An Artist's Kiss [Dark Desires 4] (Siren Publishing Sensations)

by Suzy Shearer

  “Love the expression!”

  In her head she began to panic. She knew her expression was one of nervousness and confusion but also desire. She knew perfectly well this was exciting her and with her legs spread wide Gabriel would soon know. The more she tried to ignore her desires the more excited she became. Her nipples had peaked and she could feel her juices running freely. Panicking, she knew there would be a wet spot on the bed.

  Gabriel climbed down and moved toward the foot of the bed, still looking at the last sketch he’d done. Isabella bit her lip to hold back her gasp of fear. He stopped at the end of the bed and raised his eyes. Isabella tried to pull her legs together but the rope held them so far apart. She could easily force them but crazily her mind told her she was tightly bound. There was no way he wouldn’t see as she could feel the moisture running heavily.

  She heard the catch of breath and saw his nostrils flare. He dropped the sketchbook and looked along her body with a look of lust and ownership. Isabella almost groaned aloud as she felt his eyes on her. Her nipples pebbled and hardened to erect points.

  “Issie,” Gabriel gasped.

  His gruff voice held desire and longing.

  He reached out and touched her leg then moved toward the head of the bed, his fingers trailing across her. Isabella breathed hard through her mouth—no, that was wrong. She panted loud and hard. He got to her head and knelt down, his face alongside her ear.

  Whispering he said, “My god, Isabella, I want you. I want you tied to my bed. I want to whip you till you beg me to fuck you. I want to hear you scream. I want to cover your gorgeous body in bite marks to show the world you’re mine. I want to give you so much pleasure and pain.”

  His breath on her made the hair on her neck stand erect. He reached out and touched a nipple ever so lightly. It almost hurt as it became even harder. He took the end of the crop and slowly dragged it off her body. Somehow she held back the groan that threatened to escape.

  “You want it as much as I do.”

  “No,” she gasped. “No. I don’t, it’s…it’s perverted.”

  “What’s perverted, my sweet Issie? Being tied and on display? Being spanked and whipped? Being hurt?”

  She nodded in a panic. He gave a laugh.

  “If it is then I’m perverted because it’s the type of sex I, and thousands of others, thoroughly enjoy. Silly Issie, it’s perfectly normal.”

  She twisted her head suddenly to look at his face, perplexed. He nodded.

  “Thousands and thousands of people prefer their sexual delights a little darker.”

  Panicking she shouted, “Let me go!”

  She struggled against the bonds, against his words torturing her. He stood and quickly untied her but ran a hand along her leg from her ankle, only stopping when he reached her hip. She closed her eyes as she felt it drift across and head down toward the nest between her legs. Alarmed, she pulled away and quickly sat up.

  “Issie, tell me why? Why don’t you give in to what you desire, to what you obviously want?”

  “No, I can’t. No, it’s wrong!” she screamed horrified.

  She leapt to her feet and ran from the room. Racing into the change room, she quickly dressed. When she came out Gabriel was sitting waiting for her. He stood and took one hand, blocking her way out.

  “I want you to do something for me. I don’t know why but you have the wrong idea about some things sexual.”

  Isabella knew she looked terrified and humiliated. To know he knew she’d been aroused by being tied and spread-eagled before him. She didn’t answer.

  “Go home now and do a Google search. Search the term BDSM.”

  Puzzled, she whispered, “Why?”

  “Because, my darling Issie, I think somewhere in your past someone told you a lie about what’s right and wrong sexually. As long as each partner agrees then there is nothing taboo in sex. There is absolutely nothing that is wrong when you both enjoy it. There is nothing shameful about being excited when you’re tied up, when you’re spanked or whipped, when your lover hurts you in a way that you desire.”

  He lifted her head with a hand under her chin.

  “Promise me you’ll look up BDSM and I can assure you there will be thousands and thousands of sites advocating it. Bondage and Dominance. Subs and Doms. Sadism and Masochism.”

  She searched his face, he smiled and nodded.

