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In the main gallery, Marcus was lighting the dozens and dozens of candles around the perimeter of the giant room. Claire looked up, relieved to find a sprinkler system in the ceiling.
Marcus wasn't wearing a shirt, and Claire couldn't be sure if it was his lack of shirt in an otherwise formal environment or the lighting of the candles which had caused the room to go quieter and talk to turn to whispers. Marcus had a black dragon tattoo on his back that wrapped around one side of his torso.
Ari took Claire's hand and pulled her back to the middle of the room with the rest of the guests, as Kane and Saskia went to the area of the gallery Claire thought of as “the front” because of the way the paintings were displayed.
Kane's fingertips trailed over the dragon as he passed the other man, eliciting a small shiver. Marcus paused in his candle lighting when Saskia was within reach of him. He gripped the back of her neck possessively, pulling her in for a hungry kiss. She melted against him, unconcerned with the crowd of people now watching the front of the gallery with rapt attention. He whispered something in her ear. She nodded. Then he nodded. He and Kane exchanged a glance. It was all very cryptic.
Marcus went back to lighting the candles. When all of them were lit, he disappeared for a moment into the hallway, and the lights went out. In the lower light, Claire noticed she and Ari stood in a circle of illumination. She looked up to see the two of them were just under the skylight, the full moon shining down on them.
Her attention was called back to the front by a spoon tapping against a glass. “May I have your attention,” Kane said. He stood in front of a table with a large crystal bowl on it.
The room fell silent. Anticipation hung on the air, concentrated most heavily with thetouristsin the back. They stood closer together as if they were about to spend the night in a haunted house and were now having doubts about it. Too late now. The ink was dry on the NDA's.
“I'm Jacob Hunter,” Kane said. “Saskia and I are so pleased to have you here. All twenty-four pieces that were for sale have now sold. Congratulations to all who acquired the art they wanted. I heard rumors there was some fighting over a couple of them.”
A smattering of polite laughter from the group.
Kane continued, “You all signed non-disclosure agreements before being allowed inside. As you know, that wasn't because of anything forbidden in Saskia's art, but something forbidden in my own. I have my own piece to share with you. Let's get started. If you purchased one of my lovely pet's paintings tonight, please raise your hand.”
Ari and about ten other people—three women, the rest men—raised their hands. Several must have bought more than one painting. Marcus moved through the candlelit room and handed a white envelope to each buyer.
“Please read your cards,” Kane said.
Ari opened the envelope and pulled out the card. The engraved black ink was legible under the moonlight coming in from above them, but other buyers took their cards closer to one of the many lighted candelabras to read. Ari held his card so that Claire could see it, too.
Thank you for purchasing an original Saskia Roth. You will be allowed to touch, fondle, lick, suck, and fuck the art entitled Gift with Purchase for a period of five minutes for each piece you purchased. Enjoy.
Claire's eyes widened. “What art is someone going to want to do that to?” she whispered.
“Saskia is the art,” Ari said.
“Oh.” Suddenly the implications of the stranger who had bought six paintings became clear. He would get thirty minutes to do whatever he wanted with Saskia, in front of the entire gallery of people. She looked around at the guests with cards, wondering which one of them was Logan. Some of the buyers had raised an eyebrow upon reading the card. Some had lascivious smiles on their faces. Some seemed to be trying to figure out just what they could do in the time allotted to them.
Ari turned to Claire, watching her, no doubt waiting for a reaction.
“What are you going to do with her?” she whispered.
Ari leaned in close to her ear. “I'm going to fuck her, gently, slowly, but I'm not going to finish. When the timer rings, I'm coming for you. I'm going to finish inside you right here in this gallery.”
Claire was suddenly so turned on she couldn't think. Wasn't she supposed to be jealous? Cry? Be angry? But all she felt was the steady throbbing pulse of growing arousal between her legs.
“I want you to watch me with her,” he continued, practically growling the words in her ear.
“Yes, Master,” she whimpered in response.
“Good girl.”
Kane spoke again. “When you've read your card, please put it back inside the envelope, and don't share it with the others around you. When your name is called, you will turn in your card. Marcus will set the timer based upon the number of paintings you purchased. You may decline your time if you don't wish to participate, but you cannot sell or trade it to anyone.
Those of you who did not purchase a painting are welcome to engage in whatever lewd acts you wish amongst yourselves. We have party favors for everyone. Please feel free to take one.” Kane pulled a familiar white tube out of the crystal bowl behind him. “Ladies, I promise you, it's like nothing you've ever experienced.”
A tall good-looking man with hawkish features carried a chair and cello across the front of the room. He placed the chair near Kane and sat.
“Nolan, play something dark. Give us some music to fuck to.”
“You know I bought a painting,” Nolan said.
“We'll give you a five-minute break,” Kane replied smoothly.
