Beastly Desires

Chapter Thirty-Four

This was the time to run. To flee to the watchtower and mawl himself until he passed out. He promised Niel he would. He promised him that he would live to free himself from this curse. Not her. Not beautiful, breathtaking, loss for words Colette. This young woman who saw him for more than what he was. A beast.

She looked at him like he were the stars and the moon. There was an indescribable hunger in her eyes. She feasted on his body with them. Every movement of her eyes was a stab at his flesh. He felt their liquid ice seeping into his skin. But it did not cool the flames that grew inside of him with every passing sweep of those blue eyes. She stared a moment longer at his waist and he hoped she didn't notice what her eyes were doing to him.

He needed to sit himself down before his desire became too noticeable.

"I'll, um... sit right here if that's okay." He didn't wait for an answer before plopping down onto the sofa. He brought his leg up over his other.

Breathe.

Inhale. Exhale.

Stamp out the desire.

Colette didn't say a word as she reached behind her for the materials and took what she needed before settling into the chair opposite of him. The sunlight was starting to wane as its lingering rays poured in through the window.

She had a board and parchment propped onto her lap as her hand began to move in quick gestural strokes. He watched her for a minute. All her focus and attention on him. Her eyes flitted back and forth between the paper and where he sat.

After a few minutes she removed the parchment and replaced it with a new one. "Could you position yourself in another pose?" Her voice was quiet but sure.

Sébastien shifted and leaned against the corner of the sofa where the back met the armrest and splayed out his leg across the seat while the other stayed planted on the ground. He opted for a leisurely pose. If anything, his groin was feeling a little tight right about now.

"Perfect." She whispered. The bottom half of her face was concealed by the board and her eyes were the only thing he saw. He watched them closely as they measured the length of his body, pausing momentarily at his center before coasting along his leg. Her brows rose slightly. She then immediately went to work again.

The fire that dared to burst through earlier had tampered down and was a controlled simmer now as he lounged across the sofa.

"How many portraits will you draw of me?"

She stopped for a second then returned to sketching. "Until I find the one that resembles you the best."

He nodded. Sébastien longed to know what he looked like in her eyes.

After a few more poses the sun had sunk behind the horizon and Colette had him pause while she lit the candelabras around his study. The warm glow of them made the room feel even warmer.

Sébastien had moved carefully into different poses, from sitting with a leg propped up onto the sofa, to leaning forward onto his thighs and to facing the length of the couch with his arms around his legs. He didn't mind all the moving. It kept him from staring at her for too long. This was the longest he had ever been alone with her.

"I would like to draw you from behind." There wasn't an ounce of shyness in her voice. She was completely transparent and sure of herself. She was in her element. An artist and their muse. Sébastien had no issue with being her muse. He would fall on his knees for her any day.

Sébastien stood up and turned to face the sofa. "How would you like me?" He couldn't hide the heaviness in his voice as he looked over his shoulder at her.

Damn those eyes. She raked her eyes down his backside. There was something livid in those two oasis. Something that simmered beneath the glassy surface. She licked at her bottom lip again and Sébastien refrained from groaning. Did she know what that innocent gesture did to him? How it moved the blood in his veins elsewhere. He was glad he faced away from her because there was no hiding the hard length of him straining against the front of his trousers.

"Bend forward."

Those two words set his eyes ablaze and he did as he was told and leaned forward, grabbing the back of the sofa. He could have sworn he heard her gulp.

"Bring your knees onto the sofa like you're kneeling."

He would kneel for her for hours. Between her thighs. Behind her back. Just say the words.

Sébastien flexed his fingers before getting into position. He felt exposed like this. Not in an embarrassing way but vulnerable.

"Like this?" He whispered.

He heard the sound of her skirts rustling before he felt her hand on his lower back. Every muscle inside of him tensed up and he became increasingly aware of every sound, every breath, every beat of his heart and hers as she pressed her hand into the tender muscles and his front pushed forward and his back curved down.

"Better."

"Mhmm." Sébastien hummed. He was gripping the sofas back so tight he thought surely he'd rip it off from one abrupt move.

"Alright. Try and stay still."