gentleman, is she rly your wife if you don't kill her once?

Mmm, it pleases me that you miss me. He had been expecting her anger, after all. And yet, here she was before him, the perfect canvas. Her arms slipped around his neck, and he grinned up at her, a wolfish grin.

You, of course. He chuckled quietly, leaned for a kiss, as her mouth brushed near his own. When have I ever painted anything but you, Mytha? He purred the words, and let one of his hands trail between them, nail dragging down the center of her midsection.

He shifted where he sat, and brushed his lips along her jaw, while his hand continued to explore her body. Eventually nimble fingers teased her, and he moved to lay her out on the bed.

Let me see you. He breathed, as he slipped one hand around her wrist, placing her arm above her head, before doing the same with the other. Once she was laid out the way he wanted, he held a hand up to his mouth, the 'sh' sign.

Let me find the paint. And he was off, leaving her laid out on the bed in an empty room.