Masterpiece (The Masters of The Order Book 1) (21 page)

He moved to kneel on the bed and settled onto his heels between her legs. Taking her ankles in his hands, he draped her legs over his thighs, opening her once again to his gaze. Julianne arched her back, completely unashamed of her nakedness, revealing no desire to shield herself from his eyes. Her rich scent reached him in fresh waves.

“Such a vibrant shade of pink. My new favorite color.”

“I am yours to enjoy, Nicolai,” she replied.

Julianne didn’t say much, but when she did…
fuck if it isn’t the sexiest damn thing to hear her repeat my words back to me
.

He reached over her head and guided her hand down, over the wet, waiting lips to her fatly flushed clitoris. “Touch yourself, Beauty mine. This time when you come for me, I will watch,” he growled, fighting the compelling urge to mount her.

As soon as she did, her body arched sharply off the mattress, straining for more. Frantic fingers rolled around her clit, pressing and rotating in just the right mixture to send her over the edge quickly. Julianne was a truly passionate creature. Demure, but definitely not shy. He adored the uninhibited desperation.

Adored her.

It only took a few seconds before her heels pressed into his thighs and the first sharp bursts of orgasm hit her. She squeezed her eyes tight and cried out his name as she came.

Even through the sexual flush on her skin, he could see her blush with embarrassment at her voracious jaunt to pleasure. She began to withdraw her hand, but he moved to hold it there. He wanted her proud to display herself so freely, not to doubt.

He poured approval into his voice. “
Parfaite
, Beauty mine. Now come for me again. Slower this time.”

He set the pace for her next climb to the pinnacle. Showing her the trail he wanted her to follow, he guided her finger over her folds and rimmed her entrance, before dipping and withdrawing to spread the thick wetness over her inflamed flesh.

She followed his lead beautifully. Firm, but slower, she touched herself thoroughly. Her soft cries became louder as she continued to push toward another orgasm, but she kept the pace he’d set for her.

He watched her let go, forget everything but the sensation, and every detail indelibly seared into his imagination. Outrageously beautiful hair spilling around her. Curved lashes falling against flushed, glowing skin. Lithe fingers dancing over luscious femininity. A flawless body flowing with the rhythm of carnal pleasure. Julianne was breathtaking, more than even a creative mind like his could contemplate.

A true masterpiece.

He suddenly had to touch her. Take her. Make sure she was real. One finger chased hers over its sensual trail, then plunged deep, so deep, into the essence of her femininity.

“So tight, Beauty mine,” he grit out through clenched teeth. “I want to live inside of you. Tell me you want me here.”

The sound she made in reply was incoherent, an explosion of breath and jumbled syllables. Her legs stiffened and her entire body bowed before his ingénue gasped and fell apart.

No mistaking that answer.

He felt her tense and shudder, holding himself inside while she shook. The erotic jerking of her body almost triggered his own climax. When she stilled, the last barrier between them pressed against his fingertip and he couldn’t resist any longer.

Every instinct wanted to take her hard and fast, but he held back. Both hands slipped around the contours of her hips and lifted her body. The tip of his erection slid into place between those silken thighs and pushed into her slick heat.

Fingernails dug into his thighs as the first sting of pain lanced through her. The little pinch and the tight clasp of her virgin body had him seeing double. Julianne bowed her spine as he held her up, inviting him to sink deeper into her mysterious depths.

“Nicolai...”

The sound of his name on her lips poured over him. He focused on her eyes and thrust his entire length into her willing flesh with one powerful stroke. She sucked in a wild gasp of pain and exhaled on a shuddering sigh.

“...I love you.”

It is done.

His head fell into the fragrant hollow of her neck as he seated himself fully inside. Her warmth surrounded him like a promise, soft velvet proof that Julianne was his. There wasn’t an inch of her body not covered by his, yet he was completely within her power. He hovered over his muse for a moment and silently promised to do anything to be worthy of her love.

When he began to move, each slide was tender, measured. He stroked in and out with infinite patience, giving himself over to the gentle rhythm of their joining. He was unprepared for the way this lovemaking would transform him. With each caress, his muse tore him to pieces, until emotion, unlike any he could have conceived of before, pieced him back together as a new man.

Her man.

Making love to Julianne for the first time felt like a sacred experience. He felt reborn. Climax took him with her name on his lips and her body shuddered around him as she found her own release.

