X Art Gianna Morning Tryst ❲2024❳

“How so?”

Later, much later, they lay in a tangle of sweat-soaked sheets. He was drawing lazy circles on her stomach. She was staring at the ceiling, a small, satisfied smile on her face.

There were no words for a while. Just soft gasps, the whisper of his name on her lips, the way her back arched as he kissed a path down her stomach. He learned her all over again—the hitch in her breath when he touched her ribs, the way she pulled him closer when he teased. x art gianna morning tryst

She smiled, a secret, slow curve of her lips. She heard the sheets rustle, the soft pad of his feet on the cool floor. Then his hands were on her shoulders, sliding down her arms, wrapping around her from behind. His chest was warm against her back. His lips found the spot just below her ear.

Turning her head on the pillow, she studied his profile. Strong jaw, dark lashes against his cheeks, a small scar near his eyebrow he’d gotten surfing in Portugal. This was their third… meeting? Tryst? She didn’t like labels. She liked the way his hands felt on her hip bones, like he was anchoring himself to something real. “How so

“I was painting you in my head,” he murmured. “The light on your shoulder. The way your hair fell across the pillow.”

Gianna turned her head, looking at him. The artist. The morning light. The promise in his dark eyes. There were no words for a while

The first thing Gianna became aware of was the warmth. It pooled through the sheer linen curtains, turning the white sheets into a river of liquid gold. The second thing was the weight of an arm draped across her waist, possessive even in sleep.

She slipped out from under his arm. The air was cool on her bare skin. She didn’t reach for the silk robe draped over the chair. Instead, she walked to the open French doors, the morning breeze making her shiver as it kissed the curve of her spine, the back of her thighs.