Sun drenches my garden. Skin glows hot under straw hat. Naked, sprawled on lounge chair. Book open, pages blurring in heat. Heart steady, pulse lazy. André’s gone. Silence wraps me.
Voice shatters peace. “Anyone home?” Thomas bursts in. Freezes. Eyes lock on my bare body. Breasts rise with sharp breath. Thighs part slightly. His gaze devours. Cheeks burn.
The Fever
“Thomas! What the hell?” Book clamps over lap. Too late. He ogles. Casual, but hungry. Heart hammers now. Skin prickles. He steps closer. Air thickens.
Talk flows. André’s absence. His paintings. Me in them. Auburn hair, curves idealized. He admits it. Straight. “You’re my ideal model. My dream woman.” Pulse races. Throat dry. Heat pools low.
Photos. He pulls camera. I nod. Why? His eyes. Professional fire. Poses in garden. Naked stride past trees. Sun licks sweat from back. Click-click. Body alive. Nipples harden in breeze. His breath quickens.
Confession spills. Loves me sixteen months. Silent muse. André blocks him. Questions probe. Couple satisfying? No. Prefer lasting fire? Yes. His hands on hips. Skin ignites. Fingers warm, firm. Shiver racks me.
Bodies press. Chest to chest. Heart thuds against his. bulge presses pubis. Hard. Urgent. Eyes burn. “You’re mine,” he growls. Lips crash. Tongues tangle. Wet, fierce. Knees buckle. World spins.
The Blaze
Clothes shed? No need. I’m bare. He strips fast. Skin on skin. Heat explodes. Hands roam. Palms cup ass. Pull tight. Sweat slicks us. Breath gasps. Pulse roars in ears.
Lawn cradles us. Grass bites back. He enters slow. Then wild. Thrusts deep. Hips slam. Skin slaps wet. Nails dig shoulders. Moans rip free. Heart pounds frantic. Muscles clench. Fire consumes.
Waves crash. Climax rips. Body arches. Shudders endless. He groans. Fills me. Pulse syncs. Collapse together. Sweat pools. Breath ragged.
Afterglow lingers. Skin still fever-hot. Fingers trace curves. Heart slows. His lips brush neck. “My muse forever.” Peace settles. Unique bond. Garden witnesses our blaze. André fades. Thomas owns me now.
Months later. His studio. Final brushstroke. Naked me dominates canvas. Larger, bolder. He embraces from behind. Love whispers. Body melts. Fear? Passion devours it. Rare fire. Mine.