Page 53 of Isle of Pain

I look over my shoulder, and she raises her head to meet my gaze. Her eyes have darkened to a green so deep it’s almost black.

“I paint death. It’s morbid.” It’s not self-deprecating, but my honest truth. Every person that has the misfortune of ending in this room is painted after their death. My own fucked up version of a bedpost. Yet, she doesn’t recoil.

“I think it’s beautiful. You’re beautiful. You look so free while you paint.”

I turn to hug her to my frame. Her curves fit on the plane of my body like she was made just for me, carved by a merciful God who thought maybe I could be saved.

There’s one room I haven’t shown her yet.

Taking her hand in mine, we walk out of the work room and close the distance to a door facing my office. I open and switch on the light, letting her step inside in front of me.

Her intake of breath has me holding my own.

“I’ve painted the death of who you were ever since you stepped foot in my house weeks ago. I know that’s what youcame here to do. To bury that version of yourself you were before we met.”

I’ve never been more prolific than in the past month. Inside the room, there’s about fifty portraits and abstracts of Marie. All in black and white. Most are sad and dark but lately, the white has been more prominent.

She stops in front of a larger piece. She sits naked, giving her back to the viewer and leaning on her right hand. Her face is fully covered by the sheets of dark hair and slanted to the side to reveal her neck.

“This one is from the night at Absolution,” I tell her and wait for her reaction.

Her focus is fully on the canvas, her hands covering her mouth.

“When did you have the time to paint this? You’re always with me.”

That’s not what I expected her to ask but I answer honestly. “I barely sleep at night so I come here and paint you.”

When she turns to me, her eyes are filled with tears, brimming with an emotion I can’t recognise, let alone have a name for. I just know I can feel it too. Energy crackles between us, drawing us together, sizzling with promise. We’re on the verge of falling. I had the same sensation when I watched the azure sea on the Hills of Sant Armellu, back when I first met her and contemplated falling over the edge of the cliff in her garden. The emptiness on the other side of what we’ll do is terrifying and exhilarating, because I know she’ll be right there with me. As much as I’ve never felt alone with Andrea and my mother, it’s different with her. She’s different.

She’s everything. And I want to give it all to her.

“Can I take you home, Miss Marie?” I ask bending over her to graze my lips against hers. “You already own my soul, I need you to own my body.”

The dark pools of her irises widen, her gaze turning sultry. I get hard on her confidence as she grabs me by the throat and crashes her lips to mine. She consumes me with every nip and lick, dominating me already with only a kiss. I melt for her before I scoop her into my arms, and march back to the house.

“Letme down and kneel by the bed. Wait for me there,” Marie orders. Her voice has dropped so low the dog inside me wants to bark. I dart inside our bedroom and kneel dutifully by the bed, eyes cast down. She rummages in the kitchen and anticipation has me hard and barely holding a groan already.

Her feet appear in the corner of my eyes when she steps inside and closes the door. The click is loud and I shiver, making Marie chuckle darkly.Fuck, I’ve never felt so needy.My cock twitches inside my jeans, painfully pressing against the zipper.

Her fingers glide under my chin and she raises my face to meet her lustful gaze. She’s still fully clothed in a comfortable wool dark dress and thick tights that I want to rip them with my teeth. My eyes dart to see she’s placed glasses of water on the bedside table and a metal spatula on the bed. The unknown of the situation has a cold sweat rising on my skin but she gives me a sharp slap. It doesn’t hurt but it’s savage enough to bring my attention immediately back to her.

“Do you trust me, baby?”

I nod.

She clicks her tongue. “Words.”

“Yes, Miss Marie. I trust you.”

“Your safety is my priority. Use your safe word if you need everything to stop and give me colours throughout the scene. Otherwise, keep your eyes on me, baby. You’ve been such a good boy for me, wiping the world of the undeserving. You deserve a reward, don’t you, sweet boy?”

I nod, before remembering what she likes. For me to admit how pathetically gone for her I am, and whatever she has to give me. “Yes, Miss Marie. I’ve been so good for you.”

She caresses my cheek. “Get up, lose the clothes and bend over the bed, baby.”

I obey, eager to please, dropping my jeans and boxers to my ankles but not stepping out of them and position myself as she requested. I’m fully exposed. It isn’t much different than when we were at my club, yet the air has thickened between us.

There’s an intimacy in giving myself over to her in my home that sends zings of electric need straight to my cock. My head floats with anticipation. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m wiggling and trying to get friction on my aching cock.

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