Today they would begin with the barrier he understood best.
As if on cue, the special surprise he planned for his resistant Beauty walked into the studio.
“Guid Mornin’.” Gavrael padded across the floor in his bare feet. He raised a hand to his chin and bent over Julianne’s sex god, wholly unconcerned that his robe had fallen open. Taking his time, he circled the statue. Once and again. Studying each carefully crafted detail.
“Ye canna be serious. This is her first effort at sculpting? Tis incredible,” he remarked as he retied the sash.
Nicolai nodded and muttered, more to himself than to Gavrael, “I find this woman is full of surprises.”
Gavrael crouched next to the face and slanted a playful look at him. “Och, Nico. He looks just like ye.”
“I noticed that.”
Gavrael’s lips curved up. “Except he disna hae a dokey.”
“I noticed that too. That’s why you’re here, bonny boy.”
A burst of laughter. “Are ye tellin’ me that Ah’m the bloody dick model?”
“Yeah. I’m going to make Julianne touch you. Force her to face her fears about what he’s missing. Then I’m going to kick your ass out of my studio while she finishes me, so to speak.”
“Are ye sayin’ ye hinna topped her yet?"
The stunned look that crossed Gavrael’s face left no doubt about the thoughts that crossed his mind. Nicolai’s prowess was legendary, even within the Order, and Gavrael couldn’t believe that he’d spent months with a woman without seducing her into his bed. Hell, he couldn’t believe it himself. Women succumbed to his any and every dominant desire. Always. He shook his head.
The sound of Julianne entering the gallery halted their banter.
“Speak o’ the devil.”
As she descended the stairs, Nicolai stepped forward. Two sets of male eyes watched her as she came down one slow step at a time. As soon as she was within reach, he put out a hand and cupped her elbow to help her down the rest of the way. Her eyes questioned the stranger’s presence, but she didn’t say anything.
Gavrael dropped his robe, completely at ease with his nudity, and moved to the dais next to Julianne’s statue. Positioning himself in the exact pose of her clay man, he raised his eyes to meet hers.
Julianne tried to back away.
Nicolai moved in to coax her forward. “I want you to touch him.” The voice wasn’t commanding, but the hard body behind her certainly would be.
He took her to her knees next to Gavrael. Clasping both wrists, he trapped one against her waist and outstretched the other. Julianne didn’t initiate, but she offered no resistance to what he intended. He held her wrist loosely above Gavrael’s chest, not touching, but close enough to feel the warmth and whispered, “Don’t feel the clay. Feel his skin.”
She lowered her palm.
Nicolai tightened his grip and guided Julianne’s hand up to stroke Gavrael’s hair, then traced the handsome planes of his face with her fingertips. Her living model teased with a playful kiss as they ran over his lips. He moved her fingers over the light stubble of whiskers, lingering on the hard line of Gavrael's jaw, then down the exposed line of his throat to his Adam’s apple. He pressed them against the side of Gavrael’s neck to make Julianne feel the heartbeat pulsing beneath the skin.
At his direction, her hand slid along Gavrael’s breastbone, back and forth across the silky grace of his chest. He circled her fingers around one nipple, then the other, until her resistance at touching Gavrael intimately melted away and she caressed the skin rather than simply feeling it.
Gavrael’s sex reacted and his eyes met hers. The full intensity of his pleasure blazed in their emerald depths. Even with his many other enticing attributes, Gavrael’s eyes were what made him unique and their effect on Julianne was obvious. Her breathing became heavier and Nicolai could feel her whole body soften with the seduction. When he tried to withdraw Julianne's hand, he felt a slight pull.
So, my Beauty is enjoying the feel of a man’s chest.
He indulged her by splaying her hand across Gavrael’s hard pectoral muscle. Julianne leaned over Gavrael and pressed her palm flat. Her fingers flexed until her nails dug into the skin. Gavrael moaned and her body arched with subtle fluidity at the sound. Her subconscious and provocative response rippled through Nicolai and made him as hard as Gavrael. Not wanting to scare her, he eased his erection away from her backside before the sexy exploration resumed.
