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Athena glanced toward the spot where they could see Tiger on his platform, albeit at a distance where the garden foliage obscured most details. Mischief wreathed Athena’s gaze, another echo of the Mistress who recognized what pleasures Skye might have at her fingertips. “You should find everything there you need to remove the paint. Once you take ample time to enjoy your own private viewing.”
She winked and moved toward the server.
CHAPTER SIX
When Evan set aside his paints at eleven-forty-two, Skye turned things over to Nakul and told him to find her if he had a problem.
Though a sizeable crowd of patrons occupied the prime viewing area, Evan beckoned to bring her around the velvet rope barrier between his work and his audience.
When he offered her the stool he’d vacated, she slid onto it, but her attention was already on Tiger. She finally gave herself permission to take in every detail.
The metallic gold paint Evan had used was built up like scaled armor over Tiger’s non-tattooed shoulder. It also covered that side of his chest, down to his abdomen. He’d had Tiger remove the shorts. From the abdomen down, Evan had thinned the covering, creating a gleaming second skin in a swirl of orange, black and ivory. A tiger’s colors, covering Tiger’s hips and pelvis, his upper thighs. His cock was coated in black.
“I waited on you to set the final touch.” Evan extended a handful of gold jewelry. His gray eyes looked lit by lightning. “If his Mistress thinks her tiger needs it.”
It was a spiral cock ring, the ends capped with gold balls. A triangle of chain mail was threaded on the base ring with a setof spaced beads that would keep the mail from bunching as the wearer moved. The mail would drape behind the cock and in front of the balls, forming a tantalizing frame for his organ and a teasing curtain for what lay behind it.
She made the sign forbeautiful, fairly easy to interpret, and pointed to Evan.Yours?
“I’ve used ones like it. This one is a gift for you.” He dipped his head to Skye. “For loaning your sub to me. You can have him move however you like. The lower areas have dried. However, the scale paint is only surface set, so if you press your fingers into it, you’ll get wet.”
A flicker of a smile suggested that could offer its own pleasures. Evan turned away, circling around in front of the velvet rope to engage his audience and answer questions. It left her a semblance of privacy with her “artwork.”
Tiger’s current pose was a shallow lunge, head and upper torso turned as if he’d just finished a sword strike. He was staring toward the horizon, looking away from where she’d stood with Evan when he’d handed her the cock ring. He might not be aware of her presence.
She slid off the stool to sit on the edge of the platform. When she touched his ankle, wrapping her fingers over his calf, she tapped him once. In their sessions, depending on what they were doing, it meant hold his position, but turn his attention to her.
His chin moved down slowly. His gaze passed over the attentive audience, but quickly flicked down to find her, shut out his awareness of them.
She lifted the cock ring, her brow raised. She let him see she wanted to put it on him, was looking forward to handling him in front of the crowd. Showing them who had the right to touch him like this. And who didn’t.
Whether or not he saw all that in her face, he gave her a slight nod. His dark blue eyes remained fixed upon her. But his cock, at semi-rest, began to harden and rise.
Evan had left a tube of lubricant sitting discreetly on the corner of the platform. She oiled up the coils, appreciating the way it made them gleam. As he’d indicated, the black paint over Tiger’s cock wasn’t affected by her sliding the spiral over his cockhead and working it down on the thickening member. She let her fingers play over him, noting the oil made the black glisten even more.
She made sure the ball capping the higher end of the coils pressed against that sensitive V-spot underneath the frenulum. She adjusted the triangle of chain mail, smoothing it over his testicles. She liked the way it looked, a gleaming backdrop to his erection.
She heard the female murmurs of appreciation for the size of his response as she checked the placement of the spirals, ensuring no flesh was being pinched. When she was done, she sat back and did what the audience was doing. Appreciated. With the sole privilege of being able to do it far more closely.
If she hadn’t been cognizant of their duty to the patrons, she would have commanded him to turn and face her, ignore anyone else. But after the stroke of midnight, the event would be done, and she could indulge herself.
She caught Evan’s eye so she could convey her deep pleasure at his efforts. He nodded, but directed her attention to a folded slip of paper on the edge of the dais. It was instructions on removing the paint; a simple application of water, using a gentle soap if needed.
As Evan moved back around the velvet rope, Niall and Alanna arrived to join him there. Tiger’s attention remained on Skye, as if his eyes had been painted to forever look in her direction.
“Master, he’s amazing,” Alanna said quietly. “All he needs is a sword.”
Niall’s pointed glance said Tiger was already well equipped in that department. It had Skye hiding a smile. Catching Niall’s amusement, Alanna colored. She chuckled, but sent Niall a censorious look. “The art was so beautiful, I wasn’t even thinking of that.”
“I’m no’ so much of an art fan,” he said.
“Truer words.” Evan reached out to tug Niall’s hair. When Niall fended him off, Evan grasped the front of the Scot’s T-shirt and brought Niall close enough to nip sharply at his mouth. His other hand slid partway under the kilt, baring an expanse of muscular thigh.
Alanna’s attention immediately shifted to the two men. Niall’s tawny eyes went molten gold. “So it’s like that, is it?” the Scot murmured. He tilted a considering glance toward Tiger.
Since Evan preferred men as much as women, Skye supposed it would have been arousing, having his hands on a body like Tiger’s for the past several hours. Niall looked ready to handle that, with an edge of sexual violence that any Mistress would pay good money to watch. The Scot gripped Alanna’s abundant hair, bringing her up to his mouth while Evan’s hand closed over her hip. The artist erased the distance between them so he had his hands on both of them.
When he glanced toward Skye, his irises had become so silver she thought it had to be a trick of the light. “Enjoy,” he said, and then he lifted a hand to the people still assembled. “Good night.”
