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Wiping my hands on a cloth, I made my way to the door. My heart skipped a beat when I saw who it was through the glass pane. Austin. His silhouette was unmistakable, even in the dim lighting. I took a deep breath, trying to still the fluttering in my chest.
Opening the door, I found him leaning against the frame, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. The soft glow from the porch light gave a warm sheen to his tanned skin. His hazel eyes met mine and twinkled with a playful glint.
"Paisley," he said, his voice husky, sending a shiver down my spine. "I hope I'm not interrupting."
"You could never," I replied with a smile, my voice betraying my surprise. "What brings you here at this hour?"
He shrugged, a smile playing on his lips. "Can't a guy visit the most enchanting artist in Valle di Sole without a reason?"
I chuckled, feeling a flush rise to my cheeks. "Always the charmer, aren't you?"
He took a step closer, his presence filling the space. "I saw your light on and thought you might want some company."
I glanced back at the canvas, the unfinished painting seeming to beckon me. "Actually, I was in the middle of?—"
But Austin didn’t wait for me to finish. He gently took the wine glass from my hand, setting it on a table by the door. "Art can wait. I've missed you," he murmured, his eyes searching mine.
The electricity between us was palpable. The world outside seemed to blur, and there was only Austin and me. His gaze lowered to my lips, and without any more words, he bridged the gap between us.
I leaned in, our lips meeting in a soft, lingering kiss. The world stood still, and for that moment, nothing else mattered.
The warmth of Austin's embrace was both reassuring and intoxicating. I could feel the rhythm of his heart against mine, a symphony that mirrored my own racing heartbeat. Before I could fully grasp what was happening, Austin's hands slid behind my knees, effortlessly lifting me off the ground. A surprised gasp escaped my lips.
"Trust me," he whispered, his voice dripping with tenderness and promise.
I nodded, wrapping my arms around his neck, marveling at the strength that radiated from him. The wine I’d consumed earlier combined with the dizzying sensation of being swept off my feet made the world tilt just slightly, but I felt safe in his grasp. It didn’t escape me that he worked in the vineyard. The labor had honed his muscles, chiseling them into a form that was both rugged and graceful.
"You're so strong," I breathed, the words escaping me before I could stop them.
Austin chuckled softly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "One of the perks of working the vines." His voice had that playful tone, the one that always made me want to discover more about him.
Before I could formulate a response, I felt the softness of my bed against my back, the gentle creak of springs as Austin laid me down. The world spun for just a second before his familiar scent grounded me – a mix of fresh earth, sun-kissed grapes, and a hint of musk.
His weight shifted, and soon, he was hovering above me, his silhouette framed by the dim light filtering through the curtains. Every contour of his face was thrown into sharp relief, and I was struck once again by how handsome he was.
Austin's lips found the crook of my neck, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine. Each kiss was a dance – gentle at first, then growing in intensity. The sensation was overwhelming, the combination of his lips, teeth, and tongue eliciting a moan from deep within me.
"Austin..." The name rolled off my tongue, a plea, a prayer.
He responded with more fervor, his mouth exploring, marking, claiming. My fingers instinctively sought the fabric of his shirt, slipping beneath it to feel the heat of his skin. His back was a tapestry of muscles, taut and firm under my touch. I couldn't resist digging my nails into him, drawing him even closer, as if trying to merge our very beings.
His low growl vibrated against my neck, a testament to the raw emotion coursing between us. Every sensation was heightened – the soft rustle of fabric, the muted sound of our breaths, the warmth of our entwined bodies.
For a moment, time seemed suspended. My heart, erratic and thundering, was the only sound that penetrated the thick silence enveloping us. The gravity of our connection, the intensity of our closeness, felt like a tangible weight, pressing down on my chest.
Without warning, Austin shifted, pulling himself onto his knees. I could sense his deliberate movements, each one calculated and full of intent. His hands, those powerful tools shaped by countless hours tending the vineyard, found their way to my hips. The warmth of his palms seared through the fabric of my clothing, and I was hyper-aware of every point of contact.
With gentle yet firm guidance, he tilted my hips upwards, aligning our bodies in a way that sent a jolt of electricity through me. The layers of fabric between us did little to disguise the raw, primal energy that pulsed through him. His movements were deliberate, rhythmic, a dance of need and desire. As he pressed and moved against me, the pressure built, a crescendo of sensations that threatened to consume us both.
A soft whimper escaped my lips, a mixture of surprise and yearning. It was impossible to look away, to ignore the evidence of his arousal becoming more pronounced. That delicate friction, the teasing slide of fabric against fabric, was a sweet torment.
Suddenly, Austin's eyes met mine. There was a vulnerability there, mixed with a fierce hunger. Those eyes, with their endless depths and hints of mischief, held me captive.
"Do you like watching me?" he asked, his voice husky, the words almost a challenge.
My breath caught in my throat. That question, laden with both innocence and seduction, sent a shiver down my spine. My reply was a whisper, my voice betraying the tempest of emotions swirling inside me. "Yes."
His eyes darkened, his expression one of raw desire.
