Hades’ breathing went ragged. He turned Aaren back around and tipped his face up, kissing him deeply. “I want you to go into my bedroom and sit in the middle of my bed. Lean back on your arms, bend your legs and spread them wide, like you’re trying to tempt me closer.”
Aaren throbbed. “Y-Yes, alpha.”
Hades’ hands trembled. “Go.”
He swatted Aaren’s ass; Aaren squeaked and hurried to the bedroom.
Hades came in a minute later with an easel and a stool. He went back out and returned with a palette, canvases, and brushes.
“Can you paint while you’re rock-hard?” Aaren blurted, curling his toes into the soft bedspread.
“We’ll see, won’t we?”
Hades drew the curtains to let daylight flood the bedroom. He opened the windows too, bringing a standing fan over to blow the air out through the window.
“To redirect your heat scent,” Hades murmured. “I’m already so fucking hard, and we haven’t even started.”
He set up his painting supplies. Then he swept his gaze over Aaren, lighting up every inch of Aaren’s skin.
Aaren’s body was starting to ache without his alpha inside him. He wasn’t sure how long he could hold still, with Hades’ bulge right there in full view, his wet spot larger than before. “This feels like torture.”
“Let me get your shape on my canvas,” Hades said, his voice gravelly.
“I could get my canvas on your big, hard paintbrush,” Aaren said. And winced. “That sounded horrible.”
Hades coughed. “My brush certainly... paints.”
“It only paints white,” Aaren’s mouth blurted. “Maybe you need to add colors to it.”
Hades laughed. Instead of positioning his easel in the corner of the room, Hades had set it up just two feet away from the bed. So he could see all of Aaren from up close. He began to paint.
For a while, all Aaren heard was the sound of brushstrokes on canvas. He looked down at himself, trying to imagine what Hades was seeing. His belly and thick thighs? His red panties with a wet spot around his ass? He leaked onto the bed, squirming when his ass ached harder. He needed Hades to hold him down, he needed Hades to push that big cock inside and pound so hard that he screamed.
“Hades,” Aaren whimpered.
“I’m painting the lines of your body,” Hades murmured. “Your shoulders, your arms.” Some long brushstrokes. “Your chest, and your beautiful spread legs, open just for me.”
“Are you going to paint my hole?”
Hades shivered. “It’s hidden in this position. Probably for the best, or I’ll be—” he groaned “—I’ll be on you right this second, holding you open and pounding in.”
Aaren moaned. Hades’ hand jerked. The alpha cursed and swept his gaze up and down Aaren’s body, lingering on the red lace panties. They were even more beautiful in the soft daylight, standing out against Aaren’s skin. Aaren couldn’t help but notice that Hades was still dressed, his chest heaving as though he was trying to keep himself calm.
“You look so pretty like this,” Hades growled. “Wrapped up all for me.”
“You could unwrap me,” Aaren whimpered. “My hole needs to be stretched.”
Hades cursed. Actually, the longer he painted, the more it seemed as though the alpha was barely holding himself back. His legs were trembling, his bulge constantly jerking like it needed to be buried inside Aaren right now.
“Your panties,” Hades growled, his gaze roving between Aaren’s legs. “Clinging to your curves, gaping at the back to welcome my cock.”
Aaren shuddered, swallowing the urge to reach down and pry himself open, to show Hades what he was missing. But he knew he couldn’t hold back for much longer. Each sweep of Hades’ ravenous gaze made him ache; Aaren dug his nails into the sheets, barely hanging on.
“Alpha,” he whined.
“What is it?” Hades met his eyes.
“I need your cock. Please!”