Nicolai guided her hand away from the smooth swell of Gavrael’s chest, down over the tight ridges of his stomach, and dipped her finger in and out of his navel. Gavrael closed his eyes, his hands clenching into fists, and breathed out on a shuddered sigh. Julianne replied with her own sigh and leaned her head back onto Nicolai’s shoulder.
He squeezed her wrist. “No. Look at him while you touch him.”
Her head snapped up.
Nicolai eased her hand to the side and trailed a path along the vertical ridge of Gavrael’s perfectly defined abdominal muscle, around his hipbone and back again. After several rotations, he brought her hand to rest in the nest of curls above Gavrael’s fully erect penis.
Julianne’s whole body shook when he pried her other arm away from the tight press against her waist and laid her hand over Gavrael’s ankle. He dragged her fingers over the fine hair on Gavrael’s calf until they reached the firm, muscular strength of his thigh. Placing one hand securely on top of hers, Nicolai began to knead the muscle, inching slowly upward. He stopped the erotic massage high on Gavrael’s leg just below his testicles.
For a moment, he held Julianne in that position. One hand rested just above Gavrael’s sex; the other, just below it. The sound of heavy breath surrounded them. He could feel her arousal. Feel how much she wanted to touch Gavrael. How much she wanted to know.
One more small movement would smash this barrier.
“He is yours now. Love him well,” Nicolai invited with a silky voice and began to move her hands together.
Julianne gasped and jerked out of his hold to flee up the stairs.
*****
Lying was a bad idea; lying to a Dom, just plain stupid.
Jacques took a last sip of his soda before joining Jerard and Sarah. He needed a clear head for what he had planned. For the past several weeks, he’d taken Jerard under his wing. Not initially by his own design. After tracking Jerard down at the Dungeon, Nicolai asked him to help keep “the damn troublemaker” away from Julianne. Jacques cozied up to Jerard, and what a shock, Jerard took to him like white on rice. They went to a few private parties, hung out a few times, and surprise, surprise, Jacques really started to care about the guy.
Underneath the hip tough-kid façade, Jerard hid a gentle spirit. He had the same artist’s sensibility that Nicolai and Julianne shared, but having grown up in rougher circumstances, he was more slick. Compassion, intelligence and a few hard knocks combined in him to create a man with true character. He also had a great sense of humor, but that didn’t apply in this situation.
Jerard fashioned himself a Dom, but the more time Jacques spent with him, the more he doubted Jerard’s posturing. Sure, Jerard “dominated” when he was told to, but never on his own. What seemed to get him going was obeying another Dom. To Jacques’s mind, Jerard was clearly a switch, someone who could play top and bottom, but Jerard wouldn’t admit his submissive desires. And that was anything but okay.
No more bopping blindly along.
When Jacques entered the room, Jerard and Sarah were kissing. Sarah sat, naked, atop a wooden table with restraints at each corner. Behind her, a variety of toys hung against a stark stone wall. Medieval ambiance aside, the pair looked like two teenagers necking on a first date. That was so like Jerard. Taking what some may call a perversion and making it appear somehow sweet.
“Do you want to help?” Jerard asked.
“It’s your scene. I thought I was supposed to watch.”
Jerard grinned wide, which Jacques interpreted as a
show of happiness at having permission to enjoy himself. He laid Sarah back and positioned her limbs to cuff each wrist and both ankles to the table, all the while dusting her with kisses. Poetic words fell from Jerard’s lips - the glow of her milky skin against the brown leather, her turquoise eyes, her rose lips – as he rechecked each bind to make sure nothing was too tight. He lifted her head with reverence and fanned out her auburn locks. Just like Nicolai, little details seemed to fascinate Jerard and he stared as he let the tresses flow between his fingers.
Turning to inspect the items hanging on the wall, Jerard removed a flogger from its hook and moved back to Sarah with absolute lust in his gaze. He began to brush the beaded tips over her skin. She undulated her body, obviously aroused by everything he was doing.
“Just think about the lovely shade of pink this will leave on her ivory skin, Jacques.”
