Page 98 of Dark Ink

I nodded numbly.

“They tell you it’s important to have a reason,” Rian explained further as I ran through this acrylic life before me, over and over and over again. “And…and these paintings, well, they gave me strength. Through withdrawals. Through sleepless nights. Through those weakest moments where all I wanted to do is give up, sign out, find the nearest high and obliterate myself. Through all those times I returned to the canvas, to the paint, to you.”

I felt Rian’s knuckles against mine. The warmth of his skin between mine. I looked up at him.

“I know why you didn’t show me these,” I said. “I know why you wanted to go slow. I know. But Rian…”

His eyes were on mine, soft in the warm glow of the lamp beside us.

“I don’t want to go slow anymore,” I said. “I want all of this. I want all of us.” He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

So I lifted up the hem of my skirt and showed him I was serious.

“No panties,” he choked out.

I grinned. “Fuck me like your dirty little whore, Professor.”

* * *

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