With one last thrust, he completed thecanvas.
Cum spilled into the man’s mouth. Alex hadn’t tried to pull back, and the man sputtered on his load as it rushed into his throat, triggering his gag reflex. He pushed back, but Alex’s fingers were hooked into his hair and kept him inplace.
Not yet. Not justyet…
The man’s throat tightened. Alex couldn’t see it, but he imagined his cum spilling from the corners of his mouth as he choked, leaving glossy streaks on his skin and pooling in milky white droplets on the underside of his jaw. Face red from the struggle, hair mussed, composureruined…
How pretty cum would look on his canvas’ fine suit jacket. What a stunning display he wouldmake.
Shades of purple swirled in Alex’s mind, the image complete. The color never lasted this long, typically blotted out by troublesome greens and yellows until they were all that remained. And to think it was still there, coalescing in hisvision...
Purple.Why?
Orgasm had never been sopretty.
At last, he let the man go. He pulled back, sputtering. Alex heard his weight hit the floor—he’d probably fallen on his ass while trying to catch his breath. That was okay. All of it was okay. As long as the alpha was beneath him, Alex didn’t mind how he looked. The image in his mind was all that mattered, and it wasexquisite.
“Oh, fuck,” Alex said with a pleased sigh. He let his body go limp against the door. On the other side, the conversation had grown louder—it seemed some of the crowd from the gallery had found their way to the quiet studio hallway. He hoped they’d heard. It wasn’t meant to be a performance piece, but he could get behind turning it into one. It had been good enough toshare.
Hell, it was good enough that he wouldn’t mind a repeat, and it wasveryrare that he painted a canvas more thanonce.
“So?” the man on the floor asked, his voice raspy from what they’d just done. “What colorispleasure?”
Alex grinned. He pulled his panties back into place, tucked his semi-flaccid dick back where it belonged, and did up his fly. As he slid the leather of his belt back through the buckle, he refused his canvas an answer. “Wouldn’t you like toknow?”
“You’re going to leave mehanging?”
“No.” Alex filled his lungs and let the cool air extinguish the remnants of the fire burning inside. “I’ll let you know, just not today. Suspense and curiosity are beautiful, temporary things that should be cherished. There are so few chances in life to truly appreciate the way they enrich who we are… so I’ll leave you with them, a nod to a night that we paintedtogether.”
“A masterpiece of science, made meaningful byart.”
The remark surprised him—very few men engaged him cognitively after they got what they wanted, and Alex couldn’t help but pause. His hands fell away from the buckle of his belt. He looked through the darkness at the mass of shadows he assumed was the man and frownedthoughtfully.
There was a rustling of fabric and the shifting of weight on the floorboards. Alex heard the man rise to his feet. Most of the time, his canvases would grope through the dark, find Alex’s hand, and guide it to their crotch. It happened like clockwork. Men like this were predictable—they thought with their dicks, and they cared little for decorum once sexual intent had been declared. Alex counted down theseconds.
At zero, no contact had been made. The man spoke instead, and his words were strangely soft. “What’s yourname?”
A glowing feeling blinked into existence in Alex’s chest, nestled somewhere between his heart and his stomach. He blushed furiously and did his best to shut the feeling down. The purple returned, different than before, but no less stunning. “Names areephemeral.”
“So are most things inlife.”
Alex bit down on his bottom lip. A part of him—a part he didn’t like to acknowledge—found himself curious. The purple hadn’t faded from his mind just yet, and it troubledhim.
It should have disappeared as his orgasm wore off, butthis?
He didn’t do names. He didn’t do repeats. Hell, sometimes, he barely diddialogue.
But this canvas was different. The colors Alex had seen were more beautiful than they’d ever been before, and more than that, the man had surprised him. There was more to him than his good looks let on. So Alex did something he never did—he produced a business card from his back pocket and found the man’s hand. When the card met his palm, Alex ceased contact betweenthem.
“What’sthat?”
“My business card.” Alex grinned and leaned forward, finding the man’s cheek by following the sound of his voice. When he spoke next, his lips brushed stubble. Arousal spiked momentarily and intensified the purple color. “It’s less ephemeral…barely.”
There was silence. Alex wondered when the pleading would start. He hadn’t addressed his partner’s needs, and he didn’t plan to. The piece was created. He wouldn’t risk the hurt that came with going further thanthat.
But like the touch he’d anticipated before, the pleading never came. “You’releaving?”
“I’ve got to get back to my exhibition,” Alex replied, letting his grin bleed into his voice. It wasn’t often that he gave out his business card, and it was rarer yet that he felt good about doing it after the fact. He’d burned a few numbers fixing his mistakes… but this? This wasn’t amistake.
