My Dad's Bestfriend

Evelyn

"What do you have in mind?" He gently pulled my top over my head, his fingers brushing against my shoulders, quickening my heartbeat. It was nearly impossible for me to divert my gaze from him; there was something enchanting about him that held my attention captive.

"You mean what I want to paint?" I asked, hesitating.

Honestly, I had no clue what he meant. As he had mentioned, we were going to explore both, and I couldn't discern which he was referring to at this moment. All I could think about were things too intense to be related to painting.

A deep, masculine chuckle escaped his lips, and he suppressed a grin, "Yes, Evelyn. Tell me what's on your mind; what moment do you want to lay on this canvas?" He turned me around to face the blank

canvas.

As I began to lose myself in thought, struggling to decide where to begin, he had a knack for further distracting my mind. Crouching down behind me, he gradually lowered my shorts.

A soft gasp escaped my lips, and I was on the verge of turning around, but he held me firmly, his hands settling back on my hips, "Decide what you want to paint, Evelyn."

God, damn it! How in the world was I supposed to make a decision like this? All I could think about was him and sex. He showed no signs of relenting. If only I had the faintest idea of what he had in mind!

"I haven't... haven't painted in a while. I'm not sure what I want to create," I admitted, my voice trembling. My palms were sweaty, and goosebumps covered my skin, every inch of it. Feeling Jacob's lips curling into a smirk whilst he traced his nose along the back of my thigh, said it well- he was well aware of my nervousness but then again, that was exactly what he wanted.

He liked making me nervous, and he clearly enjoyed these reactions. In fact, he seemed to revel in them.

"Paint your desires," he suggested, his words sending shockwaves to my core. My thoughts were a jumbled mess, "I know you have many. So, paint one that you live for." And this time he pulled down my panties.

"Jacob..."

"Shh...." He came up, his nimble fingers unhooking my bra and sliding down the last piece of clothing from my body, "Focus, Evelyn. Focus."

How am I supposed to concentrate with him whispering my name like that? My heart raced, thudding loudly in my chest, threatening to give away my inner turmoil.

His lips gently brushed against my neck, trailing a path down to my collarbone and shoulder, slow enough to leave me trembling.

I closed my eyes shut, my breathing quivering as his lips continued their mesmerizing dance, stirring a whirlwind of emotions within me. His hands cupped my breasts, and his index finger traced a path around my nipple, leaving a strange sensation gathering at my core.

"What do you desire, Evelyn?" His warm breath grazed the sensitive spot behind my ear; a rush of warmth flooded between my legs.

The answer was clear, but it was difficult to admit. It was hard to stand my ground, to say his name, even though we both knew the truth. Yes! We both knew it, so why was it so difficult?

Drawing in a deep breath, I bent down slowly to retrieve the brush and paint palette. I caught the faint sound of him cursing under his breath.

I couldn't help but wonder how long any of us would maintain our focus on this painting endeavor.

As I straightened up, he slipped his arms around me, pulling me close. The closeness sent my mind spinning, but I had to paint-that's what we had decided. Paint and fuck.

"Burnt Umber?" he asked, his lips grazing my earlobe. My breath caught instantly.

Oh, my...

"Yeah," I replied hesitantly, trying to compose myself. "That will do."

Of course, he noticed the change in my breathing. In fact, he seemed to be paying attention to every detail, and he was clearly enjoying it.

"Okay," he said as he grabbed the tube and squeezed the paint onto the palette, "Any other colours?"

Oh, hell, there were plenty of them.

Fuck! Pull yourself together, Evelyn!

"Just the basics," I murmured, my words barely audible even to myself.

"The basics," he echoed, "Understood."

I wanted to ask him to stop speaking in that tone, but my goodness, his deep voice sounded too enticing. I had never engaged in hushed whispers with anyone before, and if not for today, I wouldn't have known that whispers could ignite so much fire, with colours so vivid.

Suddenly, I felt something cold touching my chest. I nearly flinched at the unexpected sensation. However, as my eyes travelled downward, I discovered Jacob's left hand smearing the Burnt Umber colour on my chest. His fingers moved tantalisingly, brushing across my skin as though they were painting strokes.

"You can create your art, and I can create mine," he whispered into my ear. I could have sworn that I nearly came apart at that moment. There was something about this moment and his touch that was intoxicating. I had always struggled to maintain my composure around him, but today was different. Everything went beyond control.

He was both mending and unravelling me simultaneously. It didn't make sense, but that's precisely what was wrong with me-my words couldn't capture it, but the emotions were simply indescribable. He poured the other colors onto the palette-red, yellow, and blue.

"White. I need white too," I uttered, My throat felt dry as a desert.

