Page 20 of Wicked Design
He liked what she’d done. A gift with no equal. “I was hot.” She stroked his chiseled abs. Her mouth watered at his incredible brawn. “Surely you have more control, being so strong and big in all the right places.”
He laughed. “Yeah, right.”
“You are.” She stroked the prominent veins on his biceps and cradled his sculpted pecs.
His muscles twitched.
Her pussy went nuts. New moisture seeped from it, needing him inside. “Expose yourself a little at a time. Make me wait. Make me want.”
He pointed. “No snickering or this stops.”
“Cross my heart.” She licked his finger. “You didn’t laugh at me.”
His features slackened. “How could I? Why would I? You’re amazing. No one on Earth has skin like yours.”
“Lifers in solitary do. They don’t go out in the sun, either.”
“It’d be a crime if you did and screwed yourself up. You shouldn’t mess with something so flawless.”
His compliment stopped her dead. No one had ever used that word to describe her, not even her parents, who thought she was pretty great. She grinned. “Thanks. I don’t know about perfect, though… I’m surprised you even noticed my complexion.”
He blushed. “Why? Stuff like that doesn’t get past me. I’m an artist.”
“Au contraire, V. You’re a man first.”
“V?”
She stroked the short dark hairs that swirled around his navel.
His stomach quivered.
Liking that, she touched those rippling muscles. “Do you mind if I call you that from now on, as a nickname?”
“If you want. But shouldn’t it be VG for Van Gogh?”
“I prefer V for virile.”
Despite her corny words, he beamed.
Their artless flirting wasn’t Oscar-worthy, but it was the best life offered. Two souls who could be themselves with each other, their flaws and shortcomings unimportant.
“Want me to help with your jeans?” She wiggled her fingers. “I’m used to working with delicate machinery. I think I can manage your zipper.”
He brushed her hands aside and left the bed but stood near enough for her to touch him. “That’s my job.”
“Then get to it. I’m about to die here.”
“I thought you didn’t want me to rush.” He stroked the metal button, taunting her.
Screw that.She cupped his balls.
His head dropped back. “Fuck.”
“Not with you dressed we won’t.”
Deep laughter quivered his chest. A groan followed. “Give me a sec or I swear I’m gonna come. It won’t be pretty.”
Or fun for her. “Sorry.” She released him and behaved. For the moment.
