AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I closed my eyes and touched her all over, kissed her tattoo, sank a finger inside her, and her back tensed against my chest. I kissed her neck. I grabbed her by the hair. I smelled the sea on her skin and all I wanted was to lick it. I ran my tongue down her spine and felt every twitch in her body. I stopped thinking about anything. Except for her. Me. Us. How precious she was, how full of color…
I wasn’t thinking when I stretched my hand out to the palette next to us and buried my fingers in her paints. Then I ran them over her body: her back, her buttocks, her legs. I colored her with my hands on top of that canvas.
She sighed. “Axel…”
There was so much longing in her voice that I almost came when I heard her say my name that way. I held my breath and pulled her bikini bottoms down in one go. I unbuttoned my pants and took them off as I lay beside her and held her over the canvas in my arms stained with paint.
I pushed inside her. I closed my eyes.
I couldn’t see her face, but I could hear her rapid breaths. I rammed her again, holding her hips tight. Harder. Deeper. Leah moaned, shouted. I clenched my teeth and grabbed more paint and my hands covered her with it while I pushed inside her over and over, and it was never enough, nothing filled the hole in my chest at the uncertainty of whether or not this was forever. When her skin was covered in paint and sweat, I pulled away and turned her around, because I wanted to fuck her with my eyes, too, with my hands, with every gesture.
Leah’s breathing was agitated and her bare breasts rose and fell rhythmically. Her eyes were shining and pinned on me. Full of everything. Love. Desire. Need. Our gazes intertwined while I traced a blue line from her cheek to her belly button, slowly, so slow that every touch between her skin and mine was pleasure and torture at the same time. Her soft lips opened as she squeezed me against her, smearing me with the paint that covered her while I contemplated her, enchanted.
“I’m so fucking in love with you…”
“Kiss me.” She sank her fingers in my hair and pulled me close until our lips met.
She tasted like strawberry. She tasted like strawberry again.
She moved her hips in a circle. I exhaled and clenched my teeth.
“I could spend my whole life like this, fucking you and looking at you and kissing you.” I moaned and grabbed her ass to ram her deeper.
Leah bit my lip when I held her wrists down on the canvas and moved my hips against hers, making her mine, getting lost in her, giving her everything.
“Fuck, babe…fuck…”
She came. Her back arched, she moaned into my mouth.
Her eyes were glassy when she opened them again.
I kept ramming her. More and more and more…
“Tell me you love me,” she said.
I pressed my forehead into hers. My heart sped up, pounding hard, and I ran my lips softly over her, tasting her, tasting her tension, about to explode. I took a deep breath when she kissed me on the heart, in the middle of my chest, then I lost control and exploded with a groan that I silenced against her warm flesh.
I hugged her. Silence. I brought my mouth to her ear. “We all live in a yellow submarine.”
I didn’t move for what seemed like an eternity. Because I couldn’t. I was still inside her, over her body, and all I could think was that it was perfect, that there are things we seem destined for and that just have to happen. I breathed against her neck until she moved her arms to wrap them around me, and the touch of her skin made me open my eyes. I wrinkled my forehead and pulled away from her. I stood up. I looked at her lying there over that surface that was once white and that was now full of color, of us making love, of the image her body had made next to mine.
I held my breath. Something jerked in my chest.
“What is it? What are you looking at?”
“The greatest work of my life.” I grabbed her wrists and pulled her up.
There it was. A painting. Mine. Hers. Ours.
Leah hugged me. I was incapable of looking away from that whirlpool of colors, of random lines, of our story made art. That day I understood that you didn’t have to think to represent, that what would be scribbles and blotches to everyone else could be, for us, the most beautiful painting in the world.
I crouched down, grabbed it, and went to the bedroom.
“Axel, what are you doing?” Leah followed me.
I grabbed my toolbox and took out a hammer and anchor screws. Ten minutes later, the painting was there, taking up the entire wall over my bed. And I knew that it would stay there forever. I turned back to Leah, my breathing still far from calm.
“It’s not dry yet,” she whispered.