When he opened his eyes, his salvation looked up at him with wonder suffusing her face as if he’d given her a gift instead of the other way around.

His voice trembled as he surrendered his heart for the first time. “I love you, Beauty mine. With all that I am, I will love you forever.”

*****

Son of a bitch. I hate that guy. With his talent and his gallery and his fucking Bentley.

Jerard’s brush swirled furiously over the canvas as thoughts of Julianne filled his mind. He didn’t choose her. He chose Darion LeClair. He made his Faustian pact with the devil and now, he would live with the consequences.

Julianne was lost to him.

She gave herself to another and he didn’t stand in her way. The pain of that loss consumed him. The finality of it really hurt. He should be happy for her. Happy that she found someone to love, but his mind was black with jealousy. All he could do was continue on, pouring his pain over the canvas. Alone with his art. The mistress he had chosen.

Hours later, Jerard’s forehead pressed against the closed door. His head ached almost as much as his heart. He was so tired. His eyes burned. Every muscle was sore. He wasn’t sure why he went there. Their last encounter was a freakish whim he’d sworn never to indulge again. Yet he’d driven through the Paris streets, unconscious of his destination until the moment he found himself on Jacques’s doorstep.

The door opened on the second knock. “I hoped you would turn to me, pet. I know it’s been a tough day for you.” Jacques paused, his nonchalance fading as he read the heavy emotions Jerard made no attempt to hide.

He was lonely, so heart-wrenchingly lonely, and so afraid. Afraid of what brought him to this door, afraid to walk through it, afraid to accept what someone like Jacques could offer even as he silently begged him to make that offer.

Jacques’s arms opened. “Come. Let me take away all that loneliness.”

Jerard threw himself into the embrace, so good, so strong, so comforting, and allowed himself something he never had. He let himself be vulnerable. He’d finally found the person who made him feel safe enough to be himself. The person he could trust to hold him up when he was weak and stand with him when he was strong.

This was what he’d been searching for.

This was why he came here in the midst of his pain.

He went willingly as Jacques drew him into the apartment and closed the door.

He’d finally found a home.

15

A Delicate Balance

Julianne woke before dawn in a tangle of limbs.

Nicolai wrapped around every part of her as if he couldn’t get enough of her even in sleep.

So my big bad wolf likes to cuddle.

She snuggled in tighter.

In the hushed calm of the new day, she listened to the morning sounds of her new home. The gentle hum from the avenue below, the tick of the clock on the wall and her lover’s soft breath created a soothing melody that would greet her every day when she woke. She inhaled the morning air that hung heavy and thick around them. The delectable fragrance of cologne, shampoo and sex lingered, undisturbed in the stillness. She savored each small detail knowing they would gradually fade from consciousness as life with Nicolai progressed.

Easing back to look at her sleeping lover, she sighed. One thing would never fade. If she woke one thousand mornings like this, the sight of that beautiful man lying next to her would never become commonplace.

In the quiet, she relived the most mind-blowing, toe-curling, shake-all-over day of her life. Her seduction had been artful. It began the moment she saw Nicolai standing on the sidewalk.
Give yourself to me and I will protect you
. It intensified during their infuriatingly slow meal.
Patience, my little hellion, I am in control
. It spiked when they got home.
I will own you, but you are safe and precious to me
. It was sublime when they made love.
Let me take you where we have both waited so long to go
.

And her first experience with sex?
Parfaite
. Despite appearing calm on the outside, a well-honed trick, inside she’d been shaking like a leaf. Nicolai must have known because he was so gentle and patient with her. They made love three times before he tucked her exhausted body next to his for sleep. Despite her wild fantasies, it was all she could handle.

But there would be more.
How you will submit to me, I leave to your imagination
. Through it all, the dark lover watched, his eyes coolly assessing her.
I’m a dangerous man, Beauty, in ways you cannot understand
. He was the epitome of control and she felt the strain as he chained his power.
Do you have any idea what I want to do to this body?
No, but she trusted him.
Do you have any idea what I will do?
Anything he asked.

In time, I will meet my Master again. In time, I will feel the intensity he showed me in the studio.

As much as she wanted to remain by Nicolai’s side until he woke up, the memory of her boudoir lured her away. She gingerly uncoiled his arms and slid out from under his legs. Her body ached in all of the right places as she rolled from beneath the duvet careful not to wake him.

Alone in the boudoir, she perused the wall of shoes. “
Bonjour
,
mes bébés
.” Purple suede Mary Jane pumps slipped onto her feet.

