His Canvas (7 page)

Authors: Ava Lore

BOOK: His Canvas

13.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

With every cry, he sent a lance of pain over my nipple, and with
every jolt of that incredible sensation I bucked and wailed as he flicked my
clit faster and faster, until I couldn't tell the pain from the pleasure and it
was one and the same. "Malcolm!" I cried out as I coiled tight and
then burst apart, shattering into a million pieces. Each piece fell to the
floor, and I collapsed against the cloth when it was over, my quivering pussy
still aching and wet, begging for his cock to enter me.

Slowly he slid the brushes from my ass, and I felt the emptiness
that followed their loss keenly. Panting, I felt sweat rolling down my brow and
sheening my back, and when he ran his hand over the skin there, I shuddered
with pleasure.

"Good, good," he murmured. His own voice was throaty
with desire. Would he finally give me what I wanted?

His hands guided me until I was curled up into a fetal position
on the floor, and then he turned me over and spread me out. Sweat cooled in the
air, and I tried not to stare shamelessly at the bulge in his jeans. His full
lips were parted, and again he dipped a brush into paint. Putting it to my
skin, he swirled up around the outside of my breast, shimmying and spiraling up
and up, over the inside of my upper arm. "I wonder if I could make a
tattoo you would love," he said, almost to himself.

I almost smiled at that, but the words brought a tiny bit of
anxiety to the fore. I had designed all my tattoos myself. It would have to be
a stunning design for me to really want to put it to my skin.

Then he trailed the paint over the tattoo on the inside of my
arm, a leaping koi fish done in the Japanese style. I felt the bristles move
over the numb spot there, and I gritted my teeth.

Malcolm paused.

I couldn't help myself. I looked up, and I saw that the solid
color of the paint had obscured my tattoo, revealing what lay beneath.

A long, angry scar.

"Stop!"

The word burst out of my mouth, and Malcolm froze, startled. He
glanced down at my face, and whatever he saw there told him I was serious. He
withdrew the brush and backed away.

I sat up.

"Sadie?" he said. "Are you—"

"I'm going," I said. "I just remembered. I have
to go somewhere. I'm sorry. I have to go." My hand was already on the
paint, wiping it away, until my leaping fish emerged again and I smeared the
paint on the drop cloth beneath me.

"Sadie..."

I was on my feet. I didn't care if my clothes were ruined. I
hurried over to them and pulled them on, my bra, my shirt, my cardigan. My
jacket, my jeans. My boots. Each layer soothed me, hid me, and when I was done,
I grabbed my purse, my breathing so fast I thought I might faint.
"Sorry," I said. "I have to go." And without looking back,
I jogged across the floor and took the steps down the stairs two-at-a-time. I
sounded like a herd of buffalo, but I didn't stop until I was outside,
breathing in the icy air.

I paused on the sidewalk and looked up. I couldn't see Malcolm
looking down at me, but I knew he was. What I had just done was exactly what he
had done to me after our first session. Run away. I was a coward.

I started for the subway station, but my breath wouldn't slow
down. I was hyperventilating. I knew I should stop, bend over, but the only way
to stop was to breathe less or use up that extra oxygen. My feet picked up the
pace, until I was barely skimming the ground with my toes, dodging and weaving
through other people. Yells followed me whenever I bumped into someone, but I
couldn't stop.

Great. Now I really
am
the one running away.
But I
couldn't make myself slow down. I couldn't make myself turn around. I just kept
on running.

Time passed. I don't know how long. I just wanted to
escape,
but
I couldn't run away from the things inside. I thought I'd run the whole way
home even though it wouldn't have done any good, and I would have done it if a
sleek black car hadn't pulled up next to me and kept pace. I glanced over, and
saw Malcolm through the open window in the back seat. I slowed down.

"What do you want?" I said.

"Sadie, please, get in the car."

"No thanks. I'm out for a jog."

"I crossed a line. I didn't know it was there."

I looked away. "It's fine. You didn't know. And now you
said sorry. So it's all hunk dory now. Is that why you just ran me down in your
car?"

"I hardly think I ran you down. And yes, that's partly
why."

I slowed to a stop, waiting for him to finish the thought, but
he didn't. Fine. I'd bite. "And why else did you want to talk to me so
badly you couldn't call me on the phone?"

"You wouldn't have answered, and I want to take you to
Dubrovnik," he told me.

I'd never even heard of Dubrovnik. I stared at him.

He smiled. "Let's get out of Manhattan. Let's go. I'm sick
of this place. I want to take you out. I heard its warm in Dubrovnik this
year."

"I don't even know where Dubrovnik is."

"I want to take you there. You are an artist. You will love
it."

I'd told Felicia I'd see her tomorrow.

But this was Malcolm Ward, offering to take me somewhere else.
If I went home, I knew I'd spend the rest of the day drinking wine and washing
away the paint, running my thumbs over my tattoos, shivering and shuddering and
afraid to go to sleep.

If I went with Malcolm, I'd end up on another planet. At least,
that's what I was assuming Dubrovnik was. It was warm? I'd kill for the warm. I
was cold, inside and out.

"Fine," I said, got in the car, and away we drove.

* * *

To be continued in
His Inspiration (The Billionaire's
Muse, #3)
!

Want to stay updated on my new releases?
Sign up for my update list here
!

Want teasers, news, and special offers?
Sign up for my newsletter here
!

Enjoying
The Billionaire's Muse?
Then don't miss
Felicia's story,
The Billionaire's Wife!

Buy
Now
!

About the Author

Ava Lore was raised by wombats and
lives to corrupt the innocent. When she's not writing erotic romance, she
spends her time thinking about writing erotic romance and drinking enough iced
coffee to kill a musk ox.

Discover more titles by
Ava
Lore at AllRomanceeBooks.com
.

You can email Ava Lore at
[email protected]
or catch up
with her at
authoravalore.com
. She
yearns for your approval and always loves to hear from fans. Want more BBW?
More Billionaires? More aliens? More menage? Something entirely different? Let
her know!

Other Titles by Ava Lore

The Billionaire’s Muse (A BDSM Erotic Romance):

His
Acquisition (The Billionaire’s Muse, #1)

The Billionaire's Wife (A BDSM Erotic Romance):

Bartered
Proposal: The Billionaire's Wife, Part 1

Bartered
Seduction: The Billionaire's Wife, Part 2

Bartered
Bride: The Billionaire's Wife, Part 3

Bartered
Desire: The Billionaire’s Wife, Part 4

Bartered
Submission: The Billionaire’s Wife, Part 5

Bartered
Passion: The Billionaire’s Wife, Part 6

Bartered
Pain: The Billionaire’s Wife, Part 7

Bartered
Betrayal: The Billionaire’s Wife, Part 8