The sounds she did make must have awoken something in her. Something strong, determined, and eternal. Three things that June Kingsley always responded to.
She never planned on feeling this instant connection with Sette. Everything was business as usual until she saw the way she looked at her during their first encounter. She loved to feel her body, to orgasm with her aid, but she did so knowing who she was.Knowing. It was like she already knew what kind of heart beat inside her. What her soul had seen. Perhaps she would still need to learn her mind, but that always came in time.
No opportunity to think about that now. Sette was inside her, pushed as far as she could go, her skin one with June’s as she entered her embrace and accepted her lips all over her.Holy shit, it hasn’t felt like this in a long fucking time.June barely had time to think about that before Sette’s hand eased out of her, only to thrust in again.
The way she made love to June was nothing like she was used to. June was used to clients who took her hard and fast, two things she loved, but this… this was good, too. June had for too long assumed that someone who made slow love lacked confidence or didn’t know what they were doing. Sette definitely knew what she was doing. How else did her fingertips find every sensitive spot inside of June within three seconds?
“Oh, my God,” June tried to catch her arms, but Sette was up, pulling her sweater over her head.Let me look at you. I don’t just want to feel you. I want to see you, too.See her for who she was? Few were so vulnerable with her. “Sette…”
She didn’t reprimand June for speaking, but she did kiss her, smothering her lips and sinking her tongue into her throat like fingers sank into her depths. June did not hesitate to kiss her back. If it were at all possible, she was more famished than Sette, grinding hips against hand, wrapping her palm around Sette’s neck, pulling her down,downon top of her, and willing Sette to fuck her faster.
In time, she did.
By then, June was lost to the motions of their bodies, the throes of their passion, and the climax building from within. At this rate, she would come before she even pleasured Sette. Not that such a thing was a problem. In fact, it would be another first in a long while.
“I’m gonna come.” Her whine was soft, but the moan following crashed into both of them like a destructive wave. June’s fingerstightened on Sette’s neck. Her inner walls tightened around her fingers. “Fuck!”
“I know.” Sette rocked into her a final time. Hard enough to send her over the edge, and gentle enough to bring her back down.
“Oh, God!” June didn’t know how. She didn’t know why. All she knew was that she lost control of her body and writhed beneath Sette’s, every neuron in her brain going haywire as every nerve beneath her skin caught fire and burned in an unbelievable blaze. Sette rode it out with her, never backing away from how a woman could come.
Not until she was starting to fall from her high did Sette snatch her ass with one hand and bring half her body up off the bed, her other hand leveraging them both against the comforter. It was then that Sette drove her hand into June, so hard, so demanding that June started to come a second time, breath wasted on her as she gasped in time with her growing groans.
Sette stayed inside her for a minute, gazing at her features and feeling June quiver around her. One last kiss grazed her lips before Sette pulled away, leaving June reeling on her bed for the second time that week.
“There. That’s what I want.” June thought Sette meant her body, but when her eyesight focused, she realized Sette was pointing to her model’s expression. “Sensual.”
She pulled her clothes back together before returning to her easel. June’s eyes glazed over. Artists were too damn much.
Chapter 8
Sette
Every window in the parlor adjacent to Sette’s studio was opened. Fresh, warm air blew in, carrying with it a helping of pollen that an artist like Sette usually tried to avoid having fly around her home – particularly near the studio. That day? She didn’t give a horse’s ass.
“Wow,” Zara said, holding the dried canvas in her hands. “Wow. This is great.”
“Isn’t it?” Sette paced behind the chaise lounge Zara occupied, occasionally glancing down at her finished painting of June. She had arrived late enough the night before to eat dinner, but instead took her sketched canvas straight to the studio and stayed up all night imbuing it with fantastic colors.I never do that. Sette liked to let her sketches sit for a week or more before editing the lines and even considering the colors. From the moment she left the Manoir, however, with her hours with Junefresh in her mind, she had no choice. It had to be painted right away.
“It’s more than great.” Zara brought the canvas closer to her eyes, careful not to smudge it with her nose. “It’s fucking fantastic. Probably your best since that painting of Versailles. Only this time there’s a naked woman on it!” As Sette wandered away to pour herself more iced tea, Zara continued, “This is that hot blonde from the Manoir? You slutty bitch.”
“It is her.” Sette did her damndest not to think about the details of yesterday, lest she start getting excited in all the wrong ways.She was… divine. The more she got to know June, the more Sette realized that “divine” was probably not a word often associated with brusque and honest June. Yet Sette couldn’t think of any other word to describe her.Beautifulno longer had any meaning.Exquisitemade her sound like a fancy French dish. No, she was more than beautiful, more relatable than French cuisine. Hearing her life story fit her aura so much that Sette could only think of capturing her essence on the canvas.
When she walked into the Manoir the day before, Sette had not considered sex with her. Then June had become too perfect to resist. Everything about her was perfect. The way she felt beneath Sette’s body. The way she moaned… not fake at all. The way she writhed. That didn’t even touch the way she physically felt on the other end of Sette’s touch. That couldn’t even be described in a mortal’s words.She makes me want to be a poet. Muses were dangerous.
“Now, I know she doesn’t look like she had sex because you did her. Either she’s the biggest pro in the universe, or she had done some other sod before you got there.” Zara’s grin was too stupid to bear. “You have to pay extra to get her after another client?”
Sette didn’t deign that with an answer. As an artist, she had wanted to capture everything she saw on June after having sex with her, but as a woman, she refrained from adding the morevivid depictions that resulted from two people coming together. She did not, however, hold back on the dark blond hairs on June’s mound. Perfectly groomed. Perfectly womanly.
She couldn’t stand to think about it.
“Your agent is going to love this, Sette.” She probably wasn’t aware of her actions, but Zara’s finger hovered over the lighting of the window as it poured over June’s flawless skin. “I’m serious. You need to call her up right now and tell her your next collection is all nudes.”
“I’ve been thinking about it. Doing a collection, that is.” Five hundred portraits of June everywhere Sette could put her. Not just on her bed. In a chair by the window, out in the garden, in this home. Now, Sette had to stop thinking about that before things got too wild in her head. At the end of the day, June was not a normal girlfriend, no matter how much she played up a fantasy when they were together.
Zara grinned. “You should do that Grace girl next. She had an ass to die for.” She cleared her throat. “I would know… saw it.”
“Did it, I’m sure.”
