The cool caress of the river water against Ravina's warm skin was a welcome reprieve, soothing the throbbing remnants of pleasure Malachi had stirred within her.
Her limbs were heavy, languid with the aftermath of her climax, a blissful fatigue making her movements sluggish under his hands. His touch was a contrast, heated against the chill of the river, creating a heady mix of sensations that swayed between calming and tantalizing.
As the paint gradually washed away, she could see the intricate design he had created. The black ink had traced a delicate branch of blossoms, beginning just below her chest and trailing all the way down to her thigh. She longed to see the full effect in a mirror, but even from the incomplete reflection in the water, she could tell it was breathtaking.
"You truly have a talent," she murmured, her gaze tracing the strokes of the design with admiration.
