"So good," she says, throwing back her head as she begins to ride me hard and fast.
I grip her hips, the sensation mouth-watering. I sit up a fraction and then pull her down hard, holding her in place. "So, will you marry me?" I ask, pushing up into her, stilling until she answers me.
"Yes." She's panting, her chest heaving.
"When?"
"Oliver, please make love to me first."
I flip her onto her back. She wraps her legs around me, digging her feet into my arse. "When?" I ask again, pushing into her slowly.
"Deeper," she begs, her nails biting into my flesh.
I hold still again, and she gazes up at me. "As soon as you want, but please, fuck me already."
I drive into her, my balls slapping against her arse. She reaches between us and touches herself, knowing how much I love it when she lets go of her inhibitions.
It's enough to make me come, but I hold back, wanting her to ride the wave with me. I watch in awe as her climax builds, her hot centre tightening around me like a vice.
"Come on, baby, let go," I grunt, thrusting into her.
She leans up, her teeth bite down on my shoulder, pulling me tightly against her naked flesh, slick with sweat as we find our release together.
Chapter Sixty-Seven
RACHEL
Panting heavily, I lay in Olly’s arms, our sweat-slick bodies coming down from our ministrations. I gaze over the room, overwhelmed he would do this for me. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.”
He kisses my shoulder. “I wish it were a real studio, but for now, I think it’ll do.”
I can’t wait to paint it. My fingers itch to pick up a paintbrush, to allow my imagination to run wild over the canvas. There is always something magical about a blank canvas right before you start—anything is possible.
“I still want to paint you,” I say, stroking up and down his arm.
“Oh, you do, do you?”
I giggle when he nips at the skin below my ear. “Yes, like one of those French girls,” I say, teasing.
He pulls me underneath him, hovering, his arms either side of my head. “Well, I can think of something else I’d rather do,” he says, his lips covering mine.
I don’t know if I’ll ever get enough of this man, of the way he touches me, which I now understand to be his love language. “And what’s that?” I whisper into his mouth.
“How about I show you,” he says, working his way down my body. It tingles in anticipation, and then a soft breath caresses my most sensitive parts.
With a flick of his tongue, I become lost and found with every stroke, lick and nip. He brings out a wild, lustful side of me I never knew existed. With him, I am insatiable. I trust him with my body and heart. I didn’t realise until now how the two go hand in hand.
He kisses his way up my body, back to my face.
“One of my favourite things is to witness how your body reacts to an orgasm. Do you know you flush pink? You get patches here, here and here.” He kisses each one for emphasis.
“What can I say? You do things to me.”
He laughs and kisses the tip of my nose. Letting out a contented sigh, he lays beside me, and I curl into him, utterly sated.
I hold up my hand and admire the ring, wiggling my fingers. “It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
“Hmm, hmm.”
