I help her up and lift her shirt off her body, throwing it over the railing down to the floor below. She returns the favor, sending my shirt flying after hers.
With determined eyes, she bends to pull her pants down, staying in her squat position to free my dick too. I grab one of the bottles of blue paint and dip some onto my finger. Gently, I swipe the paint across the base of her throat.
She picks a yellow bottle and lets it drip onto my shoulder.
We keep going back and forth, covering each other in innocent places until I smear some green paint across her breasts. She hisses from the cold, her eyes hazy when she looks back at me. Licking her lips, she picks a different color and pours it down her chest until she’s almost completely covered, then she smashes our bodies together. Her lips seek out mine, tangling our tongues together as her paint-covered hands explore the planes of my chest.
I pick her up and wrap her body around my waist before sinking to my knees and laying her on top of the canvas.
I lean up to grab a condom and stop to admire her, a living embodiment of art. She watches with hooded eyes as I sheath myself and then welcomes the cold touch as I pour more paint between our bodies and slide inside.
“Ahhh my God,” she shivers.
Her hands curl against my stomach, making my muscles contract. I pick up her hand and stretch it behind her head, enjoying the imprint she leaves behind on the canvas. Stretching her arm high like this arches her body upward, her gorgeous figure like a statue.
“Keep your arm there,” I command as I let go in order to smear paint all over my hand to cup her breast, branding her with my touch.
Her pussy clenches around me, plunging me forward so my nose is buried in her neck. I feel the paint plastering itself to my nose, chin, and beard. I just don’t care. The scent of her perfume clings to my nose. It’srich in its complexities, unapologetically spicy yet sweet. It’s intoxicating, much like the woman wearing it.
“Micah,” she moans, biting her lip to keep from screaming.
“Be free with yourself, Storm. If you wanna scream, then scream. These walls can take it.”
She reaches for the yellow paint and dips her fingers in it. Watching me, she rubs her paint-covered fingertips over her nipples.
“I should discipline you for moving your arm when I said not to.”
She tweaks her nipples more. “Are you going to?”
Fuck, is she tempting.
I sink my arms into the blue and red paints until they’re almost elbow deep. Paint drips from my fingers as I pull them out. “No, princess, but I am going to make a mess of you.”
She sucks in an intake of air when my hands connect with her throat and glide down her body. I caress the underside of her breasts before dragging my hands down the front of her stomach. She arches into me as I pump into her.
I grip her hips and knead them, fueled by her mewls and whispers of pleasure. My hands make their way to her ass, holding it for what I hope is long enough to leave perfect handprints.
“Mmm, Micah, I need more,” she cries.
My lips tilt up to a maniacal grin. I’m always willing to give her more. I’d give her anything. I lean down to kiss her, sucking her tongue into my mouth before pulling away. “I got you.”
I glide my hands up to the back of her knees, pushing until her legs stretch out past my head. I kiss her ankle and then push her legs until they’re spread wide on both sides.
“Shit, that feels good,” she gasps.
Gripping her hips again so I can lift myself to get a better angle, I slam back into her as her head rolls backward.
There are no more words to be used. No commands or challenges. We let the art speak for itself. The only sounds are the smacking of my body into hers and our groans of ecstasy.
After we’ve washed the paint from our bodies and our hair, we watch the video we made and recreate it again and again without the paint. We’re still on the floor from our latest go-round when my phone pings with an email.
What the fuck?
The email isn’t from Victor. It’s from Tanya herself.
From: [email protected]
