Читать книгу Muse - Sommer Marsden - Страница 14

They were back. She sat there trembling. Utterly naked. A feeling Dani was getting used to. Only this time Kevin Buck stood to her left and Christopher stood to her right. Buck holding a paintbrush still dotted with cobalt blue. Chris’s stubbornly showing streaks of thick crimson. Her breath stuttered when the silver fox, whose name she didn’t know, came forward brandishing his own thick brush. A medium-sized red sable brush with absolutely no paint on it.

‘You’re both doing it wrong,’ he said with confidence.

His voice was rich and deep and seemed to snake around her body, stroking her skin until goosebumps stood up, rigid little peaks of anticipation on her skin.

He stepped between the younger men and with his knee knocked her legs wider. What was a pleasant warmth between her thighs became a damp river.

‘She doesn’t need to be painted. Can’t you see that?’ His smile was nothing more than a slight curl of his upper lip. But the amusement it conveyed met his eyes because they shone with humour. ‘She’s perfect. None of this adornment is necessary.’

He took his bare paintbrush and stroked it across her forehead. Dani had never realised that her forehead was so sensitive. Or that it could make the heat and wetness between her thighs turn to a steady drumbeat of arousal.

The red sable tip tickled across the jut of her cheekbones, swept across her lips, arched down her jawline and then slithered down her neck. When he reached her collarbone he slowed the drag of the tip along her skin.

Her nipples spiked, hard and tender. She wondered, randomly, if she was cracking the paint the other two had applied. Realised she didn’t care. A warmth spread along her skin everywhere his naked paintbrush travelled.

Keeping wolfish blue eyes on her, the silver fox trailed the tip down between her breasts. Completely ignoring that needy part of her. His intention was clear. He was headed towards the neediest part of her.

He swept the brush in a great spiral, spreading out across her ribs, coming in with ever decreasing circles until he finally spun a tight ring around her navel. Then without warning he removed the brush and leaned in so that she could see the coarse silver hair sprouting along his cheeks and jawline. She saw too the shining metallic threads at his temples, intermingled with dark-dark brown hair, so dark it was nearly black.

‘Tell me you want it,’ he said, conversationally. Then he smiled. It was a Big Bad Wolf smile. A predator smile. But with just a hint of something else. Understanding. Acceptance. It toned down the almost scary quality of his expression.

She swallowed hard, her throat clicked, her heart hammered so much she feared it would come bursting from her chest like a cartoon character.

‘I want it,’ she managed. And then of her own accord: ‘I do. Please.’

He nodded as if satisfied. Stepped back just enough to get a good angle, and slid the paintbrush over her mound. Painting it first. Painting it with nothing but her own desire.

He followed the V of the place where her thighs met her sex. And when her hips shot up as if possessed, he finally dipped the soft brush between her thighs, dragging it slowly across her clit. Applying no pressure at all until she gasped. Then he did it again while putting more pressure on the brush so that the place where brush met handle nudged her clit with a little more friction – a little more oomph.

‘Fuck,’ she said, before she could think of it.

There was that lip curl again. That entirely satisfied look of a man who knows exactly what the hell he’s doing. And its effect.

Dani leaned back a little, giving him better access. He took that as acceptance and placed one big hand between her breasts. He pushed her back on the small table she sat upon and painted her clit with his soft brush as if applying the minutest details.

Her breath came short and fast. Her body taut from need, her mind a blank canvas because all thought had fled. When she whimpered, he stopped.

Dani looked at him as he regarded each of the other men, who stood there watching like mute sentinels. ‘Of course the best paintbrush isn’t found in an art supply store,’ the silver fox said. Or was he now the silver wolf to her? ‘At least not for a project such as this.’

He knelt between her thighs, spread them wide, and held them so tightly in his fingers she thought she’d wear small purple crescents for days. And she liked the idea. Liked it very much.

His tongue was so wet. So hot. And, as her pleasure swelled up, threatening to swallow her down, force her under and tumble her out to sea, she had to agree: it was the best paintbrush she could think of for this.