  “Promise me?”

  She bit her lip.

  Were there really thousands of people who didn’t believe there was anything wrong with having these sinful dark desires? No, it was impossible.

  “Please, Isabella, will you promise?”

  She couldn’t answer but she nodded. He released her and moved to one side so she could dash past him.

  He called, “Come early tomorrow so we can get back to work.”

  She glanced back at him and whispered “yes” then rushed from the studio. All the way home Isabella kept going over what had happened in her mind. She was still upset from Saturday night and then to be spread-eagled in front of Gabriel had brought all her secrets raging about her head. She wanted more, she wanted him—badly.

  As soon as she got home she fired up her computer and typed in BDSM then rocked back on her chair in shock—over 120 million sites!

  Oh my god, how many millions of people must indulge in this hidden dark world?

  Randomly she opened a few sites.

  There it was.

  People who loved being tied up, others who needed to be hurt to enjoy sex. Women and men who loved to dominate others, men and women who submitted. People who loved being flogged, others who wanted people to drip hot wax on their bodies. Still more who loved whipping. Ones that wanted to be physically hurt. Ones who needed blood, needed to cut or be cut. The list went on and on and on. Every sort of dark desire was listed somewhere on the web. Even hundreds that she could have never imagined. It was all there.

  One phrase caught her eye.

  “There is nothing inherently wrong or damaged with people who enjoy and want their sex darker. They are just normal regular people who just enjoy their sex in a different way.”

  It struck a chord with Isabella. Was it true? Was she really just a normal person who wanted things a little different? She read another site.

  “If the thought of being tied up excites you, maybe the thought of being spanked has you all in a flutter? Would you like to have your nipples clamped and hand over control to someone else? You can be as kinky as you like. There is no such thing as perverted or sick as long as all partners agree and enjoy the experience.”

  That was virtually what Gabriel had said—that nothing was wrong as long as both enjoyed it.

  Isabella closed down her computer and sat. Her mind roiled in absolute turmoil. Was it really as simple as this? Had she been avoiding men all these years because the few men she’d been with only liked…? What was the word? Yes—vanilla sex. She’d had sex with only a few men in her life and they had left her completely unsatisfied. With each she’d just lain on her back with them entering her above.

  A tear trickled down her cheek and she brushed it carelessly away. Another soon followed then another as the dam holding them back broke. It felt like her life had been poisoned by one man and she’d wasted so many years thinking she was some kind of perverted freak. Even when she was married, Peter had never done anything except straight so-called normal sex. In fact, once they married he rarely touched her, preferring to get his kicks from others.

  She had no idea how to give oral sex or what it felt like, never had that or anal. She didn’t know any other position but lying on her back. Yes she used a vibrator occasionally but even that embarrassed her, made her feel she was adding to her perversion.

  Through the artist community she’d heard whispers of alternative lifestyles, even heard the phrase BDSM but she’d never associated it with her fears. Because she held herself away from any involvement she’d just never learnt the truth. She actually made herself believe that
sexual enjoyment was only for men, that women were there just so a man could climax. She honestly thought the few times she’d orgasmed through intercourse were just a bonus.

  “Okay, I admit I’m innocent in the ways of sex. Hell, I’m a naïve baby,” she said as she got to her feet. Hitting her forehead with both hands either side, she shouted angrily, “How could I have been so damn stupid?”

  Of course reading about it didn’t automatically make it easy to accept. There were still years of shame and guilt to contend with but this had opened her eyes. Isabella wandered into the kitchen to make a coffee. She wasn’t really concentrating but did manage to brew a mug. Most of her mind still reeled from what she’d read in just a few sites. Just from a half dozen or so and there were millions and millions!

  Suddenly it hit her.

  When she saw Gabriel next he would definitely ask her if she’d done the research he’d suggested. How could she face him? He’d know as soon as he asked and then…

  Then she had a pretty good idea what would happen. She was pretty sure he would seduce her and instruct her in the ways of these dark desires but she still felt terrified. Still had the lingering thought that he would be horrified at her enjoyment.

