[MATURE CONTENT]
"Arancini isn't the most fascinating thing on the menu, Coniglia." he commented, taking a long sip from his glass of stark red wine. "You clearly have no taste."
I rolled my eyes, annoyed. "And what is it on the menu that surpasses...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
We carried the fruits back in a plastic bag, leaving them in the kitchen. I'd asked for my own share of plums though, and he poured some for me in a purple bowl. Raffaele didn't like food in his room, so he made me swear that I wouldn't mess the place up.
The house was eerily empty. Dad and Ivan had gone out fishing, Antonio was wherever Antonio was, and Mom and Fio were at the market, leaving the two of us alone.
Again.
He opened his bedroom door, ushering for me to walk in first.
"Such a gentleman." I mused, walking inside.
I didn't wait for him to say anything else, flopping down onto his bed. Raffaele shot me a glimpse as I made myself comfortable, shaking his head. He walked in the direction of his painting set up, standing before his easel. There was a wooden stool propped in front of it, and he placed the bowl of Mirabelles down.
I could only blink, eyes falling slowly when I watched him take his shirt off. He wrapped his fingers around the hem of his Polo, and dragged it over his torso, curling it off his shoulders. He hung it onto the clothing rack near, strolling to the windows, and opened a slider to let some air in.
"Damn, it's hot." He groaned, raking his hands through his hair.
"Yeah," I pursed my lips, eyeing the blank canvas. "Um, what do you like painting?"
He laughed, back facing me. "Anything. Flowers, memories." A pause. "Naked girls."
"Oh..." was all I could say, scrunching my toes.
"But that's only because it's easy to find them in Italy." He shrugged, finally looking at me. "Remember? The woman are free with their sexualities here. Girls are more willing to take their clothes off for a painting."
I opened my mouth to say something, closed it again. Trying over, I did the same, unable to speak a single word. Swallowing hard, I finally gathered enough courage to propose, "Would you paint me?"
No response. He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, tilting his head to the side to examine me. I scrunched my toes even harder, curling a loose hair behind my ear.
"Would you let me?" He deflected, and I nodded slowly. Raffaele copied my nod, marching forward, stance intimidating. "With nothing on?" I nodded weakly again. "No clothes, no underwear, completely bare?"
"Yeah..."
"Naked, all for me?"
"Yes Raffaele."
He made his way to the bed, looming over me with a domineering presence. "Right now?" Cocking an eyebrow, he pressed for my response.
I didn't give him one, simply edging off the bed and taking my clothes off leisurely, article by article. I let him watch me, admire me, and ambled to the spot where he would paint me. There was another stool opposite his easel, so I sat on that.
