Page 90 of Painted Truths

Nuzzling my nose into the nape of her neck, I breathe deeply. Her floral scent mixing with the sweet smell of our exertions causes my dick to swell against her ass, earning me a groan.

“I can’t again. Henry!” A deep chuckle vibrates through my chest into her back and all along her divine nakedness.

“Oh, baby. I may be a bad bastard, but I’m not that much of a shit. At least not to you.”

I drop a kiss on that sweet spot before drawing her even closer against my chest.

“Never to you, Peach. Never ever.”

And we lie like that, wrapped up in each other’s souls, each other’s essences, as her slow and even breathing eventually lulls me into a deep and peaceful slumber unlike any I’ve had in as long as I can remember.

* * *

I wake the following morning to an empty bed, the sound of the waves outside our villa a whisper against the shore.

I soon realise there’s another sound. That of the shower, meaning one thing.

A wet, naked Peach.

Throwing the covers from my bare body, I all but sprint to the ensuite, throwing the door open to find her under the showerhead. Naked and soaped.

In other words… perfection.

And I have plans to make peace with her pussy before the nuptials later today.

Sensing my presence, she looks over her shoulder right at me while putting her perfect ass on display for my viewing fucking pleasure. I just stand and take in her unequivocal flawlessness for a long moment before I close the distance to the shower, my eyes never leaving hers.

I rip open the door and allow my eyes to drift slowly down along her body, finally landing on her sweet, bare pussy before falling to my knees at her feet.

Our eyes meet and hold as she draws in several frenzied breaths when she sees the intense resolution in my eyes.

The showerhead sprays water down her shoulders and back, dripping from each delicious curve while I kneel in reverence at her feet, like the divinity she so clearly is, before palming her taut stomach to guide her back until she meets the tiled wall.

Grasping her ankle, I run my hand upwards until I meet her knee, bending it before hooking her leg over my shoulder, exposing her core to my eager gaze.

I run my open hands up the inside of both soft thighs until they land on either side of her centre, gently parting her pink lips, allowing me to glimpse her already swelling nub. The desire to please this woman, my woman, goes through me like a lightning bolt when I see her pussy begin to glisten with her own moisture, now mixing with the water from the shower.

“I need to apologise for last night, Peach.”

Placing her hand atop my head and holding me at arm’s length, she says, “There’s nothing to be sorry for, Henry. I told you that.”

Furrowing my brow, my lips lift into the biggest shit-eating grin.

“I never said I had to apologise to you, baby.”

Her brows lift quizzically.

Innocently.

I fucking love it. “I have to apologise to her.”

Pushing my head against her restraining hand until my tongue meets her clit and all her reticence drains away, I lay siege to her pussy, fully intent on kissing her better until she forgives my jealous ignorance.

Being the most sexually responsive woman I’ve ever known, Liv takes no more than thirty seconds before she drenches my starving tongue with her honey.

“Yes, baby. Give me that sweetness.” Her hips buck against my face, urging me closer.

Taking her ass cheeks in both hands and using the wall as leverage, I push her upwards, settling her other leg over my shoulder so that I have full access to her weeping folds.