AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He pulled Saskia away from her salvaged art and pushed her back on the chaise. He stood straddling her, holding her down against the furniture. “Let me take away your foolish illusions. You know far too much you shouldn’t know. You have information that could destroy my company before the next opening stock bell rang. More than that, you could have me behind bars.”
“I thought you said you wouldn’t go to prison, but I would.”
“That fucking mouth,” he hissed. “If it’s the last thing I do, I will fix that fucking mouth. I said I probably wouldn’t go to prison. But that was about the art theft, not keeping you here as my slave. There is no way out with me, and you don’t want there to be. You love the fucking cage I’ve put you in. Admit it.”
“Fuck you.” She knew she was pushing his buttons, and a part of her was afraid he’d just haul right off and slap her. She’d seen that look in his eyes. He was already holding back, but she just kept pushing. And she wasn’t even sure what she was pushing for. Or why.
But all he did was arch that smug perfect brow. “I said not until you beg. That wasn’t nearly sweet enough for begging.”
Quill got off her and backed up a few feet, giving her space. “Come with me.”
“W-where are we going?”
“We’re going to teach you who you motherfucking belong to, and if after this point you ever forget again and refuse me the title I demanded, there will be hell to pay.”
“Master, I’m sorry.”
Quill laughed in response. “A few seconds too late, I’m afraid.”
He dragged her into the large, open gallery. This time they bypassed the columns with the attached shackles. Instead, he led her to a piece of sex furniture at the north end. It was made of dark stained wood and soft black leather. It looked a like a spanking horse, except the angles were all wrong and part of the furniture dipped in a way that wouldn’t work lying across it on her stomach.
She eyed it skeptically but didn’t say another word as he unbuttoned the artist’s smock he’d just put on her and removed her dress. Silent tears slipped down her cheeks.
What if he decided not to teach her? She’d been so close to the dream of one-on-one instruction from Joseph Quill.That fucking mouthwas right. If not for her smart mouth, they’d be painting right now. After all the drama, who knew if he’d still consider her worth the effort to train her in any art beyond being his slave.
“I’m not punishing you, so you may as well put those tears away.”
The only consolation was that he didn’t know the real reason she was crying.
“You’re not?”
“No. It’s been a fast-paced few days, and it occurs to me that you haven’t had the opportunity to really understand this. Given the unusual nature of things...”
False imprisonment. Coercion. Threats.
“... I’ve gone a bit off script.”
Was that a good thing or a bad thing? It was hard to know with him.
He stepped back and appraised her. She knew from the way he looked at her that he couldn’t escape the desire to have her in the best light, from the best angle—the artist in him constantly setting up the next piece he might paint.
Quill pointed at the furniture. “Sit on it, facing me.”
Oh. Now it made sense. The small concave space of leather was meant for her to sit on.
“Spread,” he said.
Two short, narrow padded benches protruded from the sides of the concave space, meant for her to straddle in a sense. It was something like gynecological exam stirrups, except without the stirrups. Her feet rested on another piece of padded leather that came out from the bottom of each side.
Metal cuffs were built into the furniture, and Quill wasted no time locking them around her ankles. The design of the furniture made her body spread wider than she’d thought possible.
“Are you in pain?” he asked.
“No, Master. I just feel really stretched.”Like one of your canvases.Was that the point?
“Good. Stretching is good for you.” He took her arms and crossed them directly over her head to bind them with the cuffs coming out from the top.
She wasn’t lying flat, but was instead arched at a small angle so she could see him without straining or craning her neck.
