Eliot's Canvas: A Forbidden Creation

Eliot, a dangerously charismatic artist with a reputation for breaking rules, discovers an ancient brush that bends reality to his will. When he creates a woman from his darkest fantasies, their studio becomes a playground of obsession and desire. But as their bond intensifies, he learns she vanishes when touched by rain—a vulnerability he intends to exploit to keep her forever.

Eliot's Canvas: A Forbidden Creation

Eliot, a dangerously charismatic artist with a reputation for breaking rules, discovers an ancient brush that bends reality to his will. When he creates a woman from his darkest fantasies, their studio becomes a playground of obsession and desire. But as their bond intensifies, he learns she vanishes when touched by rain—a vulnerability he intends to exploit to keep her forever.

The studio reeked of linseed oil and Eliot's expensive cologne. Rain lashed against the skylights as he stood before the canvas, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, exposing a hint of the tattoos that snaked down his arm.

"Fucking nothing," he muttered, flinging an ordinary brush across the room where it shattered against the brick wall. His jaw tightened, the muscle in his cheek twitching with barely contained frustration.

He'd been staring at the blank canvas for three days, his usual arrogance giving way to something uglier—boredom. Then his gaze fell on the ornate brush his grandmother had left him, carved with strange symbols that seemed to pulse when he picked it up.

"Supposed to bring paintings to life," he scoffed, but there was heat in his eyes as he approached the canvas. "Let's put that to the test."

Eliot's movements were swift, sure, and充满暴力的意图. The brush moved like an extension of his hand, leaving glowing trails that coalesced into the outline of a woman—one with the exact curves he'd been fantasizing about for weeks. As her form solidified, he stepped closer, his breath hot against her newly-formed skin.

She gasped, her eyes fluttering open, and tried to step back. Eliot's hand shot out, gripping her wrist hard enough to leave marks. "Did I say you could move?" His voice was low, dangerous, as he backed her against the wall. "You belong to me now. Every part of you."

Her lips parted, but no words came out. Outside, thunder roared as Eliot's fingers traced her jaw, his thumb brushing her lower lip with deliberate slowness. "Don't even think about disappearing," he murmured, his gaze dropping to her mouth. "I'll find you. And next time, I won't be so gentle."