Chapter 4 Canal Desires.

Ava slowly blinked awake as the first rays of morning sunlight filtered through the dingy apartment windows. A contented smile played across her lips as she stretched languorously between the rumpled sheets, relishing the delicious ache permeating her limbs.

It had been far too long since she'd woken up feeling this...satisfied. At peace. Despite all the turbulence and anguish Malcolm put her through, their frenzied reunions never failed to leave Ava feeling gloriously unshackled, like she'd been exorcised of all her pent-up demons.

Her emerald eyes drifted over to where Malcolm sat at the edge of the mattress, naked as the day he was born. The defined ridges of his toned back rippled beneath tanned skin as he hunched forward, his shaggy dirty blonde locks spilling over the taut muscles and tousled with bedhead.

With a devilish grin, Ava slid up behind him, letting the crumpled top sheet fall away to reveal her lithe form. She pressed herself flush against Malcolm's muscular frame, the softness of her bare breasts moulding to the hard planes of his shoulder blades as she wrapped her arms around his chiselled torso.

"Mmmm...Good morning, handsome," Ava purred contentedly into the nape of Malcolm's neck, placing a gentle kiss on the sensitive flesh. He shivered at the intimate contact, then reached behind to give her hand an affectionate squeeze.

"Hey there, gorgeous," came his low, gravelly baritone in reply. Ava beamed with pride at the raspy tone-she knew that delicious scratch could only mean one thing after their rapturous reunion.

Following Malcolm's intense gaze, Ava's eyes landed on the large framed canvas propped against the far wall. It was one of her most stirring, visceral pieces yet-a hyper-realistic depiction of herself in the nude, body twisted in a grotesquely beautiful pretzel as she was bound by thick iron chains. The tortured musculature of her petite frame strained against the shackles as she appeared to be dragged across a dreamscape of swirling cumulonimbus clouds by an unseen beast.

Ava felt a surge of wicked glee at the smouldering look of desire and appreciation Malcolm levelled at the painting. She knew that look well-the way those stormy grey eyes seemed to bore straight through the canvas and into the erotic fantasy itself.

"Something on your mind?" she prodded with a teasing lilt, splaying her fingers across the rippled canvas of his abdomen in a meandering caress.

Malcolm's brow furrowed as though deep in contemplation. After a loaded pause, he gave a slow shake of his tousled head. "Just in awe as always, Aves. The darkness and complexity of your art, it's..." He exhaled a rueful chuckle. "Jesus, sometimes I think your heart really is too damn corrupted for this cruel world. But that's what makes your talent so depraved...so intoxicating."

The wolfish grin that crept across Malcolm's full lips sent an involuntary shiver of excitement and arousal fluttering through Ava's core. Despite everything, she couldn't deny that hearing such twisted adulation from her forbidden muse stoked the fires of inspiration like nothing else.

With a sly, playful giggle, Ava tugged the rumpled bed sheet up to preserve a sliver of modesty and reclined back against the pillows, smiling up at Malcolm through her tousled chestnut locks. "So you...approve of your protégé's efforts, master?" she purred, batting her long lashes as she traced abstract patterns across his back with her fingertips.

That wolfish grin stretched into a full-blown predatory smirk as Malcolm turned to gaze hungrily upon Ava's splayed form. "I'd say you're in dire need of some more...hands-on instruction this morning, my depraved little student."

With that low rumble, he pounced-deftly snatching away the sheet's flimsy protection as Ava squealed in mock protest. Powerful hands seized her by the hips, yanking her petite frame fully into his lap in one controlled swoop. As fevered kisses rained across her collarbones and breasts, Ava surrendered herself to the maelstrom with reckless abandon...

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Ava made her way down the dingy stairwell of her rundown apartment building, no longer in her usual frantic rush to get to the diner. She replayed the final heated moments with Malcolm before reluctantly peeling herself away from his embrace. Their bodies had moved together frantically, all tangled limbs and breathy gasps as he pinned her beneath him.

A private smile crept across her lips at the lingering aches and sensations. In those moments of intimacy, the world beyond ceased to exist - it was just her and Malcolm joined in rapturous passion. But her good mood quickly soured thinking about it further.

That was the core issue - as electrifying as their reunions were, that erotic charge between them couldn't sustain itself. Once the frenzy dissipated, there was...nothing truly binding them beyond fleshly cravings. With Malcolm, intimacy was like a dangerous drug Ava could never resist, no matter how poisonous the comedown proved.

Stepping outside, she tugged her thin hoodie tighter against the morning chill. The reality of Malcolm's empty promises flooded back, deflating her post-coital glow. When he vaguely mentioned some "business in LA" before she left, Ava had felt a glimmer of naive hope for a fresh start. But she knew better - that would inevitably collapse under the weight of Malcolm's eternal insecurities and self-sabotage.

As the cab pulled up, Ava slid into the backseat, jaw setting in determination. This reunion would be the final round before walking away from Malcolm for good. No more drinking that tainted chalice of his warped desires and her own darkest impulses. If she was fated to plumb the depths of artistic depravity, it would be entirely on her own terms - not as his malleable muse or plaything.

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