The desire to possess the beloved is a dark, restless feeling. But devotion, real devotion, is peaceful and selfless.
- Unknown
Beckham's POV
Sitting on my knees in my warehouse, I found myself lost, as I've been feeling for the last few weeks or so. I've been keeping my hands rather busy to keep my mind off my misery. Surrounded by portraits of the woman that was consistently on my mind would do me no good.. but I couldn't help myself.
She'd burned a piece of herself into me that I couldn't explain. Countless sessions, countless late nights of sculpting her body into works of art, countless nights of having her all to myself while her husband wasn't aware... It wasn't enough. It would never be enough. And I needed to tell her that. I wanted to cherish her, my flower. I wanted to treasure her, and until recently, I realized I wanted to love her.
I never truly understood what it meant to love. I never thought about it or cared to express it through my art. But through our sessions, I began to understand that Rosenna needed love. She needed a man who was able to value her. To see her. To understand her.
My flower had rejected my confession. Granted, it was probably too soon, considering we've only been together for a short time. She'd also made it clear several times that there was no 'together,' that there was no 'us.' Part of me wanted to laugh at that. Thinking it was utterly ridiculous that she thought there could be any other outcome.
I knew her better than anyone, better than her clueless husband who failed to see her brilliance, her control and dominance, her depth. It was ridiculous that she believed she could walk away from me, from what we shared. No, from what we have.
The other part, the annoying part of me that suddenly wanted to understand how to feel, understood her conflicting mind. Pitied it almost as she was fighting her heart and mind at the same time.
With my hands caked in clay, I leaned my head back as the paintings and portraits that surrounded me mocked me through the silence. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything. Maybe I should've stayed quiet. Allow our fire to burn a little more and my obsession to grow even greater. But my devotion had become much more than my fixation and addiction to her. Our relationship had evolved into much more than simply lustful art sessions or passionate, mindless, and starved sex.
She didn't realize she could change me, and neither did I. But I did change. I never cared about anything before... but now, the one thing I care about is her. My obsession, jealousy, anger, envy, possessiveness... all of it is because of her. And she wasn't willing to accept it.
If you wanted the world, Rosenna.. I would give it to you. I would give you fucking everything.
It still wasn't fucking enough.
YOU ARE READING
The Art of Discretion - DISCRETION SERIES BOOK #6
RomanceDISCRETION SERIES - Stand Alone - BOOK #6 "O-one portrait," I whispered, and he replied. "That's all I want, Rose." He said, sounding very sensual, and I gulped softly as I rubbed the back of my neck. "I-I guess I c-could," I replied, and he let out...