Again with the color, Jacques laughed to himself. This guy really was so much like Nicolai, but he'd keep that little observation to himself. Nicolai was hell bent on hating Jerard because Julianne loved him so much. Such a poignant comparison would only piss his pigheaded cousin off.
Truth time. “You know what, man? I hate flogging. It is a huge turn off for me. Would you mind if I turn around so I don’t have to watch this?”
A lie. A big, fat one. Just like the raging erection Jacques hid between crossed legs. But the lie would show whether Jerard was turned on because he was pleasing Jacques or because he enjoyed dominating Sarah despite Jacques.
Jerard couldn’t mask the confusion in his eyes as Jacques turned around.
Silence filled the room.
“Something wrong, Jerard?” Jacques asked without turning.
“No.”
“Then get on with it so I don’t have to stare at this fucking wall all night.”
Then Sarah said, “Please, sir, I want this.”
The nervous voice made Jacques turn. Sarah didn’t understand what was actually happening and he wouldn’t allow her to be upset.
She stared at Jerard with desire burning in her eyes, the expression telling him more clearly than her words what she wanted him to do, but Jerard didn't move. Jacques saw the emotions playing with his psyche. He felt sorry for the guy, but getting to the truth would do more good than coddling him. Flogging a willing sub obviously turned him on. After all, it was his choice.
“You really don’t like this?” Jerard raised the flogger.
“Nope, but this is about what you like. You’re the Dom, right?”
“Yeah,” Jerard said in a flat voice.
“Then do it. It’s what you want. It’s what Sarah wants. Shit, man, it’s what she needs. It’s your responsibility as her Dom to give it to her. If you really are what you say, you wouldn’t give a damn about my reaction. You would give your beautiful submissive what you both need. So tell me again, are you the Dom?”
“I am.” The voice was unsure.
“I can’t hear you.”
“I am.” Jerard started to shake.
“Then do it, damn it. She’s begging you for it. Do it!”
Eyes locked on Jacques, Jerard raised the handle between trembling fingers.
Jacques turned.
Thump! The toy hit the floor.
“I can’t.”
Instantly, Jacques was in Jerard’s face. “Why not?”
“I don’t know.”
“Yes, you do. Tell me why you can’t do it.”
Jerard looked away without answering.
“Do you know what I think, Jerard? I think you’re not the Dom here. I think you’re doing this to please someone other than yourself. I can tolerate a lot of shit, but I will not tolerate a liar. The only reason I’m still in this room with you is because I don’t think you’re lying to me. I think you’re lying to yourself.”
Jerard’s eyes shot back to Jacques and he snapped, “No, I have to be this. I can’t be anything else. This is what she needs.”
“What who needs, Sarah or Julianne?” Jacques backed him into a corner and Jerard was furious. He pushed harder. “What? You think I don’t know how you feel about Julianne? You think you can’t have her love if you don’t become something she needs. Forget her. I swear to God, I will make sure you never see her again if you keep lying to yourself. Be honest, Jerard. Not for Julianne, for yourself.”
“I don’t understand what you want from me, Jacques.” Jerard’s eyes begged for relief from the pressure.
“If I wasn’t turned off, the idea of flogging Sarah turns you on?”
Jerard nodded.
“Then who are you trying to please here, your sub or your Master?”
Jerard turned and hid his face against an arm pressed to the wall. “I can’t do it. I don’t understand why not,” he practically wailed, “What’s happening to me, Jacques?”
Jacques circled the table and released Sarah. She seemed to understand what was happening and quickly got up, kissed him on the cheek and slipped away.
Jacques whispered in Jerard’s ear. “Guess what? I lied.”
Jerard looked at him as if he’d been slapped, then started away, completely closed off. Jacques grabbed Jerard’s hair and jerked his head back so Jerard was forced to look him in the eye. He leaned over and picked up the discarded flogger.
“Strip. I want you naked.”
“Please don’t do this, Jacques.”
Jacques only stared with impatience. Jerard began to undress.
“Kneel.”
Jerard dropped to his knees.
