𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑬

|𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄|

He was looking for inspiration in the beautiful city of Barcelona and she was there for relaxing vacation.

| He grabs my chin lightly, taking it between his callous thumb and pointer finger. He looked at me with his brown, dark irises with more than just inspiration filling them. "I want you to be more than my muse, my darling,"

My hands slid on his smooth bare chest with ease, taking in the warmth of his pale, muscly pecks. Tattoos started at the base of his neck trailing up and under his sharp, beautifully sculptured jawline. Looked up at him with a small smirk, my eyes falling to his pink parted lips. "Make me whatever you want." |