My Body, His Canvas
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- Parts 13
My body was the canvas he'd paint with his love bites and my heart was the glass bottle he'd empty then throw against the walls so it could shatter and break into a million bits. My mind was the one part of me still holding on to the thought that perhaps there was some good left in him and that all I had to do was wait until he'd reveal that good in him to me. But then he never did...
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He shook his head, coming in even closer and leaned down to whisper in my ear, "Because I make you real wet." He pulled back and smirked at me. Fuck...
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