The soft fabric slides smoothly over my skin, catching on my hips. I wiggle to get it off, self-conscious about the extra jiggle my donut habit has contributed to my figure. My dress lands in a pool around my feet, before I pick it up and drape it over the couch. I’m acutely aware of his eyes following me as I move.
“Much better.” His voice is oddly breathless and his—oh God, he’s getting hard. His cock lengthens and makes its presence known, tenting his tight, black boxer briefs.
I snatch up my roller, holding it like a sword between us as he takes a step towards me. “Hey, I only agreed to take my dress off. We have an office to paint. It was the practical choice.”
He doesn’t stop. “A little paint never hurt anyone.” With a grin, he wraps his fingers around my wrist, pushing the roller up and out of the way. “It’ll get done... eventually.”
I back up, but my arm hits wet sticky paint on the wall behind me and I realize he has me trapped. I can’t lie. I do want this, but it makes me nervous. He makes me nervous.
Declan moves until he’s so close his bare torso brushes against my breasts. He puts a red-stained finger under my chin and angles my head up. I have to lean towards him just to keep my hair from getting stuck in the paint. He’s right there, lips so close it would only take the smallest movement to bring us together.
He kisses me, and I forget all about the paint. He presses closer, the hardness in his briefs a burning brand against my stomach. A low needy sound rumbles in his chest, and he grabs the back of my head, crushing me to him, his other hand slapping against the wall behind me for support.
The roller drops from my fingers, leaving a red streak across his thigh. Reaching up, my fingers twine into his unruly hair, gripping it and pulling him closer while our lips press against each other.
I walk him backwards, away from the wall, and his hands trail down my sides until they slide around the curves of my ass. I can only imagine the burgundy streaks they must be leaving in their wake. His strong fingers dig into my flesh and I grind against him, my underwear growing wet and sticky, but not from the paint.
I gasp into his mouth as our bodies meld. A moment ago I was nervous about my lack of clothes. Now it feels like we’re both wearing way too much.
My hand cups his bulge. “These are very nice briefs.” My words come out as a whisper.
He laughs softly, then answers teasingly, “Yeah? Do you think something might happen to them?”
“It would be a shame.” I slide a finger into the slit at the front, making him hiss with pleasure as I stroke him skin to skin.
We’re both going to be covered in streaks of paint, but I don’t care. There’s something primal about visually leaving my mark on him, and knowing he’s claimed me right back. Like he’s reading my mind, he paints a stripe around my throat, collaring me in red. Marking me as his.
A quick movement and he wraps a fist firmly around my hair and tugs, making me gasp. He leans back in, and when his lips touch mine, I meet his questing tongue with my own. My bra goes slack as he unlatches it, pushing my straps down one side at a time
He pulls away, and my arms relax, letting him take my bra with him. Standing there topless, I feel awkward again. I raise an arm to cover myself up, reaching for him with the other so he’s too close to see me on display. The lights are too bright, and my breasts are too soft, and—
“Fuck, you’re sexy.” He breathes the words in reverence, like he’s looking at a masterpiece. He caresses me with his eyes as he looks me up and down. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t remember your own name.” His voice is raw, honest.
I believe him, because I can barely remember it now.
My arms drop to my sides, and I wish I could see myself like he sees me. He’s so perfect, and I’m so... me. It doesn’t seem fair.
Lifting his gaze, his stormy blue eyes lock with mine. They draw me in, like inescapable whirlpools. He smirks, then hooks his thumbs in his briefs. His huge cock is so hard he has to adjust himself to get the underwear past, but then he pulls them off and stands in front of me completely naked.
Suddenly, his eyes aren’t the only thing I find inescapable. My mouth goes dry, all the moisture apparently moving south.
“Eyes up here, babe.” He laughs.
I ignore him, licking my lips and taking a step closer. He looks hard as steel, the tip just barely glistening. I want to taste him. The last time, he took charge. This time, I want to run the show. My smirk isn’t nearly as well practiced as his, but I give him one anyway before I step forward and shove him back with both hands.
He stumbles backwards with a chuckle, letting me push him right up to the wall. The paint’s fresh behind him, payback being a bitch. He obviously doesn’t care, grinning like he just won the lottery as I sink to my knees in front of him.