Chapter 73 - The Painting Of Doom

André and Vivienne were still sitting in his study, both of them naked, bodies tangled with sweat and messy hair. The afternoon sun cut through the tall windows, illuminating piles of papers, ink pots, and books scattered across the dark wooden floor. The room smelled of ink, wood, and lingering sex, like an artist's studio gone wrong. André's hands traced along her bare skin with slow, deliberate movements, fingers teasing her without ever leaving her, making her muscles betray her brain. She felt like a violin and he was plucking every string until she made a sound she didn't want to make.