Read Escaped Artist (Untamed #3) Online

Authors: Victoria Green,Jinsey Reese

Escaped Artist (Untamed #3) (11 page)

“Nope. Not yet.” I shook my head, stretched across the bed, and hooked my fingers in the waistband of her panties. Instinctively, her hips rolled forward, letting me peel off the red lace.

Any other day, I’d be ripping it off. With my hands, my teeth, whatever. But today wasn’t any other day. Today, I had to make her understand just how fucking perfect every part of her was.

I took my time, reveling in her nakedness, caressing the light tan of her creamy skin, drinking in her sweet, intoxicating scent. I almost lost it when my hand grazed her core, the evidence of her arousal glistening on my fingertips. My eyes never leaving hers, I licked her off of me, savoring her taste, coveting more of it.

I was an addict, too, after all.

And a single taste of Ree wasn’t enough.

I craved more of her. I wanted to devour all of her.

Piece by piece. Kiss by kiss. Touch by touch.

I leaned forward so I could start the feast at her mouth, pressing my lips against hers as I wound my fingers through her golden mane. She responded without hesitation, her body melding against mine, her arms wrapping around my back to first tug my shirt over my head, then pull me even closer.

“I’m never letting you go,” she whispered against my mouth, each word punctuated by a kiss. “Never again, Dare. I promise.” Her nails raked over my back, digging in with more possessiveness than I had ever seen from her before.

Ree’s need was palpable—a tangible thing I could practically reach out and grasp. It hummed through her every kiss, vibrated off her lips in waves, and cascaded into my waiting mouth, filling me.

She whimpered when I broke contact, but her breath quickened again as I began gently kissing up her jawline. I paused at her ear, so she could hear my own ragged breathing, so she could witness the effect she had on me. I bit down gently on the lobe, pulling on it softly, coercing a moan from deep within her.

Alternating between my lips and teeth, I worked my way down her neck and across her chest. Cupping her breast with my right hand, I circled her nipple with my tongue, playfully flicking and licking my way to the sensitive peak as my left thumb and forefinger teased its twin.

Before long, Ree was gasping and arching her back, pressing with greater urgency against my lips. When my mouth finally latched on, she cried out and dug her nails into my back. The already tight bud turned hard between my lips as I nipped at it with my teeth. Her gasps grew to sensual, throaty moans as her body quaked beneath me.

I continued to lick and bite at her breasts, slowly trailing my hand down her abdomen, across her stomach, along the edges of her hips, claiming the beautiful curves I had sketched just moments before. The instant I slid my hand over the top of her thigh, I felt her knees part.

Tempting me, taunting me, teasing me.

Unable to hold back my need for her any longer, I slid my hand between her legs.

Shit
. Already soaked. “You are so fucking beautiful, Ree.”

I cupped her with my palm and rubbed along her soft folds before dipping into her heat. One finger. Then another. First slowly—
excruciatingly
—then gradually faster and harder.

Ree cried out, then threw a quick glance at the door. “Oh, god. I don’t think THIS is allowed here,” she said, her eyes gleaming wickedly. “You’re going to get me in trouble, Dare.”

“Think of this as physical therapy.” I kissed my way down her stomach and grinned up at her as I settled between her legs. “My contribution to the program.”

With my fingers rhythmically pulsing inside her, I slowly licked my way to her clit. Circling it with my tongue, I flicked the sensitive bundle of nerves before claiming it with my lips and teeth. Ree screamed my name, then quickly clamped her hand over her mouth, shaking with laughter.

Her happiness was so beautiful…and such a fucking turn on.

“Keep smiling, Ree,” I said, licking slowly, watching her arousal spike. “I don’t ever want you to lose that happy smile.” Her mouth formed a sensual
O
as she moaned, her hips rocking against my mouth. “Except when you’re doing
that
.” She bit her lip and let out a pleased groan that went straight to my cock. “And that. That is allowed, too.”

Holy hell.

“Oh, god.” Her fingers tugged at my hair. “What if someone hears and comes in?”

“We have an excuse,” I said between tastes. “I’m an artist. I paint nudes. You’re…
posing
for me.” I let the words vibrate against her soft skin before adding, “Now lie back, relax, and let me fucking paint you. With my tongue.”

The threat of getting caught quickly forgotten, Ree begged me not to stop. Over and over again, she pleaded with me…harder…faster…MORE. Increasing the pressure of my tongue, I savored the taste of her, the soft feel of her velvety skin, her sweet scent that radiated from every pore. My dick throbbed against the denim of my jeans while I coaxed her higher and higher, stroking and licking her into a frenzy, feeling like I would explode at any moment.

Ree tensed, and I felt her approaching her peak. So I gave her more. Harder. Faster. Relentlessly, madly, deeply. I was making love to her. With my fingers and mouth. And it was hot as hell.

Her breathing grew ragged and my name became a sexy moan on her lips as she tumbled over the edge, her legs trembling while the orgasm rocked through her body. Her sweet release spilled over into my mouth, and I continued to drink every single spasm from her, wanting to prolong her pleasure for as long as she’d let me.

Just when I thought she was thoroughly depleted, she looked down at me with wild eyes, threaded her fingers through my hair, and tugged. “I need you,” she said, taking my bottom lip between her teeth. “More of you.” Her fingers found my zipper and released me.
“All of you.” Her hand wrapped around my cock. “Just you.” Slowly, she began moving. “
Please
, Dare.”

FUCK.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

Pleasure ripped through me, setting my world on fire, scorching my mind until all common sense was burned to a crisp.

Breathe, Dare. Fucking breathe.

I didn’t know how much more I could take. I had to have her. Right fucking now.

