Suddenly the stool starts to rock, unable to keep steady from the unrestrained pounding I’m taking, and I’m almost falling off of it.
Claudio lets out a frustrated growl, and before I know what’s happening, he’s grabbing me by the hair and pulling me off the stool. He throws out his arm so it knocks the stool over, and it goes skittering across the floor.
Without the stool beneath me, I’m being held up by a large fistful of my hair for a moment. Then I’m quickly lowered to the floor where my elbows and knees are digging into the spilled roses. My face is pressed into the petals, and I take in the heady whiff of my namesake flower while Claudio continues to fuck me, still deep inside.
“Fuck,” he cries out gruffly, the pace picking up again. “You feel so good, you are so good, so perfect, I can’t help myself with you.”
With this new position on the floor, my hips higher, another swift thrust of his cock slides against the right places and that pressure inside me expands, making me feel like I’m on the verge of going off like a bomb.
His fingers find my swollen clit again and that’s all it takes. A few wet strokes of delicious friction, and the match strikes, an aching flame rolling down along my spine until it explodes at the base, licking through me, taking no prisoners.
“Oh god, oh god,” I cry out. “Yes.”
Garbled nonsense follows as I come apart around him, feeling like I’ve been blown wide open. There’s nothing left of me, except tender, spent pieces.
My upper body collapses onto the ground, my face crushed against the velvet soft roses, and I try to brace myself for what I know is coming, all while I slowly come back down to earth.
Claudio keeps pumping into me, the sharp slap of his hips filling the room, the feel of his balls as they whip against me. He is a voracious, relentless beast at this moment and I think he might just fuck me into the ground.
Then he stills for a split second, his breath sucked inward, before his fingers bruise my hips, and he comes inside me with a low groan.
His thrusts slow, and eventually his grip loosens and I feel drops of sweat fall onto the small of my back.
“Grace,” he says, and I can still feel myself pulsing around him as my body tries to regulate itself. He lets out a shuddering breath. “Mi hai distrutto. You have destroyed me. Body and soul.”
Likewise, is all I can think. Likewise.
He affectionally runs his hand over my back, smoothing out the sweat, and then pulls out. I immediately feel the space he leaves behind. I wanted him to stay buried in me forever.
He gets to his feet, while I slowly straighten up, on my knees, picking away the loose petals that are sticking to my damp skin. I hear him pull on his clothes, and then he walks around in front of me, just in his briefs, holding out a hand for me.
I give him a quick smile and put my hand in his, letting him help me to my feet.
I expected things to be awkward between us now, since we just had hot, sweaty sex in his artist studio, but it doesn’t feel that way. He grins at me, his eyes glossy and sated, and then wraps a hand around my waist, the skirt of my dress straightening out.
Even after all that, the sight of that smile takes my breath away, making those little butterflies dance.
“Here,” he says quietly, reaching out and touching my forehead. When he removes his hand, I see peachy rose petals in them. “I suppose I’ll have to get more roses for next time.” He pauses, searching my face. “And by that I mean the sculpting session. Let’s see how far I get before you distract me again.”
He leans in and kisses my forehead where the petals had been, his lips warm and lingering. We’re both still trying to catch our breath.
“So,” he says to me, as he pulls away. “Are you done being a model for the night or would you like to try again?”
To be honest, I don’t think I could go back to staring at him for hours and sitting in one spot. I need to be alone to process what happened. I need to think about what this means.
“I might be ready for bed,” I tell him, even though it’s still fairly early. Vanni is probably still up.
But he just nods. “I thought you might.”
Then he turns and grabs his clothes, getting dressed.
And I stand there, wondering how much my world has changed.
Fourteen
Claudio
It wasn’t a dream.
I wake up with a voracious hard-on. I roll over to my side, my legs catching in the sheets. I’m used to waking up like this, particularly after Grace arrived in my life, like a shining star caught in Earth’s gravity. My dreams have been filthy with her.
But last night’s dream wasn’t a dream at all.
I close my eyes to the faint sun streaming in through the curtains, replaying the scene in my mind.
Her smell, her taste, the way she felt when I drove my cock inside. So tight, warm, it was like coming home. I saw the side of her I always wanted to see, the side that was buried under all her layers, coming apart like the petals of the roses as they crushed beneath her. I don’t think I’ll ever smell roses the same way again.
Fuck. That was real.
It happened.
Art come to life.
Granted, I didn’t get that much work done, but that’s hardly the matter. The work will come easy now, I know it will, now that she’s given me permission to sculpt her. As long as I can keep my hands off her and on the clay.
That won’t be easy, not when she looks the way she does, not when she takes me in with those baby blues of hers, looking at me sometimes like I’m a god.
At the very least, I felt like a god last night.
I get up, deciding to take a shower, thoughts of Grace rolling through me until I have to get off again. It’s been a long time since I last slept with someone, and now my body is firing on all cylinders, a slumbering beast that’s been awakened.
When I step out of the shower, I get changed, and glance at the time. It’s seven thirty, perhaps a little too early to wake Grace. After we fucked in the studio, we ended up going our separate ways to sleep. I could tell that she had a lot on her mind, and I wasn’t going to push it, especially as Vanni could easily catch us with the other in bed. The boy doesn’t knock when it comes to me.
But when I head down the hall to her room, her door is already open a crack.
“Grace?” I call out quietly before pushing it open.
Her bed is made, the room empty.
Hmmm.
I head downstairs, checking the study, then go to the kitchen.
No sign of her.
I step out the back, thinking she might be in the pool for some reason, when I see her sitting at the veranda, her back to me. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her up this early and it makes me uneasy somehow. As if last night disrupted something.
“Buongiorno,” I say to her as I walk across the grass, hands in my pockets.
She turns to look at me, giving me a quick smile, before focusing back on her laptop.
“Uh oh,” I say, coming over to her. “I’ve interrupted something.”
I put my hand on her neck and lean in for a kiss, but she instantly jerks her head back.
Feels like I’ve been kicked in the stomach, to be honest.
“Sorry, sorry,” she says softly, eyes darting everywhere. “I just … Vanni could see us.”