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Austin walked over to the canvas, studying it with a discerning eye. "This is beautiful, Paisley. Your work always amazes me."
A flush of pride surged through me. "Thank you. That means a lot, especially coming from you."
I went to the kitchenette, searching for the bottle of Pinot noir I had been saving for a special occasion. As I popped the cork, Austin made himself comfortable on the couch. Pouring the wine into two glasses, I handed one to him.
"To new beginnings," I toasted, clinking my glass against his.
He took a sip, appreciating the rich flavor. "It’s excellent. You have a good taste."
The room was filled with soft music from the radio, and the ambiance was perfect. We talked about everything under the sun, from art to travel to silly anecdotes from our childhood. But as the night wore on and the wine began to take its effects, our conversation grew more personal, more intimate.
At some point, I found myself seated next to him, our faces inches apart. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my face and see the depth of emotion in his eyes.
"Paisley," he whispered, his voice low.
I met his gaze, the world around us blurring out. And then, almost magnetically, we were drawn together, our lips meeting in a soft, lingering kiss. The initial gentleness soon gave way to urgency as our mouths moved in harmony, exploring and tasting.
His hand found the back of my neck, pulling me closer, while mine clung to his shirt, feeling the heat of his body through the fabric. The intensity of the moment was electrifying, the kind of passion that’s fueled by a mixture of wine, emotions, and unspoken thoughts.
As the last notes of a sultry jazz tune played from the radio, the world around us seemed to move in slow motion. There was a gravity between us—a need, a hunger that went beyond mere attraction. I could feel Austin's heartbeat against my chest, its rhythm matching mine.
He sat back on the couch, the soft fabric crinkling underneath him. I watched his pupils dilate, his breath slightly uneven. He tried to say something, but I silenced him with a finger to his lips.
"Shh," I whispered. "Let me."
With a confidence I hadn't felt in ages, I settled myself on his lap, feeling the warmth of him beneath me. His eyes, filled with a mix of surprise and longing, locked onto mine.
"Paisley," he began, but I leaned in, capturing his lips in a searing kiss. As our mouths moved in sync, I slid his hand down my waist, past the hem of my dress, stopping only when I reached the center of my desire. The realization that I wasn't wearing any underwear registered in his eyes, and the surprise was evident.
"You…" he started, pulling back slightly, searching my eyes for an answer.
I smiled, biting my lip teasingly. "Thought it'd be a fun surprise."
He exhaled deeply, his gaze darkening with intensity. "You have no idea what you're doing to me, do you?"
"Well," I responded with a playful grin, "I have some idea."
We were locked in a dance of wills, each challenging the other to take the next step. The energy between us was palpable, each touch and look amplifying the need.
His fingers traced slow, deliberate circles, causing me to shiver and press myself closer to him. "You're playing a dangerous game," he murmured against my neck.
"Maybe I like danger," I replied breathlessly.
His lips had just left mine, the taste of the wine still on them. The air between us was thick, laden with a tension I had never experienced before. As I caught my breath, Austin shifted underneath me. His eyes, previously filled with a fiery passion, now glinted with mischief.
Without breaking eye contact, he reached down, and within seconds, his member was free from the confines of his pants. My eyes widened slightly, not just at the sight, but at the audacity of his actions. He started to stroke it, slowly, deliberately, his gaze never leaving mine.
"Do you think you deserve it, Paisley?" he questioned, his voice dripping with temptation.
I was taken aback. It was a challenge, a game he was playing. And I was never one to back down from a challenge.
Swallowing hard, I tilted my head, feigning innocence. "Deserve what?"
His movements didn't falter, but I noticed his grip tightened ever so slightly. "This," he said huskily, motioning to himself with a devilish grin.
My heart was racing, my mind trying to process the audacity, the thrill, and the undeniable attraction. "What makes you think I want it?" I teased, trying to maintain an upper hand in this game of sensuality.
He leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear. "Because I can see it in your eyes," he whispered, his fingers still at work. "That hunger, that need."
