Pushing off the lounge, he strides across the room to where his canvas awaits. As he sets up his supplies and moves a stool in front the easel, I will my cheeks to cool. But I don’t harbor such power. It’s all I can do to keep my thighs open, because if I close them, and he touches me again, I might beg him for more.

“Stop squirming. I know your pussy’s hot and wet, but I need you to stay still for this.”

God, I must be a thousand shades of embarrassed. His cruel smirk tells me it’s true. Forcing my muscles to relax, I settle in for the next hour as his brush strokes the canvas.

“I’ve never painted a woman so aroused before.” He shoots me a sexy, amused smile.

“Were your previous subjects zombies?” The retort escapes before I can stop it.

His grin widens. “They were as hot-blooded as you, princess. Just not as innocent.”

I despise how the nickname has grown on me. He’s the only one who calls me that. And he’s the only one, besides Liam, who makes me want to shed my innocence. A sharp pang radiates through my chest, because my intense attraction to Sebastian feels like a betrayal to Liam.

At the end of the first hour, he shifts in front of his work. “You’re fucking gorgeous. I can’t wait for you to see it.”

I sit forward, but he gives a stern shake of his head. “I didn’t say you could move.”

“I want to see it.”

“You will, after.” Abandoning the paintbrush, he saunters in my direction.

“It’s time for your payment, then?” I arch a challenging brow, but I’m shaking on the inside. The closer his purposeful steps bring him, the quicker my composure crumbles.

“Something like that.” He halts between my legs, rough denim grazing my inner thighs, and my toes curl as his gaze travels the length of my body. “You heard the man. No orgasms.”

I bite back a whimper, fighting to keep my thighs from pressing against his legs. “He’s evil.”

Sebastian laughs. “To you, maybe.” Putting one hand on the back of the lounge, he leans over until we’re face to face. “But I’m going to enjoy this.” Slowly, he dips his fingers between my legs, and I swallow a moan.

I’m putty in his hands.

“It’s a shame I’ll have to deprive this wet pussy.” He adds a teasing caress to my clit.

My hips jerk, seeking a firmer touch. “I-I need—”

“You need to sit still and take it,” he interrupts. “I have two hours left to play with you, and you’re not allowed to come.” To add insult to injury, he plunges a finger into my tight opening, and there’s no hiding a moan this time.

“You don’t have to tell him.”