Malachi was ready to hold her down if she decided to get up and fight him, but all she did was harden her gaze. Alright. Perhaps not a fight. Then a threat?
"Maybe I should let everyone know you drew it," she said.
He knew it but it just occurred to him that he painted her. Everyone would know he did it. He would have cared if he wasn't enjoying this torture so much.
He had her laying in front of him, watching her stomach quiver now and then as he drew on her, hearing the unsteady rhythm of her heartbeat and heavy breath. Feeling the heat of her body and seeing her face flushed. It was torture for her and he enjoyed it because she tortured him so much.
"Let me finish," he said and went back to draw on her. She stiffened again.
It was so satisfying to watch the black pigment against her white skin. He wanted to run his fingers down her stomach. How much would she quiver under his touch?
