Loving him in the dark
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“Are you sure you want me to paint on something else other than the canvas? I asked, my eyes still on him as I slid my hand under his shirt, my fingers grazing the warm skin of his back as I dragged him closer by the waist.
“Well,” he whispered, “I don’t mind being your canvas.” He smirked wickedly. “Give it your best shot, Mr. Flame and Fleur. Turn me into a masterpiece.”
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“Well,” he whispered, “I don’t mind being your canvas.” He smirked wickedly. “Give it your best shot, Mr. Flame and Fleur. Turn me into a masterpiece.”
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