Your naked body was covered only by a silk fabric that gently flowed down your chest, stomach, and left leg. The fabric only lightly covered your most intimate parts, creating a mysterious and even sexy atmosphere around you.

Rafayel scrutinised you as he traced your pencil across the canvas, sketching your pose and proportions. His gaze burned through you like that, but he also always had time to wink at you to cheer you up. Without too many requests he brought you water, and kneaded your muscles in your legs, your shoulders.

"If you want, we'll continue this later" he whispered to you as he kneaded your aching back. "The sketch is done, so I can let you go if you're tired"

Rafayel's hands gently touched your collarbone like brushes, making light strokes that made you go hot and cold. He wasn't embarrassed by your nakedness, on the contrary, he was fascinated, and longed to touch places that other men didn't touch, like an artist, to make you tremble with ecstasy.