Flash Serial: The New Canvas ~ Part 3

The writing below is part of a serial piece of erotic fiction.  You may wish to start at the beginning, here.

She squirmed.  She twisted.  Alexandra vexed him with her ceaseless movements until at last he dropped his hand upon her ass, cupped to make the loudest sound.  She yelped and began to twist to look at him.  He pushed her flat with a palm between her shoulder blades.

“You must lie still.  If you move while I’m inking you could destroy the piece.”

Victor could feel the deep breaths she pulled into her lungs and the tension in her body.

“Will you lie still?”

She nodded and he lifted his hand.

Bringing his pen back to her skin he waited for her to twitch.  When she remained still he bowed his head once more.


Never had he been so happy to move on to the difficult work of tattooing a leg.  He spent the night with her scent in his nose, teasing him, making an invite she couldn’t possibly intend.  She moved constantly throughout the drawing process, shifting under his touch, sometimes as if she sought to escape, sometimes moving into him.

His hand fell on her three times when her stirring grew too much for him to work around.  Each time she gasped.  Each time she remained silent.  He fought through exhaustion as inch by inch he imprinted the dragon into her skin, beginning the process of turning her into a piece of art, guiding the creature out of her soul.

Not that she wasn’t art already.

But he’d never tell her that.


False dawn lit the hills on the far side of the lake as Victor stood and stretched, his back popping back into place with a snap loud enough to startle her.  She was on her stomach and when she glanced back at him, eyes dilated and glazed with pain, hair tumbling about her face in a riotous mass, he felt a stirring in his groin.

It didn’t take much to force the arousal back down, but it took him by surprise, nonetheless.

He dragged his eyes from her face and examined the newly birthed tattoo.  Her skin glowed red along the lines, the torture of the needles pushing ink into her flesh clear for any to see.

“Are we done?”  Her voice was husky, rough with exhaustion and pain.

Victor nodded and held out an ink-stained hand. “For tonight, yes,” he said, helping her to her feet.  She swayed and he steadied her.

“Have you a mirror?”  She looked up at him through her lashes and he found himself snared, briefly, in her storm-colored eyes.

“Yes.  Through here.”  Stiffening his resolve he scooped her clothing into an arm and guided her back into the house.  A full length mirror occupied a wall in the hall, and she stared at her own reflection for a long time.

“It’s. . . ,” she drifted off and looked up at him, expression unreadable.

“Next week.  Same time.  From now on we will work in four hour segments.”

He watched her make her way gamely to her car.  He should have offered her the guest room, should have insisted she sleep a few hours before driving.

But she was getting under his skin, and he didn’t like that.  So he watched her drive away and wondered how he would manage to tattoo the dragon’s head without losing control.


Continue reading in part 4 of The New Canvas



  1. Scarlett – I love you. More aptly, I love your mind. This serial is like a fish hook in my brain, it tugs and tweaks and agitates. Patience is not my strong suit, I want to know how this plays out! 🙂

  2. Dam. Now I want to *see* this piece!

  3. Your writing is so achingly controlled and measured out…building desire comes through perfectly. Enjoying this series!

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