"Oh, my bad."

Wait! Why did it not sound genuine? Did he intentionally neglect the white one? I couldn't find a logical answer until my eyes spotted the paint tube on the floor.

Well...

Before I could muster a response, Jacob was already bending down, grabbing the tube. Slowly and slyly, as he began to stand up, he traced a path between my thighs with his right hand.

I gasped and pressed my thighs together, but he advanced regardless. His hand landed on my wet heat, and as he straightened up, he pulled me closer with that grip. My back collided against his front, and I blinked, looking at him with my lips parted in astonishment.

"If I were an artist, I would make you my canvas," he growled, barely in control as he pressed his nose against my neck. Using his free hand, he dipped his fingers into the paint palette, and this time, his fingertips danced over my belly, descending until they reached my lower abdomen.

A moan escaped my lips as his fingers brushed against my clit. I couldn't even clench my thighs at this point because his hand was right I ween them.

"Paint, Evelyn," he chuckled, his colored hand reaching to wrap his fingers around my throat.

The position was scandalous, but both of us were no strangers to scandal.

With trembling hands, I dipped the brush into the paint, creating the outlines of the man who now had his hand between my thighs.

I had just made a few strokes on the canvas when Jacob decided to intensify my turmoil by slipping his fingers inside me. Slowly, they began to move in and out of me, creating a slow, tormenting rhythm that drove me wild. The position allowed him to maintain constant pressure on my clit.

Fuck it!

"Oh my..." I threw my head back onto his shoulder, and the art supplies almost slipped from my hands.

"What are you painting, baby?" He asked, biting my earlobe. "What is it that you desire?"

"You..." I breathed out, barely able to speak. "It's you."

His body froze at my response. He fell silent for a few seconds before he spoke up, "Then paint me. I'm waiting to see what image of me you have in mind."

"I have many...too many to even finish painting in one lifetime," my words trembled, ending in a quiet gasp as he curled his fingers inside me. "But I'll paint one that I always want to remember."

"And what is that?"

"You'll have to wait to find out, and... I have to at least finish the painting, right?"

Of course, he understood the meaning behind my words. It was my way of asking him to go easy because it was utterly impossible for me to paint with him stimulating me like this.

"I'm sure you'd be able to finish the painting like this, Evelyn. Your body can handle much more than you know," a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "So, don't worry."

So, that was a 'no'. He had no intention of going easy on me.

Biting down on my bottom lip, I began once again. But Jacob, having his own twisted ways of taking my breath away, hit some sensitive spots inside and grazed his teeth on my shoulder. The faster I worked, the harder he went on me. Each paint stroke was rewarded with something unexpected.

"You're gonna kill me today," I breathed out, my hands shaking and barely able to hold onto the paintbrush and palette.

"No, baby, I'm gonna make you feel alive," he brushed his lips on my jaw, his fingers speeding up, my hips jerked, legs trembled, and eyes closed shut.

I was already close.

"Paint if you want to come, Evie."

Holy. This was the first time he ever used that nickname!

Before I even knew it, I was, once again, mixing and laying colors on the canvas. The eyes-I could already see Jacob's glimpse in them, and damn! It was even harder not to come apart then and there.

A few more seconds passed, and Jacob's fingers sped up. He rubbed my clit with his thumb, earning a loud moan from me.

I gripped the brush tighter, almost failing to keep my balance. If it weren't for his hands holding me, I would have fallen on the ground, straight on my face.

"Jacob, stop..." I clenched my thighs together, unable to take it anymore.

"But you don't want me to stop," he let out a throaty laugh, his chest vibrating against my back.

Of course, I didn't. I wanted a release, but at the same time, I didn't know how long I could take it.

"Let me hear your sweet sounds, Evie," he whispered, pinching my nipple between his fingers. "Come for me."

Before I knew it, my walls squeezed around his fingers, my hips jerked, and I screamed his name as I came apart, "Jacob!"

Holy shit! He definitely knew how to control my body.

"Oh my god..." I breathed out a sigh, leaning against Jacob who now, lifting his fingers, sucked them into his mouth.

"I will never get tired of this taste," he murmured before kissing me, and I kissed him back, our tongues dueling in a fiery kiss. The kiss quickly heated up, and Jacob turned me around, pulling my naked body as close as possible.

A second later, he lifted me by my thighs, his hands squeezing my butt, causing me to gasp into the kiss.

"We still have a painting to finish, don't we?" I asked as we broke the kiss.

Lust had his eyes shaded under its dark shadows. I could see the intense desire burning in them.

"Maybe it can wait for an hour," he looked at me with hunger.

"Okay," and I made our lips meet once again.