  When Isabella woke early next morning she lay staring at the ceiling. All night she’d tossed and turned. When she had managed to sleep her dreams had been filled with ropes, candles, whips and all through Gabriel’s face watching her, whispering so softly that even in her sleep she couldn’t hear what he said.

  Groaning, she got out of bed, sleep eluding her again. It was still very early, barely sunrise so she pulled on a pair of tatty jeans and an old T-shirt. She’d go down to the studio to work out her fears in the clay for a couple of hours before she went over to pose. It always made her forget when she became involved in creating, maybe it would help her now.

  Chapter Twelve

  Gabriel was worried.

  It was almost ten-twenty and still no Isabella. He’d been pacing back and forth. Had she done as he suggested? Was she now too afraid to face him and admit she was aroused by the darker side of sex? Maybe what she read made her disgusted. Hell, maybe she thought he was perverted. He stopped pacing.

  Or had something else happened?

  Shit! What if she’s had an accident?

  Gabriel couldn’t help it. He visualised her body in her car, twisted and bloody.

  Going into the house, he picked up his phone and dialled the number Ian had given him for Isabella. No answer. By eleven he was frantic. He’d tried her number several times but there was still no reply. He rang Ian.

  “Ian, can you give me Erica’s number?” he demanded.

  “Erica. Why?”

  “I’m worried about Isabella. She was supposed to come here first thing but she’s not here.”

  “Maybe she forgot.”

  “I’ve tried ringing her, Ian. There’s no answer. I’ve rang about ten times.” His voice cracked with the strain. “I’m hoping she’s rung Erica.”

  He heard Ian ask carefully “Gabe, is there any reason why she might be…well, avoiding you?”

  “I don’t know.” He hesitated. “Not really.” Uncomfortably he continued, “Maybe.”

  He heard Ian’s groan. “What happened this time?”

  “It wasn’t anything bad, Ian, honest.” Then he remembered what had happened. “Well, maybe sort of.”

  “Geez, Gabe. I don’t know what’s got into you with Isabella. I’ve never known you to act this way.”

  “I can’t help it, Ian. She’s…she’s under my skin. She’s all I think about.”

  “Ho ho. The great Gabriel Milford’s finally got caught.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Gabriel, completely puzzled by his friend’s statement.

  “It’s obvious. You’re falling in love mate.”

  Gabriel was stunned. He hadn’t really thought of anything but Isabella since he first saw her but then he realised Ian was definitely right—he’d fallen hard for her.

  “I have to make sure she’s all right.”

  “Better tell me what happened.”

  “Long story. I got the statue. You have to see it. It’s bloody amazing, breathtaking. Anyway, Isabella’s the statue.”

  Ian interrupted confused.

  “The statue?”

  “The Leigh Price one from the auction.”

  “Oh. You mean she modelled for it?”

  “It’s her, yes. There’s a story there but I’ll tell you that when you come over and see the statue. Anyway. We were working and I tried a new pose.”

  Shit, how on earth was he supposed to explain this one?

  “Look, she reacted.”

  “Reacted? You mean she got angry?”

  Embarrassed, he stammered, “Er… no. It kind of got her excited.”

  “Shit. You didn’t fuck her without her consent?”

  Offended, Gabriel retorted, “Hell. No, I don’t force myself on anyone.”

  Ian snorted, “Except Isabella.”

  Chastened, Gabriel replied, “Shit, yes. Well, normally I don’t unless I get some sort of encouragement and we’ve arranged it. Anyway, she freaked out because of the way she’d reacted and the pose. I kind of suggested she research BDSM.”

  Groaning, Ian sounded unsettled as he said, “I’m guessing the pose had something to do with ropes.”

  Ruefully Gabriel added, “And a crop.”

  “How the hell do you get yourself into these things with Isabella, Gabe?” he retorted angrily. “Look, maybe she just doesn’t want to see you again. Maybe she doesn’t like your kinky side. Maybe she ignored your phone call.”

