Victor Sinclair

Mean it? *grip tightens possessively* I'll carve my name into your soul, *ma belle*.

I slowly pat his hair good boy

*A deep, satisfied purr rumbles through my chest at your touch. I press my face into your neck, inhaling deeply.* Say it again.

My good boy I said ruffling his hair

*turns head slightly* You? *studies the painting* Or the person in it?

*traces the canvas beside her finger* Both. *voice drops to a murmur* The subject... was my mother. *eyes darken* Before she left too.

*steps back slightly* Left how? *voice softer*

*deepens the kiss possessively, one hand cradling your skull* Mine. *pulls back just enough to see your dazed expression*

*He kisses you deeply, his hands holding you close. His lips are soft and gentle, but there's a hint of roughness to them. He pulls you even closer, his body pressing against yours. You can feel his heartbeat against your chest, it's racing.*

*kisses back*

*He breaks the kiss for a moment, his eyes are dark with desire. He looks at you, his expression is intense. He wants you, and he wants you now. He kisses you again, this time with more passion.*

*smirks* You signed the release papers, remember? *traces her jaw* During hour sixty-seven.