AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His eyes didn’t leave hers as he slid the fabric over her curves. “You’re wearing this to lunch. I’m sure your master will like it as much as I do.” He guided her down to the floor and pressed her gently back. The cool marble kissed her skin through the cotton.
“Spread your legs.”
She hesitated. “I...”
Marcus shoved the gown up over her hips and pressed her legs open. He stared at her smooth, bare mound.
“I always wondered how you kept it.”
She hadn’t kept it before she’d started traveling on Quill’s endless dimes. But on a lark she’d gotten a Brazilian two stops before Venice and had maintained it. She liked the way it felt to slip her fingers underneath her panties and find nothing but sensitive flesh, ready for pleasure with no obstructions. And she’d known if she were to meet a man in Italy, he might also enjoy it. She just hadn’t expected it to be Quill. Or Marcus.
He pressed his palm flat against the smooth skin and dragged his finger across her opening. She could already feel herself growing wet, unable to resist the gentle way he stroked her. He bent between her legs, and then it was his tongue doing the stroking. At first, she was tense, ever aware of the cameras that watched her, afraid Quill might be angry even though he’d practically given her to Marcus on a platter.
But Marcus’s insistent expert tongue pressing inside her soon made her forget someone else might be observing. She twisted, unsure if she was trying to escape him or move closer. He gripped her wrists and held her down as if she could otherwise get away. Within minutes, she came, writhing against his mouth and moaning his name.
“Sir,” he corrected, when she finished.
Any normal man might have been pleased to have her body on display for him as his name dripped off her lips. And so soon after being left alone together. But Marcus was cut from part of the same cloth as Quill. She wondered if the two men were perhaps closer friends than their employer/employee status suggested.
Saskia averted her gaze.
“What do you say to me?”
Off Saskia’s confused look he said, “Politeness... gratitude for the pleasure?”
“Oh. Thank you, sir.”
He nodded and helped her up off the cold floor.
Back in the gallery, she was drawn immediately to the painting Quill had created while she’d hung in chains. He’d captured her at just the right angle. He’d gotten the stripes on her back, but he’d also gotten the hint of her waxed pussy as her lower half twisted toward him.
His voice reverberated in her mind,Yes, let me see that lovely cunt. Arch toward me.
Saskia saw the collar painted around her throat, the heavy chains at her wrists, the pained expression on her face.But if she were a casual viewer walking by this painting in a gallery, she would have skipped all that and seen only the eyes.
Somehow he’d painted her in such a way that all of her longing for him clashed against all her fear and the almost-dead tinge of resentment and masked defiance. It was all so stark and naked in oil. If he could get it on the canvas, he had to know. If he knew he could do anything to her, and she’d still look at him in that starved, desperate way... what was stopping him?
7
Saskia shielded her eyes from the glaring late afternoon sun. She was famished. Quill had lunch set up outside on the terrace, but there was only one plate of sandwiches and one goblet of tea, along with a pitcher to refill it. Next to the plate was one bowl of strawberries. Nothing had been set aside for her.
Quill extended a hand. Would one of the servants bring something for her? Was he going to eat all of this by himself? Marcus was suddenly nowhere to be found, and she felt self-conscious in the semi-sheer gown he’d dressed her in.
She went to Quill. His arm encircled her waist, slipping underneath the lightweight fabric.
One of the servants stepped outside then, carrying a large cushion. She placed it next to his chair and left without a word.
“On your knees,” Quill said, nudging her.
Saskia knelt beside him, and he started to eat.
“Did you wear that for me?”
“Yes, Master.” There was no sense in bringing Marcus’s tastes into it. She wasn’t sure the information would be appreciated.
He nodded. “I like it, but I want you to take it off and kneel with your legs spread for me.”
He watched as she took the gown off and positioned herself on the cushion like he’d asked.
