by Fawkes, Sara
and lower that made me bite down on my bottom lip to stop from moaning just a little from the groin
punch of desire.
“Yes, like my subjects.”
He spun me once more, then dipped me a little, and when the music stopped we were face to face.
Well, I had to tilt my head up even though I was wearing two and half inch heels.
“Ah, thank you for the dance.”
As if remembering himself, he lowered my hand, took a step back, and gave a little bow. “It was
my pleasure.”
There was so much I wanted to ask him. About his work, about his home. And who was the woman
in his most famous painting? Was she a lover? His wife? A fantasy? I wanted to know. I needed to
know. But nothing came out of my mouth and he walked away.
The second he was out of view, Paige pounced on me. “Oh my God. That was him wasn’t it?”
“Yes, that was him.”
“Em, he’s gorgeous. And rich. And talented.” She punched me in the arm. “What the hell are you
still standing here for? You need to go get some of that.”
I looked at her. “What are you talking about?”
“He really seemed into you.”
“So?”
“So, go get him. Have a fling. It will be something you will remember for the rest of your life. The
night you had sex with the most famous painter of this age.”
“You make it sound like I want to sleep with him.”
“Don’t you?” she teased. “I mean you’re flushed for a reason, chica.”
“It’s just hot in here.” I fanned my face. “I’m going out to get some air.”
I excused myself through the crowd of people and stepped out into the courtyard. It was a gorgeous
evening. Warm but not humid. So the fact I didn’t have a jacket wasn’t a worry. I took a few steps
away from the goings on at the main entrance and lifted my head and breathed in deep. The air
smelled of nature. Green grass, leaves and flowers. I thought I could scent lilies nearby.
I turned and saw a whole garden of them alongside the corner of the estate. There was no
significant light over there, but I had an urge to run my fingers over their petals. Lilies had always
been my favorite flower. So I took a few more steps into the darkness to fulfill that urge.
Before I could reach out and touch the delicate petal of one huge white lily, a majestic looking
animal crept around the corner and stared at me. It looked like a dog, but it was all black and its eyes
glowed from the light at the entrance. Was it a wolf? Fear filled me, but not enough to move. Or it
might’ve been the fear gluing me to the spot.
Slowly I glanced over my shoulder to see if the doormen had spotted me and the animal. Maybe I
could signal them to help me without making a sound. But the doormen weren’t there. In fact, the
entire courtyard area in front of the entrance had been deserted. There were no waiting cars to drop off
guests or pick them up. I was completely alone out here.
I looked back at the animal. It wasn’t growling or making any menacing movement, it was just
gazing at me curiously. Maybe it was Xavier’s pet. Maybe it wasn’t going to tear my throat out and
then eat my entrails.
“Ah, nice puppy. Please don’t eat me.”
It bent its head and huffed. Then took a few steps backward.
“So you are a nice puppy, then?”
It huffed again, then looking toward the side of the estate, took a few steps in that direction. It
looked like it wanted me to follow it. Which was all kinds of weird.
But what was even more weird, is that I was going to.
I walked toward the beast, and it turned and trotted into the darkness around the corner of the
estate. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I was out here alone, Paige didn’t know where I’d gone to,
and it was dark and I was following some strange animal into the unknown. Paige had always told me
to take more risks, but this was bordering on insane.
Once I turned the corner, I lost sight of the animal. Which wasn’t hard to do considering it was
nearly pitch black outside save for the swath of moonlight that seemed to cut the dark.
“Puppy? Where did you go?” I whispered into the abyss.
A sudden breeze blew up around me, swirling my hair and the hem of my dress about. It wasn’t a
cold wind but warm. It seemed to caress me as it brushed against my skin. I shivered and turned in a
circle trying to determine where it was coming from. Then as quick as it had erupted, it stopped dead.
“Okay,” I said aloud, “That’s my cue to leave.”
“Where are you going?” I turned around just as Xavier, still masked, stepped into the pool of
moonlight.
“Well, I was going to go back inside instead of skulking around here in the dark all by myself. I
doesn’t really seem all that safe.”
He took a step closer. “Do you feel safe now?”
My heart hammered in my throat. I put a shaking hand up to my chest. “Not really no.”
“Why are you here, Emily?”
“Because you invited us to your party.”
“That’s not what I asked you.” He took another step toward me.
God, I couldn’t stop shaking, but I also couldn’t force my legs to move. And truth be told, despite
the fear swirling around in my gut, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to be here with him.
“Why are you here?”
“To meet you,” I blurted out in a hurried rush. “I wanted to meet you. To talk to you about your
work.”
“You are an artist, I assume.”
I nodded. “Yes. A painter.”
“And you want to know who my subjects are. And how I paint them. From my memory of
unbridled passion or from watching them orgasm right in front of me.”
