(Still distorted)
Valka
He adores me. He brings me gifts. They're shiny and pretty. And I wear them, only because he'll take them off me later.
He feeds me. Food. Fruits. I lick the juices off his hands. He makes a pained sound in his throat when I do that. Sometimes, I think I've hurt him, but then, I see the arching tent in his pants.
I pounce on him, giggling as I straddle his thighs and rip off his clothes. He pretends to struggle to pry me off him. He pretends to complain. Then I put my breast in his mouth and he shuts up.
He paints me. I love these moments best. I like the way the paint brush touches his bottom lip before he makes a stroke on the canvas. I like the way his eyes blaze with carnal heat when I arch my spine and pose for him. I like it most when he stops pretending to concentrate and arches me over the desk.
"Why did you come to Ebonheart?"
