A Stroke of Desire

He is the perfect creation.

Isa is a gifted painter with an eye for design; when she gets her hands on some special paint she labors to bring to life the perfect piece of art.

He is every artist's dream…the perfect creation, the ultimate masterpiece. The culmination of years of practice, dedication and skilled handiwork.

When she starts out, she has no idea what the night will bring…but the incubus in her special painting knows.

Sweet dreams await Isa when she closes her eyes.

~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~

“I like your painting.” He broke the stunned silence with words that made her blink in surprise. His words were in a hushed tone that made her want to lean towards him for more.

“I…Uh…Thank you.” Isa struggled to say the right thing.

“I am very glad you painted it.” He murmured as he stopped at the foot of her bed.

“I’m very glad you like it.” She whispered as her eyes traveled over him. She couldn’t help herself.

A sly grin spread over her his face. He watched her eyes soaking him up, as unable to look away from her as she was unable to look away from him. He liked that she couldn’t seem to tear her gaze away. He liked that he could tell she enjoyed what she saw.

Isa caught herself staring and the prettiest blush he had ever seen spread over her cheeks. It made him grin harder.

She glanced up at him, hoping he had not seen her looking…but of course he had seen her. How could he not have?

Those sparkling shifting eyes saw everything.

She blinked and the incubus knelt before her on the bed, his face inches from hers. She hadn’t seen or heard him move; time skipped around as it could only in dreams.

His nearness made it hard to remember how to draw air into her lungs. She could not stop staring at him. Everything about him allured her; each exquisite detail begged to be examined and praised.

She felt no fear. What made her pulse race and her blood surge had nothing to do with fear.

He dipped his head to breathe against her neck, giving her the gentlest of nuzzles before whispering into her ear. She shivered, a small sigh escaping her.

“I needed you to paint it.”

“Why…Why me?” Her voice had grown husky. He was still pressed close. Her heart had never beat so hard. She could not stop thinking about how good he smelled. How strong and solid…and how little fabric stood between their bare skin touching.

“Because I wanted to…meet you.” His voice had the same husky undertones; she didn’t know if it was his words that made her shiver, the way he said them or both.

Her breathing stuttered. Her heart sped up; it would surely burst if it kept up its frantic pace.

“…Meet…me?”

She nearly came out of her skin when he let out a soft growl. The tip of his tongue glided along her earlobe before he whispered into her ear again. Another shiver wracked her. His tongue felt exactly as she had thought it would…but better. So much better.

“Yes. You.” He breathed the word out in such a way as to steal the strength from her bones. It was a good thing she wasn’t standing. Her legs would not have supported her.