Bound by Blood

Chapter 138- paint me on your skin

(Y/N) POV:

I watch as Tae head falls back, a low sinful groan slipping past his lips as I move my mouth away from his mating mark, his collarbone colouring beautifully red against his warm golden skin, hands tight and hotter than usual, burning the large print of his palm and fingers to skin, where they'd delved under the fabric and tugged me close, anchored me there.

"Jagi...stop. Teasing." He grits out tightly, hooded eyes flashing red as they peer at me from lowered lashes, bitten red lips slick as they part to reveal fanged incisors.

Bingo.

"Just like that Tae. Such a perfect mate. So responsive." I coo, brushing a kiss to his lips, sighing and melting into it when his lips part and his tongue darts out, hot and fiery and demanding as he licks into my mouth, unravels me with the deep fiery demanding urge as he dominates the kiss, even as he wriggles and twists under me, trying to shift and twist our positions. Not yet. Not now.

And then he whines, petulant and frustrated when I slide off his body, find my footing beside the chaise lounge even as the jolts of desire and the heady dangerous consuming look he shoots me has my core tightening and need pooling low in my body.

"I thought you wanted me as your muse jagi. You're getting a bit distracted." He says, voice low and smooth and seductive, a sensually laced growl as his red eyes drift over me, seem to graze directly across bare skin and penetrate the barrier of clothes. There's a sly tilt to his lips as he splays his body out, head thrown back to rest against the arm as his hand settles on his abdomen, legs bent open towards me.

What a tease. For all that I try get one up on him, he so easily reverses it all.

It takes me longer than I'd admit to tear my eyes away from the sensual display he makes, the seductive offering of his body he puts out as he positions himself for me, torso bare save for the splodges of colour marking his collarbone and throat, abdomen muscles clenching and unclenching and tongue swiping over reddened lips.

And then he smiles, a dazzlingly sweet smile that shatters through the picture of primal need that he becomes, a sweet disarming smile.

"Well then. Get your materials ready baby mate. Paint away. Deck me up as you wish." He says casually, lips twitching at the way I can't bring myself to move, to shake myself out of the heady stupor to do what I'd intended. To paint him. The sight of him too entrancing and powerful.

"Or you could come back here." He says with a low rough dangerous voice, liquid honey, molten desire in his words as he captures my eyes, as he parts his legs for me- indicating just where exactly he wanted me.

I swallow.

Mind clouded with lust, longing, need and want. Sheer consuming desire that captivates me, that stops me from moving away until I'm forcefully wrenching my eyes away from the sight, until I'm pushing myself to move, away from the hypnotic call of Tae and towards the dressing screen, ducking behind it and stopping.

To draw in several heavy gulps of air to soothe my heated frazzled body, lungs constricting and expanding against the air I draw in, eyes falling to the beautiful array of clothes and fabrics spilling out of drawers, hanging on racks. A veritable treasure chest of clothes, designs and patterns dating back centuries. And my breath catches at how much history, how many stories each article of clothing must hold, just how breath-taking Tae would look in each and every one of them.

No wonder our mates had been drawn to the constant burning flame he was, enticing and bright and vivid and full of life. Sensually enticing and dangerous too, a love that consumed and burned and engulfed you whole.