Page 48 of Pink Ink

Brava, Miss Sinaga. Well done.

The scene shifts to a bathroom, where a tub brims with steaming water. I stop breathing altogether when Reyna enters the frame in nothing but a thin cream singlet. She’s turned away from the camera. All I have to go off is from her waist up, and fuck if the sight of those tiny, breakable straps doesn’t drive me feral. My cock twitches to life at the thought of her naked as water trickles between her breasts. She’d lean back and spread her legs to—

I clear my throat and readjust myself to alleviate the pressure.

She’s my student.

She’s eleven years younger than me.

She’s an innocent civilian who’s not part of the Order.

I’m getting married soon.

All of these things areclearsigns that I should have zero interest in her and keep my distance. Yet I would sacrifice anything to have her turn around so I could see what she looks like through the thin material.

Almost her entire back is covered in black and gray ink. I wish I could strip her so I could study the art she deemed worthy to brand onto her body for the rest of eternity.

I want to be the only person she bares herself before. I want to be the only one who sees the tattoos she hides from the world, and I’m turning murderous thinking about anyone else seeing what she looks like in that goddamn singlet.

My breaths grow shallow as the scene progresses, and I’m mildly tempted to ask her who was holding the camera, so I can liberate their soul from their body. The scene focuses on the dips of her rib cage, the delicate curve of her vertebrae, and the roll of her shoulder blades, before she steps into the tub. Slowly, the pieces fall into place.

She’s washing her skin and bones, like I did to the subject of that art installation.

Reyna is turning herself into my pretty little muse.

My dick pushes against the zipper of my pants hard enough to cause pain.

I am aware that what she’s portraying is a ritualistic act of cleansing and purification. The foretelling of connection between the victim and the killer waiting on the other side of the door. But I’ve lost the war to my hindbrain. My base instincts drive me to undo my belt, slip my pants and briefs down, and fist my cock.

I curse, dropping my head against the chair, imagining her soft hands gripping me. Pleasure zips down my spine as I draw my hand up, tightening the pressure at the tip. I can already hear it.Seeit. What she’d be like under me.

She’d moan my name and shudder as she flicks her tongue out to taste me. This woman is wearing me down every single day, and she doesn’t even know she’s doing it. I’m hooked when she hasn’t raised a finger.

Precome leaks when her bare back appears on the screen. Soap suds and water trickle down her skin as she cleans herself with a plain white bar of soap. Half of her body is hidden beneath the bubbles, but it doesn’t stop my pulse from pounding against my chest.

My fist picks up speed. That’s what I’d see if I fucked her against a wall. Reyna’s hand braced next to mine, crying out as I drive into her until she can’t hold her own weight.

Tension draws from the base of my cock.

Even her bloody bare back drives me insane. Not knowing what her face looks like as she comes is enough to make me go completely mad. Fuck, I need to hear her say my name. I’d be completely and utterly done for if she did.

That husky voice of hers. The curve of her ass. Her fucking legs I need choking me as my nose rubs against her clit while I taste that cunt of hers.

The pleasure takes me over the edge. Ropes of white cover my hand as light flashes behind my eyes. It’s nowhere near enough. Nothing compared to what it’d feel like to be inside of her.

When I look back up, electricity flows through me with a different need. I want to draw her. Need to. It’s a soul-deep desire as necessary as food and water. I pause the film to trace the dark lines permanently etched into her back.

It’s a dragon. Anaga.

And just like that, lightning strikes, a dam breaks somewhere in the distance.

I know what my main piece is going to be.

MADDOX

I have a pile of assignments waiting to be graded.

An exhibit to prepare for.