He swirled his tongue, lapped at her and dragged it in small circles and then large whirls. Constantly off-balance. Constantly trying to catch her breath. Her fingers curled against the soft skin of her belly as she tried so hard not to clutch at him. When he sucked her clit hard enough for her to bite her tongue and then shifted back to gentler moves, she came. Driving her hips up, crying out. Her eyes darted from one man to the other to the next before finally settling on Christopher. He smiled at her. ‘Why didn’t I think of that?’

* * *

She didn’t see any choice in the matter. Dani stumbled to the shower seconds after sitting straight up in bed aroused beyond thought for the second day in a row. If she was going to have any hope of getting through the day without her mind collapsing she’d have to do something about the pounding need between her legs.

She took a moment to stand under the shower and then grabbed the showerhead and turned it to the massage setting. It was only about thirty seconds, she thought. It only took that long of the constant, heavy sensation on her swollen clit before she was coming. Her forehead pressed to the cool tile, her mind swallowed up for a few blissful seconds by nothing but the intense physical sensation.

It had never entered her mind that doing this thing – this wild and crazy thing – would have these kinds of repercussions. She wasn’t sure if she liked it or loathed it. All she knew for certain was that the whole damn experience was intense. She’d never had more than vaguely erotic dreams in her life. Now they were full-blown erotic movies that felt like actual encounters.

‘Focus,’ she said, wiping the mirror clear of steam. She stared at herself. She looked tired but oddly energised as well. She sighed then went about getting ready for work. After she’d brushed her teeth, applied minimal makeup and pulled on a grey sweater dress with tights and mid-calf boots, she braided her hair because there was no time to blow-dry it. She’d spent too much time wandering around in a haze. She made a quick cup of coffee, poured it into her travel mug and hit the road.

She’d just flipped her computer on when she heard. ‘Woah … you had another one, didn’t you?’

She glanced up to find Cheryl there, arms crossed, leaning against the door jamb, looking very smug indeed.

‘Hush.’

‘Tell me I’m wrong.’

‘You’re not wrong,’ she sighed. She finished her coffee and realised she’d definitely, without a doubt, need more today.

‘And?’

‘And what?’

‘There’s something else,’ Cheryl said, tapping her toe. She wore Snoopy scrubs today and Dani half expected her to break out in the classic Snoopy dance when she finally decided to answer.

‘There were three of them this time.’

‘You met someone else!’

‘You know, back in the day they’d try you for witchcraft for all this thought-reading and stuff.’

‘That doesn’t take a witch to figure out.’ Cheryl crept closer, keeping herself angled for the door in case the receptionist called her out for a patient.

‘A guy in the Tuesday/Thursday class. The silver fox,’ she said, feeling stupid.

‘The what?’ Cheryl was trying not to laugh.

Dani shook her head. ‘I don’t know his name. He’s older. Probably mid-forties. Silver in his hair and his beard. Bright blue eyes. Just …’ She shrugged.

‘Ah, just a hot-ass silver fox. I get it. And was he good? In the dream?’

Dani chewed her lip. ‘Jesus Christ … he was the best one.’

‘Oh, my God,’ Cheryl said. Then Rebecca called her name from the front and she sighed. ‘Lunch. Eleven-thirty. I want all the details.’

‘They’re too dirty.’

‘Those are the best kind!’ Cheryl cried, throwing up her hands. Then she hurried out to the front of the office. The day had started and the patients didn’t want to wait because Dani was suddenly having X-rated dreams.

She made it through her morning and almost cried with relief when lunch came. She needed a break from trying so damn hard to focus. Her mind was a collage of men and paint and brushes and orgasms. She needed to let her mind be pudding for the next hour.

She’d just taken a seat next to Cheryl, ready to tuck into her Greek salad and bottle of water, when the other chair slid backwards so fast she jumped. Her mother – her mother! – flopped down in the seat, clutching her giant purse in her lap, and stared at Dani. ‘What is this I hear about you doing pornography?’

‘Jesus …’ Dani muttered.

‘Language!’ her mother scolded and then sat there waiting for an explanation.