Pure heaven.

She twirled around in front of the mirror, admiring herself.
Not a little girl anymore, are you?
With a giddy hop, she plopped onto the ottoman and twisted her ankle, this way and that, savoring the sexy shoes from every angle.
I am the luckiest woman in the world
.

She didn’t notice when Nicolai entered the room.

“No work of art can compare to your magnificence,” he said in a gravelly morning voice.

Nicolai looked gorgeous standing over her with bedroom eyes and mussed hair. So much younger and sweeter, but still undeniably sexy.

“Not as magnificent as the two of us together.” She grinned up at him. “Wanna make a bit of erotic art in front of this mirror, gorgeous?”

Pretending to be offended, he tsked, “Such dirty talk from my newly deflowered virgin.”

“Oh, no,” she gasped. “Are you going to punish me?” She infused sex into each word and pulled her knees to her chest, exposing her backside to him and giggling like mad.

“I aim to please, Beauty, in every conceivable way.” He swatted her bottom and she couldn’t contain the huge smile on her face.

Without a doubt, the luckiest woman in the world.

“It’s a sacrilege to cover that body. But sadly, sometimes clothing is necessary.”

“Why? Where are we going?” She didn’t want to get dressed and gave him her best pout.

“My God, you are a naughty one, aren’t you?” Nicolai cleared his throat to hide the lust in his voice and continued, “First, you have to meet the staff. You know Brent, but I want to introduce you to Thomas, my butler, and Madame Reid, the housekeeper and cook. Then we have an appointment with a client and after that, maybe we’ll go shopping. You need something to wear to my opening next Friday.”

“Don’t you think you’ve spoiled me enough already, Nicolai?” She swung her hand around the boudoir to point out the hundreds of things he'd already purchased for her.

“Oh, no,” he said around a laugh and shook his head, “I’ve yet to begin spoiling you, Beauty mine.”

“Who is your client?” she asked trying to distract herself from the naughty thoughts filling her head.

“It’s not my client. It’s yours. The man who purchased your sculpture was so impressed that he asked to meet the artist. If we’re lucky, maybe he’ll commission another piece.”

She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You actually sold it for money? But, I’m not...”

“You are.” He cut her off. “Your apprenticeship is over. Which reminds me, I want to employ you at the gallery. How does 100,000€ as a starting salary sound?”

“You want to pay me?” Now she really couldn’t believe it.

“Of course. I wouldn’t want to lose you to the competition.” He winked at her. “Do you accept?”

She blinked at him.

“110,000€.”

“I don’t know...”

“120,000€.”

“Yes, enough.” She stopped him before he could raise his offer again. “I was just going to say that I don’t know what to say. I would be honored. Thank you.”

“Excellent. 120,000€ it is. You drive a hard bargain,
Mademoiselle
Giroux. Next time I negotiate with a woman, remind me to make sure she’s wearing clothes. Now let’s get you dressed before I fall on you.”

He flipped through the hangers of dresses next to her as if looking for one in particular.

“Today, you will wear this for me. It matches your shoes.”

He held out an ultra-feminine lavender sundress with a tight bodice and swirly skirt made from several billowing layers. The dress looked like it could be worn by a little girl and that rankled her insecurities. Then he turned the dress around to reveal an open, lace-up back with crisscrossing ties and said with a lascivious grin, “I couldn’t resist the corset on this one. It reminds me of you.”

Oh là là! Definitely not a dress meant for a little girl.

“But first, I was a good boy last night. The vision of you lying over that ottoman naked in stilettos is burning my eyes. I think I should return the favor.”

His voice dropped to a more seductive tone as he removed a thin rope from the top of the hanger. It looked like an extra tie for the back of the dress. “Have you heard the term ‘
matanawa
’ before?” With a salacious gleam in his eye, he explained, “It’s a crotch rope.”

Hooowl! The sweet sleepyhead vanished.
Good morning, my big bad wolf
.

Before she could speak, Nicolai reached for her hand and pulled her to her feet. She stood, eyes huge, and watched him double the cord before wrapping it around the small of her waist and threaded the ends through the loop to secure it. He brought the rope between her legs and pulled it up hard between her buttocks.

“
Ahh
.” She jerked as the cord cut into her skin. It hurt and she liked it. From the look in Nicolai’s eyes, so did he. He held tight and kissed her. A smoldering Nicolai kiss that burned to the core. Then he loosened the tension a bit and secured the end at her back to the length around her waist.

