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Chapter Twenty-Nine
Damon
Belle paints for a while, as the sun goes down, and the light turns from gold to orange to purple. Normally at night I put on the overhead lights, but I don’t want to ruin the sensual nature of this activity, so when it’s too dark to see, I turn on a couple of lamps instead, moving them to cast us in a warm glow. Even though it’s a large room, I also make sure the heat pump is on high so Belle doesn’t get cold.
At one point, we take a break so I can refill our glasses, and then it’s time for me to pick up my brush and start my masterpiece.
I start by turning her around so I can do her back first. I use the white and gold paint mostly, and she shivers when I first draw the brush across her skin.
I have to fight not to keep stopping to kiss her while I paint, because I want to finish it tonight. But it’s impossible not to lean forward occasionally and press my lips to her neck or shoulder.
Her thoughtful present delighted me, as did the way she reacted to me saying I was in love with her. It would have been so easy for her to laugh it off, but the way she repeated it immediately filled me with incredible joy. I want to return that gift, and the only way I know how is to give her pleasure. But first, I want to finish the painting.
I paint across her shoulders and along her arms, and continue the design down her spine. When I’m done, I turn around so she can do my back, then return so I can work on her front.
I lose myself in it for a while, loving the notion of using the colors to follow the dips and curves of her body. I spend a long time on her breasts, enjoying drawing the brush over each swell, and painting around her nipples.
When we’re finally happy with each other’s bodies, we move a little closer and begin painting each other’s faces.
Now it’s impossible not to kiss her, and she seems to find it as hard to stay apart as I do. We kiss, and paint, and kiss, and paint, and the kisses grow longer, and the brush marks become shorter, until eventually we drop our brushes and I sink my hands into her hair and kiss her hard, delving my tongue into her mouth, turned on by hours of touching and yet not touching her. She moans, holding her hands out, not knowing where to touch me, and it’s with some reluctance that I eventually move back and say, “Okay, maybe we should admire our handiwork now.”
Breathless, she nods, and we get to our feet and go and stand in front of the mirrored wall.
“I’ve turned you into Rehua,” she tells me. “The star god with the power to heal.” She gestures to the big star on my chest. I rotate slowly, seeing that she’s transformed me into the night sky, covering my back and arms with golden stars.
“Wow.” I’m genuinely impressed.
“He’s a heavenly guardian,” she whispers, kissing my shoulder. “Just like you are mine. You saved me, Damon. I don’t want to come on all heavy, but even in the short time we’ve spent together, you’ve healed me, and shown me what it’s like to feel loved. Whatever happens now, I’m thankful for that.” She slides her arms around me from behind and kisses the back of my neck.
Touched by her words, I stand there for a moment, resting my arms on hers. Then I bring her around to stand her before me. I’ve had some fun painting her front, and I’ve filled her skin with a sixties-style paisley pattern of teardrop shapes in psychedelic colors. She spends a while admiring my work, telling me, “I love it, Damon.” But it’s only when I turn her around and show her the reflection of her back that her eyes widen.
I lift her arms so they’re outstretched, which reveals the painting in all its glory. I’ve drawn a pair of wings on her back, arms, and shoulders, outlined in black and filled in with glorious silver and gold.
“My angel,” I tell her.
She doesn’t answer. It’s only now that she can see that hidden between all the feathers is a word, emblazoned across her shoulder blades in reverse so she can see it in the reflection.
Her eyes meet mine. “You’ve written your name.”
“I’m branding you,” I tell her. “Even when you wash it off, it’ll stay there. So you don’t forget me.”
“Forget you?”
I shrug. “When you meet all those young Aussie dudes.”
Her expression turns wry, and she turns to lift her arms around my neck. “Yeah, because I’m totally going there for the sex.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Don’t mock me. I might end up handcuffing you to the bed and refusing to let you go.”
“Promises, promises,” she whispers, lifting up to kiss me.
I sigh, and we kiss for a long time, moving a little to the music that’s still playing. Gradually, though, it gets harder not to press myself against her, and finally I say, “Maybe we should get in the bath now?”
“Aw.” She sighs. “Yeah, I guess. Photos first though, right?”
“Are you sure?”