Jacques raised the leather high and brought it down over Jerard’s back in a swift, hard stoke. Again and again, until angry red marks covered the skin.
Jerard moaned louder with each strike and Jacques couldn’t miss his jutting erection. He fell forward onto all fours, his fingers clawing at the concrete floor as Jacques tormented his back with more heavy blows.
“Touch yourself, Jerard. Surrender to the pleasure I’m offering you.”
Jerard’s hands immediately circled his engorged penis. As Jacques whipped him, Jerard began to pump into his own grip. He screamed as hot jets spurted onto his abs.
“Are you the Dom now, Jerard?
“No.” Jerard looked horrified by the sticky release coating his skin. Speaking more to himself then to Jacques, he muttered, “I wanted to do it, but when you turned around, I couldn’t raise my arm. If Sarah pointed a gun at my head and told me to do it or die, I might actually choose to die.” His reaction clearly baffled him and he began to cry.
Jacques intended to show Jerard the truth of himself and stop right there, but he pushed too far and broke Jerard. He dropped the flogger and knelt down on the floor, pulling Jerard into the safety of his embrace. Jerard instinctively turned to huddle against him.
Stroking the reddened skin with a loving touch, Jacques rocked Jerard and said, “It’s called submission, my pet.” Emotions that he didn’t expect, or particularly want, swirled through him as he held the trembling man in his arms. “There is no shame in being who you are, Jerard. Shame comes when you try to pretend to be something you’re not.”
Jerard’s hands came to his face and he stared in wonderment. Acceptance filled his eyes. Jacques didn’t pull away when Jerard leaned forward to kiss him. Instead, he took his lips. There was no tenderness in the way he did it. He kissed Jerard hard, taking the last of what was held back with dominating force, surrendering himself to his own awakening desire for this complicated, tender young man.
*****
Air. I need air.
Julianne was too flustered to even bother with the handles and hit the glass door with both palms to shove her way out of the gallery. When she felt the rush of cool night air, she sucked a hard breath. Her skin crawled with a vicious, unfulfilled need. She was barely conscious of where she was going as she raced along the sidewalk, but she was painfully aware of Nicolai following at her heels.
She already teetered on the razor’s edge of sanity. If she touched that man under Nicolai’s
control, she would have gone tumbling over the edge. God help her, she wanted to touch him. Wanted to touch Nicolai. Not just touch him. Devour him. She wanted to rip open that tailored shirt and run her cheek against his chest, bury her nose in the hollow of his neck and twine herself around him like a vine. But she had to stop herself.
She had to stop this.
What had begun as an innocent infatuation with an older man had grown into a full-blown addiction. Nicolai consumed her thoughts, consumed her fantasies, threatened to consume her and that simply could not happen.
All she could think to do was run. And he let her. All the way home, but stopped her right outside of the lights at the gate with a firm grip on the shoulder.
“Julianne, has something upset you?”
“No.” An obvious lie.
“Then why have we run all the way here in silence?” His lips curved into a teasing grin. “Did seeing a naked man shock you?”
Too quickly, she shot him a defiant, “Of course not.”
“So you have seen a man naked before?” he said, the amusement in his voice clear and mortifying.
“Of course,” she lied again. “There are plenty of men at school.”
“Mere boys,” he said dismissively, but his voice lost its earlier note of humor.
“You are not the only man in my life, Nicolai,” she challenged.
“And you have seen all of the others naked, I suppose?” He was mocking her again.
The truth of the jibe added insult to injury and she snapped, “Don’t underestimate me, Nicolai. I'm not as innocent as everyone thinks I am.” She turned her back to him in a hard motion.
He grabbed her shoulders and whipped her around so fast she would have toppled if he didn't have her arms in an iron grip. Shaking her hard, he forced her to look into his face. His eyes flashed with some emotion, like anger, but he spoke in a level tone.
“What are you telling me, Julianne? That I shouldn't adore your innocence? That I shouldn't worship you for it? You would rather I treat you like a common whore, throw you to the ground and fuck you in the dirt?”
Masterpiece (The Masters of The Order Book 1) Page 12
