Rejected Luna Queen

Nesta’s POV

As I painted, lost in the rhythm and flow of my movements, a familiar scent watted through the air. It was faint at first, but then it hit me with undeniable clarity arousal.

My brush halted mid–stroke as my body heated up, my pulse quickening at the realisation. It was Nolan. He was aroused, and the intensity of it was palpable, enveloping me like a warm, intoxicating blinker,

The thought of him getting aroused just by watching me paint sent a thrill through my body. I felt a shiver run d ny spine, and suddenly, the canvas in front of me seemed less important

My mind raced, and I found myself struggling to focus on the brush in my hand. The colours blurred together, the shapes lost their definition. I didn’t even know what I was painting anymore.

My heart pounded in my chest, each beat choing the desire I felt growing within me. I bit my lower lip, trying to steady my breath, but it was no use,

The air was thick with tension, charged with the unspoken connection between us. My thoughts were a tangled mess of paint and longing, and I couldn’t help but steal a glance at Nolan.

He stood there, watching me with an intensity that made my knees weak. His eyes were dark, filled with an emotion that mirrored my own.

The way be looked at me, like I was the only thing in the world that mattered, sent waves of heat coursing through my veins. My core tightened at the thought. Fucking hell.

I wanted to feel his hands on me, to lose myself in his touch, but I couldn’t move. I was rooted to the spot, caught between my need to finish the painting and my overwhelming desire for him.

The scent of his arousal was intoxicating, a heady mix of musk and need that clouded my senses. I took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind, but it only made things worse.

My body responded to his desire with an intensity that surprised me, my own arousal building in response. There is a reason I am pregnant for this man. I forced myself to focus on the canvas, but it was no use. My thoughts kept drifting back to Nolan, to the way he was watching me, to the way his presence filled the room.

I could feel the heat of his gaze on my skin, and it was all I could do to keep my hands from trembling.

With a frustrated sigh, I set my brush down and turned to face him. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still.

The air between us crackled with unspoken desire, a silent acknowledgment of the tension that had been building between us.

“Nolan…” I began, my voice barely more than a whisper.

He took a step forward, closing the distance between us, and I felt my resolve crumbling. The way he looked at me, the intensity of his gaze, left no doubt in my mind about what he wanted.

And Goddess help me, I wanted it too.

The painting forgotten, I moved towards him, drawn by the irresistible pull of his desire.

As I reached him, his hand camp to cup my cheek, his touch sending shivers down my spine. I leaned into h alm, closing my eyes and letting the warmth of his skin seep into me.

In that moment, nothing else mattered. The world outside ceased to exist, and all that remained was the two of us, caught in the throes of an undeniable attraction.

The tension that had been simmering between us finally reached a boiling point, and I knew there was no turning back.

We stood there, inches apart, the air between us thick with unspoken desire. Nolan’s hand on my cheek was warm, his touch sending shivers down my spine.

Our eyes locked, and I saw the same need reflected in his gaze. Slowly, he leaned in, and our lips met in a tentative kiss, soft and exploring at first.

But as the seconds passed, the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent and hungry.

Nolan’s hands roamed down my body, pulling me closer as if he couldn’t bear to be apart. I responded in kind, my fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer still.

We stumbled backwards, our movements clumsy and desperate, until we fell against the easel. The canvas I had been painting tipped over, splashing paint everywhere, but neither of us cared.

The cool paint smeared across our skin, the vivid colours a stark contrast to the heat between us. Nolan’s lips moved from my mouth to my neck, leaving a trail of fiery kisses that made me gasp.

I could feel his breath, hot and heavy, against my skin as he whispered my name. His hands were everywhere, touching, exploring, claiming.

We tore at each other’s clothes, the sound of fabric ripping mingling with our ragged breaths.

The world around us disappeared, and all that mattered was the feel of his skin. against mine, the way our bodies fit together perfectly.

Paint covered us, the cool, slick texture adding an unexpected layer to our frenzied passion.

Nolan pressed me down against the canvas, his body covering mine. The paint beneath us squelched and shifted, but it only heightened the intensity of the moment.

His hands gripped my hips, lifting me slightly as he positioned himself between my legs. I arched my back, ] sing my chest against the canvas, the rough texture adding to the sensory overlo…

He entered me slowly, his movements deliberate and controlled, as if savouring every second. I moaned, the sound muffled against the canvas, my body reacting to every touch, every thrust.

The paint was slick beneath us, making our movements even more fluid and urgent. I could feel it smearing across my skin, mixing with the sweat and heat of our bodies.

Nolan’s pace quickened, his breaths coming in short, ragged bursts. His hands gripped my hips tighter, pulling me closer with each thrust.

I could feel his strength, his power, and it made my own need surge to new heights. I pushed back against him, meeting his movements with equal fervor, our bodies moving in perfect sync.

The room was filled with the sounds of our passion, the wet slap of skin against skin, the creak of the floor beneath us, and our mingled moans.

The paint beneath us was a riot of colors, a testament to the intensity of our coupling. Each thrust sent a fresh wave of pleasure coursing through me, building to a crescendo that threatened to overwhelm me.

Nolan’s hands moved from my hips to my chest, pressing me harder against the canvas. The pressure was exquisite, the rough texture of the fabric adding a new layer of sensation.

I cried out, my body trembling with the force of my impending release. Nolan’s lips were in my ear, whispering words of encouragement, urging me to let go. With one final, powerful thrust, I came undone. The world exploded into a riot of colours and sensations, my body convulsing with the force of my climax. Nolan followed moments later, his own release a primal, guttural sound that sent shivers down my spine. We stayed like that for a moment, our bodies intertwined, Slowly, we disentangled ourselves, our breathing still heavy and labored. I turned to look at Nolan, his face flushed with exertion, his eyes dark with lingering desire, He smiled, a lazy, satisfied grin that made my heart skip a beat. I smiled back, feeling a sense of contentment and connection that I had never known before, The paint was everywhere, covering our skin, our clothes, the floor, but it didn’t matter. In that moment, we w living canvas, a masterpiece of passion and desire.

Oh, we have definitely created a masterpiece.