He was a stone throw away from me. I could reach out and touch him if I so desired. And I did
desire. His words teased and taunted me. They forced me to picture Xavier and other women having
sex. My heart skipped a few beats in my chest as my belly clenched hard. My thighs ached and I had
the violent urge to spread them to ease my discomfort.
“Yes,” I finally managed to squeak through my heavy breathing.
“I’m working on a new painting. Would you like to see it?”
I nodded, unable to speak. This was a dream come true.
He put out his hand and I took it without hesitation. He led me to a back entrance to the castle.
Back in the day, I supposed, it would’ve been the servants’ entrance. Then we walked up a spiraling
set of stone steps to the third floor in silence. He would look at me every once in a while and I would
smile back. I wondered if he could hear my heart hammering in my chest.
As he led me down a long corridor, I marveled at the décor. There wasn’t much in the way of
modern touches. It looked like I imagined it would’ve over a hundred years ago. The only giveaway
that we were in the 21st century was the electric lamps mounted on the walls. Everything else, the
carpet running along the stone floor, the tapestries and paintings displayed, the little tables, and chairs
set here and there along the wide hallway, all appeared to be circa late 1800’s.
Xavier stopped in front of an ornate wooden door and opened it. He stood to the side and gestured
for me to enter. I did. Even with shaky legs, I managed to step over the threshold and into the large
airy room. But what I saw stole my breath and I had to reach out for something to hold onto
. The
nearest thing was Xavier himself.
Once I realized that I had grabbed his arm, I blushed and pulled away. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” He smiled, then stripped off his gloves. I spied specks of red paint on his
fingers.
I looked around the room, taking it all in. I couldn’t believe I was standing in the studio of one of
the greatest painters to ever live. There were fully painted and half painted canvases all over the place.
Some were propped up on easels, others rested against the walls. My fingers itched to touch them.
“Let me take your cape.”
I undid the clasp and handed him the cape. He folded it and set it down on a chair.
I couldn’t stop from gaping at him and at the room, and at all the wonderful work before me.
Maybe Xavier sensed my excitement, because he gestured to them. “Go look if you wish.”
I stepped up to a half-finished painting on an easel. It was an explosion of color. Reds and blues
and greens and golds. At first I didn’t see what it was, then slowly out of the color I could see an
image. A woman in the water. Naked and covered in seaweed with different fish nibbling at her toes
and fingers. It was quite stunning.
As I wandered the room looking at his other work, he watched me. Slowly he unbuttoned his jacket
and slid it off. He folded it and set it down on the chair next to my cape. Then he took off his mask.
And the beauty of him nearly knocked me on my ass.
I stumbled a little, and my hip connected with another one of the easels. It tipped over, and the
canvas on it fell to the floor.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry.” I reached for the painting to right it, but he was there in an instant,
picking it up for me.
“It’s all right. No harm done.” He righted the easel and set the canvas onto it, facing us and I could
see what had been painted on it.
There was a lot of red and black. Splotches of color, streaks of it in a madness of hue and shape in
a circular pattern. But the middle was blank. It was devoid of anything. It was as if it was waiting for
something to be placed right inside. Like a puzzle missing its most vital piece. Some of the spots still
looked tacky. The paint hadn’t dried yet.
“Were you working on this today?”
He nodded, and traced a finger over the empty spot on the canvas. “Yes. But it was missing
something. I knew I wouldn’t find it until later.” He turned to look at me, his gaze piercing me. “Until
now.”
I stared wide-eyed at him and literally gulped. “You mean me? You want to paint me?”
“Yes, if that would be favorable to you.”
“Favorable?” my head was spinning. “I think I need to sit down.”
Xavier dragged the chair over to me, and helped me settle into it. “Are you all right?”
I nodded, and rubbed my mouth with the back of my hand. “I’m just...just overwhelmed right
now. I mean, you are Xavier, and I’m, well, I’m just Emily Brooks, a nobody from Canada.”
“Emily, you are an exquisite woman and I would be honored to paint you.”
I looked up at him. I couldn’t believe I was here, in his presence let alone being asked to be a piece
of his art. That was really what I wanted wasn’t it? When I’d looked at his previous paintings, I’d
been wishing to be one of those women. To be in that much bliss. With him.
Paige’s voice echoed in my head.
Take a risk, Em. Live.
“Yes, you may paint me,” I finally said after catching my breath.
Chapter Three
I didn’t know what to expect when Xavier yanked off the cover on the settee in the corner and told me
sit. He brought the easel over nearby, and set up a stool in front of the canvas. He pulled over his paint
table and then looked at me.
I was perched on the edge of the sofa, unsure of what exactly he wanted me to do. Was he going to
seduce me? Did I want him to?
Yes.
“Relax. You are too tense.”
Nodding, I scooted back onto the seat. “Should I take my mask off?”
“No. I like it on.” His lips turned up into a small smile as he arranged his paints and palette.
