The Man in the Painting Read Online Flora Ferrari

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Insta-Love, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 46619 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 233(@200wpm)___ 186(@250wpm)___ 155(@300wpm)
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Getting her signals, I pay for the bill, and we leave the restaurant. We take a sultry walk through the neighboring park, holding hands like lovers often do.

We stop to admire the fountain in the park with its mood lighting and the gentle waters spouting up and circulating in a synchronized dance. Melody tightens her grip, turns to me, and places one of the most passionate kisses I can remember.

I return the enthusiasm of her passion and ask her if we should head home which she replies, “Yes.”

The drive is short, and we barely make it to the house, acting like starstruck lovers who haven’t seen each other in months.

My hands roam her body, touching every curve and dimple of her body. I begin to remove her dress when she scurries away upstairs. I follow and find her in the bedroom doorway, only wearing her lacey undergarments.

God, is she gorgeous, more now than when we first met. The hardness in my pants is quite evident. Melody looks, winks, and turns toward the bed removing her bra and dropping it on the floor.

Such a tease.

I quickly begin to undress, leaving nothing on but a dick that is so hard that it needs immediate relief. I crawl to Melody on the bed, who opens herself to me.

I oblige by kissing up her thighs and around her lace panties, teasing her moist area with my tongue. Finally, I pull the fabric aside and find she is totally wet and aching for relief herself.

I move my tongue inside, finding her special spot, and gently lap at it. Her body rises with each lick, and I can feel her clit getting more swollen. I pull it in between my lips, gently then forcefully sucking, while using my finger to arouse her inside.

Her sex clamps down on my finger, letting me know that her orgasm is near. I begin to suck her harder and add another finger inside. Melody begins to buck against my fingers and my lips.

She grabs onto the bedsheets in the throes of her orgasm, which seems to go on forever. Her legs tremble from the shock waves edging throughout her body.

I crawl up her shaking body, trailing my tongue on her body on the way up to her lips.

We tangle in the most passionate kiss. I let her taste what I have tasted and loved.

I need to be inside her, I can’t wait, and I guide my rock-hard member into her waiting sex.

I gasp at her tightness. she’s still reeling from her first orgasm.

Melody’s body jumps when she feels me inside, and I begin to thrust with all I have within me. Her warmth, her juices, and my juices, and the two of us in perfect rhythm – euphoria.

I can feel myself getting ready to unload, and I begin to thrust even harder and faster until my seed explodes like a volcano.

I love this woman more than life itself, and I find with each passing year, our love for each other gets even stronger.

There is no life without Melody and our children.

FIFTEEN YEARS LATER

Melody

I watch Abram sniffle as he delicately holds our little bundle of joy against his chest, Mariana Elizabeth Harden... She’d come as a pleasant surprise when we thought we wouldn’t be having any more kids after the twins.

She was our gift, and we’re all happy to welcome her to our family.

“Dad is such a cry baby,” Melissa, our first daughter, says with a dramatic sigh.

“Leave the Dad alone,” Dylan, her twin brother chides. “He’s just happy to finally hold his little princess in his arms.”

“If she’s the princess, what am I?” Melissa asks, rolling her eyes at Dylan.

“Maybe an evil witch,” Dylan says, sticking out his tongue at his sister. “Jealous much?”

“That’s enough you two,” I say with a soft sigh. “It’s hard to believe you are both fifteen and still continue with these childish squabbles. It’s the same way your dad cried when he held you two in his arms as babies.”

“I can imagine,” Melissa says, shaking her head at her father, who seems oblivious to everything else around him apart from the baby in his arms.

“To think he once told me he didn’t know how to cry,” I say with a fond smile. “Believe it or not, your dad used to be... hard.”

“What?” Melissa scoffs. “I saw him wiping his eyes when Dylan scored the winning goal at his last game of the season.”

“Do you remember the stage play you participated in in middle school?” Dylan asks his sister. “Dad wouldn’t stop sniffing even though you had no lines.”

We all laugh at the memory. It’s been over fifteen years with Abram, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the world than where I am now.

Abram showed me what it truly means to love and be loved.


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