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I can feel his eyes on me as I grab a fresh palette and canvas and load it up with nude tones, my mouth filling with saliva as I think of the colors of his skin, his hair.
Goosebumps break out over my skin, and my nipples pebble against the soft silk of my robe, desperate for some friction.
Why the hell did I suggest painting Alexei nude? Am I trying to torture myself?
At least it gives me something else to think about at night other than our one drunken kiss…
“Are you comfortable?” I ask as I choose a few brushes.
“Oh, I’m very comfortable.” I glance at him and see his signature smirk tugging at his full lips.
Alexei is draped across the loveseat, his body nothing but rippling muscle, and it takes everything in me not to stare.
I can’t give him the satisfaction.
So instead, I take a seat at my easel and swap out the portrait of my mother for a fresh canvas.
“This might take a while,” I warn him, turning my focus back to the blank canvas.
“I have incredible stamina, solnyshka, don’t you worry.”
Oh, my god.
9
ALEXEI
I don’t fail to notice the blush creeping up Bianca’s chest and neck as I lie on the couch. I also get immense satisfaction when her blush intensifies every time her eyes flick to my cock. I shift my position, doing my best not to get aroused as she sets up a fresh canvas.
“Can you lie back a bit more?” she asks from behind her easel.
I grin as I catch her peeking at my abs, which I make sure to flex even more.
“Of course.” I spread out even more, resting my arms along the back of the couch as I spread my thighs, giving her ample view of my cock. “Is that better?”
“Y-yes.” She hides behind the canvas.
Chuckling, I enjoy the turn my night is taking.
I had been holed up in my study for hours, not wanting to give in and go to bed because I knew sleep would never come. The dreams and flashbacks never fail to plague me, but they’re particularly bad in the days surrounding the anniversary of my parents murder.
I’ve found if I work myself to exhaustion, whether in my study or in the gym, then I can grab a few peaceful hours before the nightmares eventually rouses me.
Tonight, I’m hoping my dreams will be plagued with something else.
We’re both silent as she works.
She’s shifted her position slightly to gain a better view, meaning she’s no longer completely hidden behind her canvas, giving me the most delicious view. She perches on her stool with one leg crossed over the other, her silk robe hitching up to show most of her upper thigh.
I swallow at the sight of her smooth skin, desperate to lift that robe higher.
Is she wearing anything underneath?
My eyes roam upwards, and I have to bite back a groan as I notice the outline of her pebbled nipples.
I think that’s my answer.
My mind goes blank as I look back down at her thighs, my fingers itching to trace her skin.