Nerves sizzled through me. My heart pounded so hard I found it hard to breathe, and I couldn’t
stop fidgeting with the lace on my dress. I didn’t know what to do. I’d never been any good at being
sexy or even flirty. When I saw a guy I liked, he always had to make the first move. I’d never been
brave enough to do it. I’d always had the lid closed tight on my sexuality.
Xavier came over to me and I noticed that he was sans bow tie and the top three buttons on his
shirt were undone. I couldn’t stop staring at the smooth pale skin peeking through the gap of fabric.
“May I pose you?”
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
He took my right arm and draped it over the edge of the sofa. “Can you lean a little?”
I did what he asked. Then he crouched at my feet, clasping a hand around each ankle. I think I
may have gasped at the electricity that shot up my legs from his touch.
He raised one leg and set it up on the cushion, the other he slid a little the other way. The result
was me basically spread eagle across the sofa. Thankfully the fullness of my dress kept me covered.
But underneath all that fabric I was burning up. The insides of my thighs were throbbing. It wouldn’t
be long before that sensation worked its way to the center of my spread legs.
He stood and regarded me. “Are you comfortable?”
“Yes.”
Smiling, he moved back to his stool and his paints. He picked up his palette, and started to mix
paints with his brush. I watched him move the brush, his strokes quick but thoughtful. He was a master
and I was humbled before him.
“I want you to close your eyes, Emily. I want you to think about something that you want.
Something that you’ve always wanted. Something you would do anything for. I want you to picture it
in your mind.”
I felt a tad foolish, but I did as he asked. I closed my eyes and thought of the one thing I wanted
the most. At first everything was black behind my lids, but then an image formed. It came quickly,
and it was bright and bold and as vivid as reality.
I saw Xavier and he was naked. His back was to me but his body was perfect. Trim but muscular,
his skin as smooth and pale as marble. His hips were moving. His hands gripped a women’s backside.
And he was fucking her hard and fast. I could hear the woman’s moans and mewls of pleasure echoing
in my ears. Then she turned her face to look back at him, and I saw it was me. I was on my knees with
Xavier ramming hard into me.
“Oh,” I gasped as I opened my eyes.
“Yes!” Xavier called out as his brush moved expertly across the canvas. “Give me that look
again.”
I closed my eyes again to capture that same image, but instead I pictured him in between my
spread legs licking his way to my aching wet sex. He was looking up at me, a devilish grin on his face.
A moan escaped my lips before I could stop it, and I opened my eyes again. Although the image
had disappeared, I could still feel him beneath my dress. I squirmed on the sofa, bucking my hips a
little, opening my legs even more. Xavier never stopped painting even as I moved around.
Now the images came fast and furious, and I never had to close my eyes. I kept getting flashes
of
Xavier doing exquisitely naughty things to me. And I could feel him as if his hands and mouth and
tongue were actually on and in me.
My body was on fire. Every muscle quivered in need. I’d never felt this wanton, this decadent
before. Gone was my embarrassment. I was beyond rational thought to even care who was watching,
who was listening. All I wanted was release.
I lowered my arms and started to gather the skirt of my dress. I risked a glance at Xavier, thinking
he may shout at me for moving, but he didn’t make a sound. He just continued to paint. He’d look at
me, then paint, look at me, then paint some more. In fact, he was painting faster than I’d ever seen
someone do before. So, I continued to pull up my skirt until it was around my waist and I had access
to the aching throb between my legs.
I dragged my hand over the bunched fabric to the juncture of my thighs, pulling aside my panties
and dipping my fingers into the softness there. I was hot and wet and I drew my fingers up and down
my slit, reveling in the silky feel on my skin.
Moaning, I slid two fingers inside, imagining it was Xavier’s cock filling me up. At first my
strokes were slow and easy, lazy even, but I soon ramped up in rhythm, my body quivering for more.
Panting now, I slid my other hand over to rub at my clit, circling it faster and faster until I lost control.
All rational thought fell away as I spread my legs as far as they could go and worked on myself. In all
my years, I’d never masturbated like this. Never this fast. Never this hard.
All propriety left me as I bumped and ground against my hand. Loud cries of pleasure escaped my
lips, but I was past the point of caring who heard. I was so lost in my own abandon, I didn’t notice that
Xavier was standing over me, watching, licking his lips, his eyes dark and hungry.
Within seconds of spying him, my thighs tightened. A deep heat built in my belly and started to
flow outwards. I buried three fingers inside, pumping hard, to finish me off. I was so close I couldn’t
stop even if the world around me exploded. Kicking out my legs and throwing back my head, I came
hard, groaning loudly as I did.
When the spasms in my body subsided, I opened my eyes and looked at Xavier. He looked more
dark and dangerous than before. His body was shaking, his breathing labored. I could plainly see the
