Sebastiano Luciani, fue un pintor de la escuela veneciana.
Al principio fue músico, solista de laúd, y muy solicitado entre la nobleza veneciana. Más tarde se convirtió en alumno de Giovanni Bellini y luego de Giorgione. Trabajó con Rafael y fue amigo de Miguel Ángel.
Okay chapter 4 is written! Its after midnight here and I need to go to bed. I’ll edit tomorrow, if I have the juice. Here is an unedited sneak peek of two scenes…
Fic: Sin
Note: you will need an A03 account to keep filling this fic, like all my works. See warnings on the fic link.
Whole chapter is about 6,300 words so far! Hope you’re ready!
You’re not sure why you said yes to this one, maybe it's that little part of you that feels guilty about Pacho, or the even smaller part that still wants to hold on to a piece of Miguel.
You haven’t spent a lot of time with him recently due to a mix of avoidance and fearing he’ll look into your eyes long enough to know your secret. While a third part of you wants him to find out, it wants to see the look in his eyes once he knows you’ve been fucking the man he hates.
Your eyes drift to the live band on stage. As you reach for your glass, his hand returns to your lower back. He walks his fingers up to the open part of the dress, then strokes your bare skin with his fingertips. The sensation moves over your skin, a wave of pleasure reaching the deepest parts of you, made all the better by the look in his brown eyes.
Holding his gaze, you sip your drink, then look at the stage again. You feel his eyes burning into you, the desire in him washing over you, making you feel even sexier than you already feel in this dress. It’s by far the most expensive one you’ve ever worn. A gift from him for this event, along with the jewelry and shoes. You truly feel like a million bucks.
…
Stopping in the kitchen for a snack, you eye a few things in the cabinet and eventually settle on something. You were trying to eat light. This afternoon is your cousins' son's birthday party and there will be a ton of food there. You have just enough time to snack, wrap his gift, and maybe change clothes.
Before you could eat your snack, your phone rings. Going over to the closest one, you pick it up and instantly smile when the other person speaks.
“Miss me already?” You ask flirtatiously, leaning against the wall.
“No,” Pacho replies, you can hear that devilish little grin on his lips. “Not at all.”
“Well, maybe I don’t miss you either.”
He chuckles at your response before speaking again.
Two days after Panama was the first time you got his call. It was late and you were getting ready for bed. Part of you wondered if you were making it up, was it really him on the other side of the phone? To your delight it was.
More soon! As usual, preview to tumblr, full chapter on A03.