Hooking my hand under her leg, I lifted her so that she was straddling me, my rock-hard erection pressing impatiently against her. She moaned, kissing me urgently while grinding against me, her nails digging into my thighs, spurring on my need. I lifted my hips, and she rose to her knees, guiding me into her opening.

Jaw tight, teeth gritted, I filled her.

Inch by tight inch. Groan by hard groan.

All the while, I focused on her and only her. Those beautiful eyes swimming with lust. That soft smile playing across her lips. The erotic curves of her body.

The piece of art that was Ree.

“Oh, god.” Her head fell back and she practically sang my name as her muscles contracted around me, taking me in further, pulling me deeper.

My hands slid over her ass before settling on her hips, directing her to set the pace she needed. I surrendered control, worshipping her as she rode me, savoring this moment.

I wanted to show her what it meant to be loved.

She deserved love.

So much fucking love.

“I don’t ever want this to stop,” she said as if she’d read my mind.

“Then keep moving, baby.”

She pulsed up and down, first slowly, then faster and faster until we were both breathing heavily. Giving her full control of this moment was a test of will.

Her legs quivered, and her eyes rolled back in her head, the air around us thick and heavy with sex and freedom. Every sultry moan spilling from her lips confirmed we were each other’s missing half.

Two parts. One whole.

One hand still on her hip, my other climbed to her chest, claiming her heartbeat as I possessed her from the inside out. The move—combined with my length breaching a nerve-filled territory—pushed her over the edge with the sweetest sound I’d ever heard, and I exploded with her, pleasure engulfing us as she broke apart, crumbling against me, trusting me to cushion her fall. Just like she had that very first night we’d spent together.

I pushed her hair out of her face as she continued to tremble on my chest. “You know what else I see when I look at you?”

“A thoroughly satisfied girlfriend?” We were speaking in pants, our breaths one and the same.

Girlfriend
. We’d never used that word before. Ree was beyond
girlfriend
for me.

That realization was like a blast of endorphins to the heart.

“I see a phoenix,” I said. “A woman who rose from the ashes and is going to conquer the entire fucking world one day.”

thirteen

T
wo weeks later, I was on day twenty-seven without Ree and my own detox was failing miserably. There was no way in hell I could get her out of my system.

Nor did I want to.

Not anymore.

Though we spoke on the phone nightly and I drove out to visit every Sunday, we hadn’t been able to sneak in a repeat performance in her room. I missed the feel of her, the smell of her, the thrill of her mere presence.

And I missed drawing her.

Once I’d put pencil to paper again after so many weeks without it, I was going crazy to get back to my art. I hadn’t said anything to her yet, but was hoping that maybe once she was out and I was done with my commitment at the tattoo shop, we could head back to Paris together, pick up where we’d left off.

Still, I couldn’t complain. The time she spent at the facility was paying off. Slowly, but surely she was becoming my true Ree—the girl I’d seen glimpses of and fallen hard for. She’d always been there, but had too often been eclipsed by all-consuming pain. Now the sadness in her eyes was ebbing, giving way to strength and determination.

And happiness.

This last week, instead of being submerged in the darkness of the past and talking about the mindfuck that was her family, she’d focused on looking toward a brighter future. Her dream of discovering talent and covering the walls of her own gallery with art was no longer just a fantasy. She now saw it as a reality, a real possibility. And I was going to do whatever it took to help her realize it.

Running with Leo had become a morning ritual of sorts. It relieved some of my tension. Not to mention, it got me away from the constant orgy inside the house. It was as if every member of No Man’s Land—save for Leo who had a girl back in L.A.—was trying to fuck someone out of their mind. Two or three times night.

It didn’t help that rock stars apparently gave zero flying fucks about noise levels. “The louder, the better” was the motto around here. Listening to what I could only assume they’d call “research” for their
Nailed to the Wall
album was driving me nuts.

Not because I cared that they were screwing their way through all of Amsterdam. And not even because Synner kept sending half-naked chicks to my bed in search of something I had no intention of giving them. It was the knowledge that the only girl in the entire city I wanted was out of reach.

Today’s three mile run had to hold me over just until tomorrow.

Tomorrow, when Ree returned to me.

Finally.

“Mind if I hit the shower first?” Leo asked as soon as we returned. “Indie is going to have my balls if I’m late to the studio again. She will literally chop them off, string them into a necklace, and wear them around her neck where Syn’s currently hang.”

“Thanks for the unnecessary visual,” I said with a groan. “Yeah, go ahead. Defend your boys.”

“Thanks, man. You’re a nut-saver.” He clapped me on the back as I headed over to the fridge in search of a bottle of water.

I made it halfway across the living room before a muffled shout from Dash’s bedroom stopped me in my tracks.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” The woman’s voice was high-pitched and laced with a strong Irish accent. “Good lord. FINE! I’m getting out, you arse!”

His door burst open and a tall, curvy chick in her mid-twenties tornadoed through the living room. Long, auburn hair whirled about her as she grabbed her leather jacket and shoes, then slammed the front door.

Dash stumbled out of his room in just his black jeans—all six-feet three-inches of him looming in the doorway—looking like he’d just seen a ghost. “Fucking fuck!” He smashed the doorframe with his fist and stalked over to the kitchen.

Following closely behind, I said, “What the hell did you do to her?”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck...” He shook his head, and went straight for the coffee, the string of curses growing longer with each passing second.

“Dash…what did you do?”

He let out something that sounded like a half-groan, half-moan. “I crossed a boundary I shouldn’t have.”

“Her ass?” I raised my eyebrows and leaned against the fridge door.

“No,” he said, gripping the kitchen counter, his eyes fixed on the coffee pot. “Her
hair
.”

I reached over and poured him a cup because he clearly needed one and wasn’t moving to do it himself. He just kept cursing and shaking his head as his knuckles turned whiter and whiter.

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