Page 85 of Painted Truths

My body arches into his hand as he seizes one cheek in his large palm before moving back around to rest tantalisingly above my pubic bone, causing the butterflies in my stomach to take flight.

“And this…”

He dips his hand lower and lower until his fingers are resting ever so lightly at the edge of my bikini bottoms, achingly close to my fluttering, wet sex.

Teasing the briefs to one side with his pinkie finger, a flood of wetness drips out of my exposed core, coating my inner thighs, and he continues. “...Oh yes, this is definitely mine. Isn’t that right, Peach?”

Barely able to draw a breath, let alone respond with how turned on I am, I nod mutely.

Goodbye feminism. It was nice knowing you.

Pulling his finger away, a cry of alarm is wrenched from my suddenly dry mouth. He lets go of the hand holding mine between us to catch the strings on either side of my bikini. Then he jerks them open in one swift, smooth move, allowing the material to fall to the floor before he uses his foot to kick my feet apart, giving him more access to the apex of my quivering thighs.

He skims his hand along my naked ass, taking his sweet time caressing both cheeks before finally getting to my aching pussy.

Leisurely, as though he has all the time in the world, he dips a finger barely inside before drawing out even more wetness and covering my pulsing, engorged clit in teasing circles that make my toes curl in delicious anticipation.

I can barely remember how we got to this point; all I know is I don’t want him to stop making me feel like this.

And he’s right. I am his.

Entirely.

Completely.

Irrevocably his.

“Say it, Peaches. Say yes. Tell me you’re mine.”

“Henry, I… I… oh….”

Henry impales me with two fingers, stretching me so delightfully I can’t speak. I can’t think. I can only feel.

I only want to feel.

“Tell me, baby.”

He withdraws his fingers to slap my pussy so hard it reverberates through my body, sending shocks of pleasurable pain from my core all the way to each extremity.

“Your body doesn’t lie, Peach.”

Another gush of pure desire leaves my heat, soaking his entire hand as he uses the juices that are surely covering his palm to grind it against my throbbing clit in the most sinfully decadent manner. I could come from the thought alone.

I’m a panting mess when he returns his long fingers to my aching sex, thrumming with a need only this man brings out in me.

Closing my eyes, I focus on the feeling of his fingers moving in, out, around and around, stretching me gloriously. Then, he begins planting hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses on the back of my neck, nipping at the joining where my neck meets my shoulder in the most sublime way.

“Say yes. Say it. Say the words. Invite me in.”

He grinds his hard-on into my ass cheeks as his fingers plunge in and out of my dripping slit, faster and faster, the sound of my own wetness loud and utterly arousing as his fingers fuck me.

I can’t hold back my moans of desperate pleasure as he drives me higher and higher.

“Yes, Peach. Come for me. Come all over my hand.”

He curves his wrist so that his palm grinds against my clit with each forward thrust of his hand, giving me that exquisite friction I need, and my pussy convulses around his digits, my orgasm moments away from tearing through me as I scream.

“Yes, Henry. Yes, I’m yours. Only ever yours.”