Tasting
Chapter 64

64–Paint My Nipples

Nora:

My wolf left me puzzled. I couldn’t chat with her much because I had to rush out and make a call to Natalya, just to check on her.

“Who are you ringing?” Cain’s sudden appearance caught me off guard. I thought he’d be in his studio. Perhaps he couldn’t work due to stress over his father’s disappearance.

“Natalya!” I uttered, peering down at my phone, but once again, her phone was turned off.

“She might be deep in the woods right now,” he replied, his scent slowly wafting into my nostrils.

“I’m so stressed about Natalya and dad,” I said, sighing and plopping onto the couch, getting comfortable with my legs dangling down.

“I get why you’re worried about dad, but Natalya? I’m sure if anyone’s safe out there, it’s her,” Cain said, leaning over me, resting his hands on the counter on either side of my thighs, ensuring our faces were level, so we could gaze into each other’s eyes.

I wasn’t sure if he realized how intense his eye contact could be, but since he didn’t seem affected, I acted like I wasn’t intrigued either.

“I understand, but her wolf–,” I began to repeat myself, and Cain just chuckled to silence me.

“Is unpredictable, blah blah blah,” his lips moved so gracefully when he talked, “she also has your stepbrothers with her. So, if you don’t

trust her wolf, trust theirs.”

That’s exactly why I worried about her. My stepbrothers weren’t very reliable when it came to taking care of someone.

“You don’t trust us, do you?” Cain noted, raising his brow. He was vigilant. His eyes tracked every movement of the person he interacted with.

“I don’t trust them,” I confessed, but it only made his brow raise even higher.

“What about me?” he asked, tilting his head. I noticed a slight smirk on his lips, making my heart flutter at the way he looked at me.

“You–,” I paused as his eyes narrowed further, “I don’t know.” With a shy smile, I lowered my head, focusing on my hands in my lap.

“There is no way you don’t know, tell me,” he uttered, bringing his face even closer to mine. i got to see how deep his eyes were. they were so soothing.

“Maybe i trust you a little,” i wasn’t lying to him. he made me change my mind.

“Aha! i thought i was in the same list as them. what made you change your mind?” the more he talked, the more i urged to shove my tongue down his throat and even when it was wrong, it felt like the only right thing to do in the moment.

“Why do you blush so much around me?” He never let anything pass. If he noticed something, he had to comment on it.

“I don’t.” I replied, without lifting my head.

“Do you want to see your painting?” His voice softened even more. I raised my head, and our eyes met once again.

“You finished it?” I inquired, surprised. I thought he was too stressed to do anything, but I guess painting helped him relax.

“I did,” he nodded, giving slight jerks to his head, causing his hair to bounce and fall into his eyes. I watched his face and the unruly strands bothering his sight. All I wanted to do was gently push his hair off his face before he did it himself.

“What?” he queried again, not yet fixing his hair.

“Your hair-.” I pointed delicately.

“Can you fix it?” he lowered his face for me to get a good view of his crown, looking at me through his eyebrows.

“Sure!” It felt like a wish granted. I quickly raised both my hands, stopping near his head, and then gently ran my fingers through his hair.

Oh sweet Goddess, have mercy on me and my little heart.

His hair was so smooth, and they smelled so good. If I could, I would bury my face in his head and inhale the scent until there is nothing left. I then gently touched my fingertips to his eyes, brushing the strands. away from his vision.

“Alright! Thank you,” he suddenly pulled away, walking over to the refrigerator to grab a can of soda.

“Follow me,” after retrieving the can, he ordered me, and I trailed behind him to his studio like a lost kitten.

Once inside, I found my painting facing the other side, placed in the middle of the studio. With my heart pounding loudly, I walked to the painting and noticed the moonlight from the window illuminating it.

When I say my jaw hung low, I really mean it.

Every stroke was done so perfectly. But not only that, the exaggerated details made my heart skip a beat.

Wow!” I exclaimed as he settled beside the canvas, facing me and sipping from the can.

His eyes narrowed as he gazed at me, while I was engrossed in studying myself in the painting.

“I didn’t realize I looked this good,” I shyly remarked, noticing how he intricately detailed my breasts.

I remembered covering them, but he made the fabric transparent and even depicted a reflection of my nipples. A tingling sensation spread across my skin, causing goosebumps as I imagined him painting them.

What thoughts must have crossed his mind while capturing these details?

“Do you like it?” he inquired, and took slow steps towards me, only to turn and position himself behind me.

“I love it, it’s perfect–” I turned around abruptly, expressing my delight in an excited tone, unaware of how close he was standing to me, causing my chest to brush against his.

My words trailed off, and I raised my gaze to meet his, both of us locked in a silent exchange. The silence grew thick, and an awkward tension lingered, yet neither of us looked away or spoke.

My heart pounded in my cars, pondering where this silence would lead us. It was evident that he, too, was lost in the moment; otherwise, he would have averted his gaze from mine. Just then, a familiar voice interrupted.

“Nora?” It was Lord Atwood.

“Dad’s home,” my smile widened, elated by the news. However, as I turned to rush out of the room to greet Natalya and Lord Atwood, Cain grasped my arm and pulled me back, as if unable to resist any longer.

Before I knew it, he cupped my face in his hands, his lips inching closer to mine.