August
I’d thrown down a gauntlet earlier than I’d anticipated and admitting that Sasha had managed to rile me picked at my brain. She had a way about her, far more formidable than I’d originally thought. Her paintings were certainly clear signs that she had many incredible layers, all masked by the requirements from her father. The thought was intriguing given Drummand’s outrageous proclivities. Discovering the woman hidden under the mask of steel would be my greatest joy.
Even if I had to break her in order to do so.
Sasha was skittish but inquisitive, a powerful combination. As she unlocked the door, I could almost hear her heart beating, taste her hint of fear. It was exhilarating. The room was expansive, warehouse style with windows covering two of the walls. Everything about the space was exactly as I’d pictured, radiating her talent and her need to keep this aspect about her personal life secret.
“This is pretty much it,” she said wistfully as she dropped her purse, folding her arms as she paraded through the various easels. Watching the myriad expressions on her face was fascinating, my cock throbbing from raw desire. She fingered several of the incomplete paintings as she sashayed, obviously critiquing her own work as she moved from one to another. When she was finished, she headed toward the set of floor-to-ceiling windows at the far end of the room, the greatest distance away from me.
I stood in the same position, one hand in my pocket and the other firmly wrapped around the handle of the bag. Blank canvases were leaned against almost every open wall, paints scattered on two separate tables in vivid hues. Larger cans with lids barely attached indicated she’d been here recently. Drop cloths were folded neatly, stacked in the corner, blotched from dried paint. There was a single chair in the room, an ornate wooden hardback that had certainly seen better days and an actual boom box with several CDs located close. The only extravagance was high dollar lights placed in various positions and directed toward all four corners of the room.
She stood with her head against the glass, staring out as if she could see the lights of the city. There was no chance. I knew the section of town well, the area crime-ridden with drug dealers on almost every corner. What few businesses had moved into the area were struggling to cope with turf wars. I had yet another reason to assert my authority on the pricks causing destruction. They would pay for their sins.
Exhaling, I walked toward one of the tables, clearing a space before dropping the bag. She’d already figured out our meeting wasn’t by chance. The fact I’d brought champagne would only fuel her defiance. My blood boiled at the thought. This wasn’t about seduction in my mind but about the first step in full ownership; however, I needed her trust in whatever limited fashion was possible. For now.
Sasha heard the popping sound of the cork, narrowing her eyes as she looked in my direction. “Champagne. Do you have chocolates and roses stuffed in that bag as well?”
I finished pouring two glasses, casually walking closer. I stopped in front of the first painting, the one she was working on, taking a sip in front of her and easing the second glass onto the tray-style table. She was as curious as before, perhaps longing for my continued admiration of her work. Her eyes darted down to the glass. “If you’d like a glass of champagne, Sasha, you’re going to need to come to me and explain your work.”
Her hand fluttered across her face and even from where I was standing, I was able to see a shimmering flush floating across her cheeks. She hesitated, finally leaning away from the window.
“I’m not a patient man, Sasha, and you’ll learn soon enough that I expect my commands to be followed.”
“I didn’t know that was a command.”
“You do now.”
Her eyes shifted down the length of me but within a few seconds, she took slow steps in my direction, her expression one of confusion. She was fighting her desires. When she was finally standing in front of me, I fisted her hair, twisting her neck toward me. “You have no sense of discipline.”
To her credit, she didn’t whimper, merely kept her eyes open wide.
“You may ask for what you want.”
A full minute ticked by, of which I refused to blink, making certain she understood that while I might provide leniency tonight, I was in absolute authority over her needs and desires. The hardening of her nipples against the silky material of her dress gave her away.
Her hunger was in full bloom.
“May I please have a glass of champagne?” she asked, her tone little more than a whispered purr. The sound filtered into my ears, comforting in a manner she could never understand.
She could be taught to obey.
The silky feel of her strands of hair made my balls tighten. “Much better and you may.” Releasing her, I wrapped my hand around the second glass. She accepted, her breath skipping. “Now, tell me about your painting. Do not hold back or I’ll be forced to punish you.”
“Punish,” she repeated. The only sign she was nervous was a slight shimmer of perspiration covering the tops of her cheeks. She blinked once before turning her attention to her painting, although her hand was white-knuckled holding the glass. “I noticed a lovely young girl sitting in a coffee shop by herself surrounded by books. She seemed lonely but as I watched her, every few sentences she read, she blushed as if having a delicious and very dark secret. I envisioned the kind of images she must be seeing in her mind. Depraved. Erotic. Or simply enchanting.”
“Fascinating. Why did you choose the darker side of sex?”
She swallowed, nervously taking a sip of the champagne. By the way she reacted, the bubbles must have tickled, fizzing in her mouth.
I gripped her neck, yanking her forward until only her glass was between us. This time, she whimpered, her entire body trembling in my hands. I took several deep breaths before crushing my mouth over hers, immediately thrusting my tongue inside.
Her hand wrapped around my jacket, fisting and tugging as our tongues entwined. She was tense, pushing against me for several seconds. I knew the instant she accepted my control, relaxing as a single strangled sound erupted around the moment of passion. The taste of her was exquisite, my cock pushing hard against the far too tight confines of my pants. I was ready to take her, stripping the beautiful ingenue of whatever perceived dignity she had, but this was merely the beginning.
The bleak darkness that had scoured my soul years ago surfaced. Everything about this woman, from her air of vulnerability to her utter disdain for anything and anyone refusing to follow the basic rules of humanity was a temptation I couldn’t resist.
I wanted her broken, taken to the very base of her being, begging for every aspect of my adoration. I needed her swept away from the life she believed garnered respect, ripping away the mask that kept her from tasting the dark side.
The fuel burning deep within was sick, depraved and at this point, I could barely contain the devil.
But somehow, my heart and soul had already accepted the fact that she would be the one breaking down my walls, exposing the truth.