She tilts her head to look up at me, a slow smile curving her lips.“You want me to pose?”
“If you’re willing.”I press a kiss to her temple.“Lie down on the couch.Let me try.”
Her smile turns mischievous, but she complies, crossing to a worn leather couch about five feet away.She arranges herself on her side, head propped on one hand, the shirt riding up to reveal the smooth expanse of her thighs.
“Like this?”she asks, all innocence.
“Perfect.”I return to the easel, selecting a fresh canvas.“Don’t move.”
She holds the pose while I sketch, the charcoal flying across the rough surface.The morning light pours through now, bathing her in gold.She’s never looked more beautiful—relaxed, unguarded, entirely at ease in my space.
Over time, I notice subtle changes.She shifts slightly, letting the shirt gape open to reveal the curve of a breast.She stretches, catlike, raising the hem of the fabric higher until I get a glimpse of her bare pussy.
My hand slows.
The charcoal hovers above the canvas as I watch her fingers trace lazy patterns on the leather, inching closer and closer to the shadow between her thighs.
“Serena!”
“Yes?”She looks at me through her lashes, the picture of innocence, while her hand continues its journey, her palm rubbing against her folds.Now I can see the pink flesh glistening with arousal.
“What are you doing?”
“Modeling.”Her smile is wicked.“Isn’t this what you wanted?”
Minx.
I set down the charcoal and cross the distance to her in two strides.She watches me approach, her pupils dilating, her breath quickening.When I reach the couch, she rolls onto her back and looks up at me with those molten amber eyes.
“I thought you wanted to paint me,” she murmurs, reaching for the waistband of my boxer briefs.
“I do.”I let her pull me down onto the couch, covering her body with mine.The leather is cool against my knees, her skin hot against my chest.“But some things can’t be captured on canvas.”
“Like what?”
I kiss her instead of answering.It’s a slow, deep, and thorough kiss.She sighs into my mouth, her fingers threading through my hair, her legs wrapping around my waist to pull me closer.
But then she grips my hair, yanking my head back with a force that borders on painful.Her eyes blaze with a fire I’ve seen before.It’s the fire of a woman who knows exactly what she wants and refuses to accept less.
“I want you to fuck me, sir,” she breathes.“Like the good sub I am.But first, I want you to spank my ass.”
“You sure about that?”
“I’ve fantasized about this many times,” she purrs, using the words that are catnip for the Dom in me.
I don’t need further invitation.
I flip her onto her stomach with practiced ease, pressing her chest into the leather.The shirt bunches around her waist, leaving her perfect ass exposed.I deliver a sharp slap to one cheek, then the other.Then, I smooth the flesh as it reddens beneath my palm.
“Count,” I command.
“One,” she gasps.“Two.”
After each strike, I caress the spot with one hand, reaching further between her thighs with the other to tease her pussy.I do so until she reaches ten, her voice growing increasingly breathless, her hips pushing back against my hands.By the time I’m done, her arousal is dripping down her thighs, covering my fingers.
I free my cock and position myself at her entrance.“Red yet?”
“No, sir.”Her voice is wrecked in the best way.“Please, fuck me.”