  “But how would she know it was me? I didn’t leave my name and I’ve never rung her before.”

  “Mm, you’ve got a point.” Gabriel could almost hear Ian thinking. “Listen, I think it’s better if I ring Erica in case Isabella has told her she doesn’t want to know you anymore. Erica will talk more freely to me than you.”

  Reluctantly Gabriel had to agree as he realised Ian was right.

  “I suppose so. Just ring me back straight away otherwise I’m going over. I have to know nothing’s happened to her.”

  “Will do. Bye.”

  Gabriel was so close to just driving to Isabella’s but knew if she was purposely avoiding him it would be a major mistake. Still, maybe he could drive as far as her front gate just to make sure there hadn’t been a car accident. He’d made up his mind to do just that and had picked up his car keys when the phone rang again.

  “Spoke to Erica. She hasn’t heard from her since Monday evening. She said she’s probably working and simply forgot.”

  “Do you think so?” Gabriel asked hopefully.

  “Well, I know you do that all the time.”

  Determined, Gabriel said, “I’m going over.”

  “Do you think that’s wise in view of what happened?”

  “What do you mean? Of course it is. I have to know she’s okay.”

  “Well, let me know.”

  “Yep.”

  Gabriel hung up and picked up his wallet. While driving, each time he turned a corner he scanned the road ahead for an accident site. With each corner he felt sicker and sicker. By the time he’d reached Isabella’s he was as nervous as hell but thankfully he hadn’t driven past any car wrecks. He parked the car at the side of the house and walked to the back door. No answer to his knocking. Looking around, he saw the studio door was open so he walked in.

  He almost fell to his knees in relief. Isabella stood at a large island. In front of her was the shape of a bull coming slowly to life. He walked across to her and stood behind, looking over her shoulder. The figure was just over a metre high but already he could see Ferdinand. Looking up, there was a large pin-board covered in photographs of him. So absorbed in working, she hadn’t felt him behind her. He walked round to stand at the side, watching her work. Still no reaction.

  He smiled to himself. She had a large smear of clay across the bridge of her
nose and down one cheek and as he watched she rubbed her chin with the back of her hand, leaving another trail of clay. She glanced up.

  “Oh.”

  He grinned.

  She clapped a hand across her mouth and groaned. “Oh shit. I forgot.”

  He nodded.

  “What time is it?”

  “About eleven forty-five.”

  She groaned. Gabriel loved the way she always reddened. The red blush that heightened her cheeks only enhanced her beauty.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  “It’s okay. I thought something was wrong.” He knew he looked embarrassed as he continued, “I thought you’d had an accident, that’s why I came over. I’ve been ringing but there was no answer.”

  “My phone’s still in the house. I’m really sorry you were worried.”

  “I guess you’re like me. The time vanishes when you get caught up working.”

  She nodded. He noticed that she refused to meet his eyes and had been talking to a point just beyond his right ear.

  “Why did you come out here? I mean, you knew you were coming over to pose.”

  She shrugged and the blush on her cheeks deepened.

  “I woke up early. I was…I came here to…” She actually looked at his face then quickly looked away.

  “Let me guess. You did some research yesterday and you came out here to think.”

  Isabella dropped her head and looked down at the clay in front of her.

  “Maybe,” she mumbled.

  “Isabella, look at me now.” Forcefully he demanded her attention.

  She raised her eyes slowly.

  “Just because you now know enjoying being tied or whipped isn’t some weird perversion doesn’t mean I’m going to grab you and tie you to my bed.” Her mouth formed a perfect O as he continued, “Mind you, I’d love to but I would never force you to do anything.”

  She looked worried.

  “Honestly, Isabella. I won’t. But if you ever decide…well, you know.”

  He smiled down at her and was delighted when she gave a tiny grin back. Maybe it was time to change the subject before his urges overtook his promise.

  “That’s Ferdinand,” he said, pointing to the clay model.