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"Apparently my blood magic didn't work on her, or something like that." He walked away to return the momentous piece into the shelter of the cabinet. I returned my eyes to the painted image of him, and though I'd been trying to catch onto the many flaws my first painting could carry, I allowed myself to see the beauty in the image.
The intense reds, the various shades of black, the gorgeous mixtures of peach and brown, and the overall image that I painted of my Blood Prince was beautiful.
I suddenly felt satisfied with my work, and when he returned, I gave him a teeth-glimmering smile. "Can we frame it?"
"Anything for you, Sweetness," he assured me. "Want it in the penthouse or the safe house?"
"Decisions," I admitted. "I kind of miss the penthouse."
"I know. We haven't been there for a while," he replied as he admired me. "Want me to paint you?"
I gawked at the idea. "Do...do we have time?"
"There's no time limit in my studio, Sweet Mate," he reminded me while offering his hand. "Anything specific you want?"
I placed my hand in his as he helped me up and walked me over to the platform where he'd sat for my session.
"What if it's weird?" I asked as he pulled me close and was kissing me before I could continue.
"Nothing is weird," he muttered against my lips. "Tell me, Sweet Mate," he encouraged while keeping me in his close possession.
"I want to be in just the lingerie you bought me. Like...a sexy painting or something," I quietly confessed and looked up to him as he opened his eyes to specifically take in my expression. "I've always had to fit myself into a box of standards that emphasize the masculine features of William, and as Willow...I'm more known as a tomboy. It's this defensive protectiveness vibe I project with my fierceness that steals from my femininity. Even though I wished to project it more as Willow, I never really could. When I'm in the ring, they only see me as a woman because of my breasts and long hair, and even when I dated Aurelia for a year, everyone assumed I was the male in the relationship because I just gave off that vibe."
I bit my lip to try to find the words before confessing, "I want to be projected as a woman embracing her femininity. Even with my tattoos and fierce attitude. I want people to see me as a beautiful woman in a raw circumstance, like wearing lingerie to please my mate."
He nodded in understanding, and I was surprised by the soft kiss he pressed to my forehead.
"Then let me get painting," he whispered.
He let me strip until I wore just the red set of lingerie he'd specifically chosen for me. It was easy for him to acquire everything he needed, and I was surprised by the big canvas he was planning to draw me on.
He came back to style me, from the specific pose to the way my slightly loose curls fell along my shoulders. I distracted myself with all the various colors of paint he'd laid out with the intention of using. I couldn't process him using all of them.
"You're going to use all those colors? You're really going the extra mile to make me look beautiful."
He paused in fixing a strand behind my ear, and he inched so close, I wondered if he was going to kiss me again.
"No color that lands upon this white canvas can project how beautiful you are in the flesh Willow." The low, husky voice of his left my body tingling in desire, and I was sure he felt the power he had over me because he smirked and lightly tugged my bottom lip before leaving me where I was to begin his work.
He didn't need to sketch. He went right to work, and I couldn't see what he was doing, but he worked fast. It was mesmerizing to watch him work in this manner versus when he was creating his portraits with the blood and organs of our enemies.
The process was completely different, and as time went by, I got lost in watching every move he made to paint the image he saw with his blind vision. Only half an hour had gone by before he placed a special sheet down along with the canvas and lowered it to the floor.
I couldn't understand what he was doing, a bit worried the sheet would smear the paint that wasn't dry yet, but then he placed a table above the large work-in-progress. The sturdy object held tiny little holes throughout the flat surface.
He took off his shoes, before unbuttoning his shirt until he was just in his black pants. He got onto the table as if to ensure it could handle his weight before getting off and bringing a bucket with some thick, glimmering liquid.
I continued to watch as he moved off the platform once more to go across the room and press a specific button. A glass box mechanism began to come down from the ceiling, slowly being lowered until it encased the table and the painting beneath it.
The glass box was interesting because of the weird spiral device at the top that had little balls of glass that hung from strings attached to the circular piece, reminding me of those spinning toys children would watch during bedtime as they spun around hypnotically.
Neo finally returned to where I was and seemed proud that I'd remained in my pose this entire time. "Good, Sweetness," he praised. "Now I need you to strip completely for me."
"Why do I feel as if I'm gonna get something up my coochie," I muttered to myself but began to slip out of the lingerie set. Neo actually chuckled and waited until I was completely naked to reply.
"Trust me, Sweetness. Paint will be the last thing to go into your coochie, but I won't deny that something long and hard will enjoy the warmth of those quivering walls if you keep taunting me with your remarks."
That was him warning me to trust the process, but the idea of him fucking me was only making me want to be defiant and enjoy the pleasurable consequences. With another analyzing gaze on me, he directed me inside the glass box and assisted me up onto the platform. After closing the door of it, he got a brush and brought the bucket with the odd, glimmering liquid in it.
