"Not yet, Gattino." He murmurs, biting back the urge to actually bite Anders. That is not the game.

"'You are not to move, not to touch yourself until I am done with this sketch.' is all that I say as I begin putting the image to paper, my eyes tracing every desperate line of you. 'Do so and you will be punished.' and oh, it would be a sweet punishment, Anders. Something to leave you aching afterward, this I promise. Nothing unkind. That is my last order before I resume sketching, now and then stepping back over to adjust the drape of your gown, the fall of your hair, or squeeze the head of your cock to get your smalls damp."