“So, you like the piece?” I wrap my arms around his neck, needing to pull him closer to my body. It’s only been a few days that we’ve been apart, but they drug on miserably without me being able to touch him like this. If I didn’t have the distraction of getting the job with Camden and finding this studio, I don’t know how I would’ve spent the miserable minutes without him.
Never again. I promise myself. I know there’s times where we’re bound to be apart. He owns a jet for a reason. He has to travel a lot, but I’ll make sure he calls me any chance he has. Or at least that I’ll still get dirty emails from his company email while he’s away.
I just know I never want to go days without speaking to him again. It allowed me the clarity I needed to know how deeply I was in love with him, but I never need that space again.
Beck continues to pepper kisses over my jaw, my neck, my throat. He slides his work shirt off my shoulder, biting down on the tender flesh of my shoulder. I laugh, my fingers clutching the fabric of the shirt he wears. “Beck,” I scold. “You didn’t answer me if you liked it.”
His fingers are quick at unbuttoning the shirt of his I wear. “I love you baby, but the question is a little unnecessary.”
I frown, my back arching on its own accord as his hands push open the button up and run down the bare skin of my side. “How so?”
He takes a step back, leaving me to stand in front of the desk alone. It feels cold without his touch. “Because of course I fucking love it. In fact, if I wasn’t so fucking proud of you for getting into the best gallery in New York, I’d say fuck Camden and selfishly keep the art for myself.”
My eyes narrow at him as he smirks back at me. “What?” he asks, feigning innocence. “I’m selfish, Violet. You know this.”
“It’s going on display.” I take a step backwards, propping my hip against the desk.
He takes a step toward me. And then another, all while keeping that cocky grin I’m so damn in love with on his perfect lips. “Yes it is. And I’ll be the first damn person in line to see it.”
Beck closes the distance between us. He reaches up to open the button up, revealing my bare breasts.
“If I learn that Ezra saw you wearing this, I might fucking kill him,” he notes. He traces his knuckle up my ribcage with the lightest of touches, causing my skin to prickle with desire.
“I haven’t seen another human in a day,” I answer honestly. “I don’t even know what time it is. I locked myself away in here, only coming out to take care of my basic needs.”
His hot breath hits my neck as his hands find my hips. He lifts me effortlessly, setting me on the corner of the desk. He picks up the canvas and sets it carefully to the side, all while keeping his lust-filled eyes pinned on me.
Beck pushes my thighs open, focusing on my center. He runs his fingertip over the fabric of my panties. “Speaking of needs.” His voice is like gravel, it is muddled with passion. “Did you take care of yourself, baby? Or do you need me?”
My hips buck to try and get friction from his featherlight touch. “I didn’t. I didn’t want to, knowing things weren’t settled between us. I just wanted you.”
He stares at me hungrily. His tongue comes out to wet his lips. “Looks like I have some making up to do.”
I nod enthusiastically. “True. You’ve got some apologizing to do…”
Beck keeps eye contact with me. Slowly, he lowers to one knee and then the other. With me on the desk and him on the ground, he’s now perfectly lined up with the part of me that’s aching for him. “I know just how to say I’m sorry, baby. I’m down on my knees for you. Ready to apologize the best way I know how.”
“Maybe I should make you beg for it.” My head falls backward when he presses his thumb against my clit. Even with the layer of fabric between us, it feels amazing. He knows exactly where to touch me to have my eyes closing in pleasure.
“Can I please eat that sweet little pussy of yours, baby?”
I moan—loudly. His fingertips hook in the sides of my panties. He pulls them down my legs agonizingly slow. By the time he’s throwing them off to the side, I’m already wet and panting in need for him.
I muster my last bit of wits, loving having him grovel on his knees for me too much to stop just yet.
“Fuck, you’re so turned on I can smell you,” he notes. His fingertips press into my inner thighs as he keeps my legs wide open for him.
“Can I make you feel good now? Tell me yes. Tell me I can apologize by making you come all over my face. I’m fucking starved for you.”
My resolve breaks. My head nods up and down eagerly as I push my legs open even wider. In the process, my knee knocks into a half-eaten package of Twizzlers, the package falling to the ground with a loud smack.
To my dismay, his focus goes from between my legs to the package of Twizzlers on the ground. I’m irrationally pissed off at a package of candy, mad that it’s taken his attention from me.
“When you said you’ve been taking care of your needs, please tell me it meant eating food with actual nutritional value and not these terrible things.” He picks up one of the red swirled candies, the piece hanging limply in his hand as he shakes it in the air.
I roll my lips together, trying to hide the smile on my face. “I think I ate a sandwich at one point.”
An aggravated growl passes through his lips. He sits back on his haunches, pinning me with a disapproving stare. “Margo, you can’t live on Twizzlers. Plus, they’re disgusting. I don’t know how you love those things.”
Shrugging, I run my hand over the inside of my thigh to bring his attention back to what he’d started. I need to feel him desperately. I’m close to promising him I’d never have the candy again if he’d just seal his mouth to my clit and ensure I see stars.
“They’re delicious,” I argue. “Maybe you should try them.”
He shakes his head, looking down at the candy in his hand. “Nev—” His words break off randomly. Slowly, a smirk spreads over his lips. “Well, maybe I do know how to make them more enjoyable.”
My eyebrows knit together on my forehead as I try to figure out what the hell he’s saying.
“Can we maybe stop talking and hating on my favorite candy and you know get back to what we started?”
His lack of a response has me opening my mouth to keep talking. “Less talking, more licking,” I demand.
“Whatever you say,” he drawls. Thank god he rises once again, his hot breath hitting my inner thigh.
My eyes flutter shut in eager anticipation of finally feeling his mouth against me.
The lightest of pressure around my knee has my eyes widening. I open them to find his mouth lined up perfectly with me, all while he traces the fucking Twizzler against my sensitive flesh.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
He focuses on watching the path he traces with the candy. “You told me I should try it. So I’m going to try it.”
Before I can ask him what his words mean, he circles my swollen clit with the end of the candy.
“I didn’t mean—” My words get cut off when he rubs it through my wetness, coating it in me. I watch him, way more turned on than I should be, when he sticks the Twizzler in his mouth. His teeth dig into it, tearing a piece of the vine—the part that he just coated in me—and begins to chew.