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Bennett Gray, one of her tattoo artist Alphas, was widely known for his hyper-realistic renderings of art on skin, particularly sculpture. “Are we going to see tattoos of some of these?”
“Maybe,” she said, nodding over her shoulder.
Ben was there, backwards baseball cap in tow, taking pictures of a tall sculpture that looked twisted and monstrous. Beautiful too. I needed to get closer to see the details.
“Ready to see it, firefly?” Roman leaned down, resting his chin on my shoulder, which couldn’t possibly be comfortable for him.
“More than ready.”
“It’s over here.”
He led me to the south side of the building, near a huge wall of arched windows that looked out over the river. Morning sunlight poured in through them, lighting up his sculpture.
A long, intricate bench, the female figure laying on top, relaxed. Draped in fabric that covered just enough of her, but not much. In front of her, a kitten was mid-movement, little paws open wide like he was catching the fingers she held out for him, a smile on her face.
It was me.
I hadn’t been able to imagine how I would look rendered in marble, but I didn’t hate it. The way the stone fabric draped over my stone body lookedreal. The curves of the statue appeared soft, and even though Iknewit was stone, I was still surprised at the hardness when I touched it.
“Roman, this is so beautiful.”
“Yeah?”
I couldn’t stop looking at it. The addition of Mango and me smiling was exactly what was needed to tilt the image into the ‘modern’ side of the classic theme.
The statue had been done months ago, but he hadn’t shown me, wanting to keep it for where it was meant to be displayed. He’d been sculpting theotherstatue of me. The one of me naked, and every time I posed for him, he followed through on his promise to fuck me thoroughly after every session.
Or he would wake me up the way I loved, choosing to deny me so that I wouldn’t be able to keep from squirming while I posed before calling one of our other pack members to finish me off.
Sometimes together.
One by one, every promise they made me—sexual or otherwise—was kept.
“It’s stunning,” I said, slipping my arms beneath his suit jacket to hold him. “It looksreal.”
“Come here.” He pulled me around the back of the statue and pointed.
I gasped. “What?” My tattoo was there too, gently etched into the skin. Barely visible unless you were looking for it, but it was there. “Roman, this is amazing.”
“Glad you think so.”
“I do.”
He leaned down, kissing me, the sound of a camera shutter breaking us apart.
“Sorry!” The woman taking a photo smiled. “I’m the photographer for the event and I couldn’t resist. I need some photos of Mr. Hughes with his piece, but I’d love to get some of the two of you, and with your pack as well.”
We helped her, taking photos in various poses. I even got down on the floor in front of it, mimicking the pose, though I kept laughing.
Ash finally pulled me off the floor, dusting me off. Particularly the places where my dress exposed skin. “Are you cleaning me or helping yourself to my body?”
“Both?” He laughed at my look and kissed my nose. “I promise I’m not about to turn you on so much I have to steal you away into a broom closet.”
“That sounds kind of fun, though.”
He growled in my ear. “You have to pick one, sweetheart. Naughty or not.”
“It’s Roman’s day,” I whispered. “I’ll let you fuck me in a closet another time.”
