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He lets out a small grunt making me grin. “Can’t have my canvas all dirty.” I grin before sitting back. I lift myself up, grabbing his cock, and positioning it at my entrance.

My teeth sink into my lower lip, a soft moan slipping free as I take inch by glorious inch inside me.

The stretch is addicting, sending a bolt of pleasure coursing through my body. “Fuck,” he rasps, eyes heavy-lidded.

“That’s what I’m doing.” I let out a breathless chuckle.

His lip twitches. “Smartass.”

“I’d rather be a smartass than a dumbass,” I reply cheekily, moaning as he slaps my ass hard.

“Hush,” he rumbles.

Licking my lips, I wiggle my hips, trying to get into a comfortable position. Saint’s fingers dig into my thighs as I watch him try to hold himself back.

That has me grinning.

“Watch yourself, Bunny,” he warns.

Smiling, I lean over and grab a few of the markers and lay them down on his lower stomach.

As my eyes search his chest, trying to find which tattoo to start with, I feel Saint’s eyes on me.

Warmth blankets me and a feeling of shyness takes over. I’m not used to this, used to having someone look at me like I’m their whole world. That they would do anything and everything just to see me smile, to make me happy.

Like this. He has no idea how much this means to me.

There’s a sweetness to this intimacy that I know I’m going to remember for a long time.

He says nothing as his hands gently rub up and down my thighs.

My nipples tighten, but I ignore the building heat growing in my core.

Deciding on the skull on his right side of his chest, I grab a pink marker and start to trace alongside the black lines.

“Pink,” he grunts. “Really?”

“Men can wear pink.” I grin, keeping my attention on my coloring. “And purple.”

He sighs like it’s a big deal but when I flick my gaze up, I can see he doesn’t care at all.

My heart is so fucking full right now. This giddy energy mixes with my arousal.

As I color, I slowly rock back and forth, building a slow sensual warmth inside me.

Saint keeps gently caressing my thighs, my ass, my arm. Every so often, he reaches up and brushes the hair that falls forward out of my way so I can see.

By the time I’m done with the skull and working on the snake that is wrapped around the skull, that feeling of tension inside me has grown.

The build-up is starting to get to me. The need to cum pushes me to work my hips faster and faster, but I want to finish. This is oddly relaxing.

And the tortured expression on Saint’s face is kind of funny.

His eyes are closed, body a little tense.

He’s being so good for me, letting me take my time.

Once I’m done coloring the snake, I decide it’s time to reward the both of us.