The Finished Masterpiece Boxed Set - Pepper Winters Page 0,247

the art, or the confessions he’d strewn around my feet. He kissed me hard, tilting his head and licking me with twisted desire.

Dragging me closer, we bowed to each other, his body still towering over mine. We kissed savage and unforgiving. Gentle and tender weren’t welcome here.

I’d had my dose of violence, and this was his. This was him doing his best to destroy me and remember me all at once.

This was a punishment.

Punishment for himself and the future he faced.

My hands shot to his face, skimming into his hair and pushing away the black hood. I tore off his mask, revealing the tortured painter, the broken lover, the boy I would always miss.

His teeth clacked on mine as he kissed me deeper, pushing me down until I sprawled on the black sheet on the floor. Bottles of paint spilled, oozing their vibrant contents into the fabric. A tub of rhinestones tipped over, scattering brilliant sparkles and sticking to my skin.

We didn’t care about any of it.

He pressed himself on top of me the moment I lay on my back. His hand cupped my breast, squeezing and claiming, making them heavy and throbbing.

His touch smeared his art without a thought.

I arched my back, demanding more.

Needing more.

I moaned as he spread my legs and settled between them. Once again, he was fully clothed and I was gowned in just his creation. No words were exchanged. No soul-stealing stares. Just the urgency to connect.

He kissed me deeper, stealing our final shreds of sanity.

His taste erased everything. His touch deleted the outside world. It was just us. How it should’ve been. How it could never be.

His hand skated down my breast and over my waist to my hip. Tugging at the knickers he’d painted and pressed a black dripping sponge against my clit. With a savage kiss, he pulled them down until I kicked them away.

The minute I was bare, a slim piece of virgin skin amongst the colours he’d transformed me with, he fumbled with his belt.

I helped him, pushing his hand away and unbuckling the leather. He shuddered as I unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, then arched his hips as I pushed down the barrier between us.

He groaned as he settled back between my legs. The warmth of his cock, belly, and thighs made me shiver with pleasure. He was heat and hope all at once.

“Fuck,” he grunted as my fingers dived between our shared warmth and wrapped around his length. His teeth clamped on my bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth before kissing me roughly. Our lips never unlocked. We kissed violently but also slowly, devouring each other with ruthless determination. The glide of his tongue almost distracted me from the feather of his fingers over my core.

My back bowed as the feather became penetration.

I cried out as he drove two fingers deep.

He groaned as he found me wet.

His thumb rocked on my clit as his five o’clock shadow punished my skin; his kiss so deep, he smashed my head against the floor.

His fingers withdrew.

The soft nudge of his cock replaced them.

I froze in his arms, teetering on the precious knife-edge of anticipation.

His tongue swept into my mouth.

His cock thrust swift and thick into me.

God.

I was totally at his mercy.

Totally with him.

Totally his.

The final barrier Gil had always hid behind shattered. I felt everything he did. I felt his regret, his worry, his love. I felt his teeth and tongue as they left me hollow. I felt his thrusting hips and pounding cock as he stole me from any other thoughts.

He invaded me.

Consumed me.

Made sure that I would never, ever forget him.

“Please, Gil.” I didn’t know what I asked for. But he gave it to me. He thrust deeper, kissed harder. Grabbing the back of his nape, I forced our mouths together. I spread my legs shamelessly, granting him space to sink further, drive faster.

My body flushed with wetness and want.

“Shit you feel...” His forehead crashed on mine. He clutched the floor beside my ears, pulling himself up and into me, pinning me to the floor with his hips. “You’re mine, O.”

I didn’t know how to reply.

I wasn’t his.

I couldn’t be.

But I nodded as his thrusts increased. His hips rolled. And his thumb found my clit again.

Fever sprang through my blood. Hot and hungry for the release he conjured. I purred, throwing my head back, scratching my nails on his hoodie.

Once again we fucked in the middle of blues and purples. Other paint bottles tipped over thanks to the