered on my face, barely holding herself up anymore. Ilicked her juices, slowing down but not stopping before she was truly done, seeing in her eyes the same gratification Ifelt.

Ioffered her my support as she returned to the bed facing me. When she hugged me, Ipulled her closer, my arm draped over her torso, one of her legs lying on top of mine, her cheek resting on my chest. The low hum she let out when Ikissed her hair tugged at the strings of my heart, and Ilaughed out of the joy it brought me.

“What’sfunny?” She scooted deeper into my embrace, her voice drowsy.

“Not funny, cute.” The remainder of her lavender shampoo scent lingered on her, reaching my nose as Istroked her hair affectionately. “These sounds you make—I’dgo down on you every day to hear them again.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.” Itilted my head to fix my gaze on hers. She had to understand that Icraved her even when we weren’tin the middle of fucking. That Icraved her all the goddamn time. “Anything that would make you happy, Erin, you can count on me to do it.”