“This will be our little secret today, Beauty mine” he whispered, tugging the rope again. “If you’re a good girl and wear it without complaining, tonight I’ll kiss it and make it all better.”

The sexy sound of his voice delivering that decadent promise made her shiver. When she moved, the thin cord chafed her folds making her hyperaware of her femininity and its aching emptiness. A vicious, itchy need to feel Nicolai inside taunted her.

But that was the point, wasn’t it?

She grinned at him.
I knew you were in there
.

*****

Perfection
.

Tied against the leather padding on the wall. Thick cuffs extended her limbs. Skin, reddened with the marks of dark play, glistened under the spotlight streaming over her sweat-soaked body. And her divine sex pulsed beneath his tongue, swollen and creamy, as he suckled her arousal until she came against his lips. Licking up her body, he added the taste of her sweat to the ambrosia already coating his mouth.

Delicious.

“Thank me,” he commanded.

She immediately obeyed, “Thank you, Master.”

“Now tell me you love me.”

She raised emotionless eyes and with a bitter smile, crooned in a practiced voice, “No, Master. I hate you. With all that I am, I will always hate you.”

Nicolai shot out of sleep and found himself covered in a cold sweat. As always, he couldn’t remember the nightmare, only feel its chilling effect.

A heavy arm swept over the duvet seeking the comfort of Julianne. He rolled over, anxious, and reached across the other side of the bed.
I’m alone. It took months to get Julianne here and I’m alone?
He leaned up on his elbows and scanned the room. It was still dark. Sitting up, he scrubbed hands over his face and looked at the clock.
5:45 a.m. What the...?

Next to the clock on the bed table, he saw the note.

All better, thank you. You certainly know how to give a girl a proper goodnight kiss. I just couldn’t wait and didn’t want to wake you. I went to the gallery. P.S. You look very sexy when you’re asleep. XOXO B

The sweet words should have made him smile, but he was furious. Julianne went out in the middle of the night.
Alone!

He hit the intercom button next to the bed and snapped, “Thomas.”

Brent answered before he lowered his arm and spoke quickly. “
Bonjour
,
monsieur
. I took
mademoiselle
to the gallery. Thomas stayed there with her. How may I assist you?”

Nicolai yanked back the duvet and shot to his feet. “I’ll be downstairs in five minutes.”

The key slipped into the lock on the gallery door.
Thank God, Thomas had the good sense to lock it.

Thomas stepped out of the office as Nicolai entered. He looked exhausted. “
Bonjour
,
monsieur
.”

Nicolai gave a curt nod. “Where is Julianne?”

“Downstairs.”

He didn’t even stop to thank Thomas as he hurried toward the steps. Panic had him in a vice grip. Which was stupid. He knew it was stupid. His logical mind knew that Julianne was fine. Brent had driven her here, the door was locked and Thomas hadn’t left her alone. But until he saw her with his own eyes, urgency corroded his gut.

He knew he was possessive. Hello, he was a Dom. But his behavior was crazy. Julianne accepted his need to know her whereabouts, even before they were lovers, but he was acting like a damn stalker. Maybe it was the fact that they were lover.

Or maybe it’s the fact that you're not worthy of her and it's only a matter of time before you fuck up.

Sketches were strewn all over the floor of the studio. Julianne stood with her back to him, her paintbrush flying over a very large canvas in a wild frenzy. The image she created was abstract, but the emerging passion in it was clear to his eye. She must have been working for a while to have made so much progress.

He was relieved that she picked up the brush again, having not done so for quite some time. He didn’t realize his words about her painting would have such a chilling impact on her. He only intended to give her an alternative, not to undermine her confidence. She was a multi-talented artist, but painting was her strongest skill. When he asked why she wasn’t painting, she uttered something about not having any inspiration. He suspected that she was afraid her work wouldn’t please him. His muse was still far too obedient for her own good.

He took a seat on the steps to watch her create her art. Seeing Julianne like this was incredibly sexy. Well, at least to him. She was actually panting and making soft grunting noises while she worked. Her hair was a wreck, pulled up in a haphazard ponytail. Her feet were bare. The white camisole she wore, he recognized. The ratty white sweatpants, he did not. Paint was smeared over her neck and shoulders. It looked as if she had dipped her hands in it and then run them over her body. In fact, that was exactly what she’d done.