The Artist's Love (Her Perfect Man Contemporary Romance)

by Z. L. Arkadie

  When we are finished, he looks off into the darkening sky. “The night is still young. Will you make it longer for me?”

  I feel a fluttering in my belly. “I thought you would never ask. What would you like to do?”

  He stands, outstretching his arm. “Come back to my place with me.”

  I remove the napkin from my lap and take his hand.

  With the host, Gianfranco leaves a large tip and specific instructions to give the cameraman enough to replace his camera.

  The host thanks him and tells him it was an honor to serve us. Apparently he is an admirer.

  On the way back to Gianfranco’s house, we discuss the many places we might like to visit together. I ask him about his art, hoping that he’ll show me Fixation when we are at his place. I want to know more about him and see how far he’s come.

  We pull into the drive. I can’t believe that several weeks ago, our relationship started here. He opens my door as a cool breeze comes up the hillside from the ocean.

  Again, he offers his hand. “My lady.”

  I take it, feeling overcome by his chivalry. “Will your butler be getting the door?”

  He laughs, takes out a key, and opens it. “He’s not here over the evenings.”

  He opens his palm for me to pass. The castle is warm inside. We walk through the hallways and into the room where we did the interview. He pours me a glass of wine. After a few drinks and some trifling conversation, his hand rubs the back of his neck

  “Are you all right?” I can’t tell if he’s uncomfortable, tired, or nervous.

  He removes his hand from his neck. “Oh, quite.”

  I stand and approach him. “Then what is it?” I run my fingers through his silky smooth hair.

  He stands, our bodies only inches apart. “It’s…”

  I can taste his breath, and I’m sure he can taste mine.

  “I’m ravished by your beauty.”

  I smile, my mouth falling open a little. “And I am yours.” I feel the currents in my body when our breaths merge.

  His hand strokes the nape of my neck. His tongue rims my lips, delicately but not without intensity. My knees want to buckle, but my racing heart keeps me upright. Every part of me anticipates what comes next.

  He takes me more firmly with a deep kiss, and my limbs grow weak, settling into his hands. I gasp when he sweeps me off my feet to cradle me, and he carries me out of the chamber.

  “And where are you taking me now?” I ask.

  “I want you to try something with me. Something I’ve never done before.”

  “Will it hurt?” I almost want that, as long as it hurts so good.

  His mouth turns down at the corners. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  My body lies limp in his arms, waiting for whatever comes next. The large doors to the room I first saw him in swing open with a thrust from his leg. He lays me on the silk rug covering the stone floor, then he makes his way around the room, lighting candles. When he’s finished, he kneels at my feet and opens my legs—my body tenses with anticipation.

  His hand brushes against my bare thigh, and he stares at my center. I feel the tips of his fingers edge toward my warmth, then across it, gracing my already throbbing clit.

  My back arches toward the ceiling twenty feet above, and my eyes fall to his masterpiece on my left. When I turn back, his face is slowly moving toward my pussy. My panties slide from my bottom as if they were taken by the wind, and he begins making love to me with his mouth as I’ve never experienced it before.

  My palm rests against his forehead, pushing and pulling. It doesn’t know what to do. The way his tongue sweeps my clit. It’s a concentrated effort. He stays in one place—stroking and stroking. This is too much for me, and at the same time, I want more—each brush sends building sensations through my body. I moan. I want to explode with orgasm.

  His finger enters me, my door already wet and open. It rubs my spot, and my body quivers. I lift my head. I want to see his eyes.

  I moan, and my head falls back. My feet slip as my body backs away uncontrollably, only he doesn’t let it. His finger keeps pressing, tantalizing my inner nerves. What’s never felt obtainable before builds like fire inside me. All the while, his tongue feasts on my throbbing hard knot.

  “Ahhh!” I come. “Ahhhh!” I come again. My hand moves to the back of his head and pulls him in. “Ahhhhhh!” My body shakes against the floor. That one was bigger than them all.

  I can barely breathe before I feel his finger slide out of me and up my stomach toward my chest. He opens my wrap dress while basking in my scent, gently licking his lips. I’m raw with emotion and electrified by his touch. Every time he nears my center, I quiver.

  “Do you feel that?” he asks as if there’s no end in sight.

  Our eyes finally connect. His fingertip swells my nipple with hardly a touch.

  I nod slowly, trying not to shift from his touch.

  “I do too.” His tongue crawls from my clit up my body to my neck, where he sucks me as though I’m nature’s nectar. “I’ve never felt this way before.”

  I am amazed. “Neither have I.” And he hasn’t even entered me yet.

  My chin raises, and I swallow. I feel him against me, pressing against his pants. I slide my hand down to his waist, unbutton him, and wrap my hands around him. My eyes expand when I realize his size. I unzip him so that my hands may wrap around his waist and help his pants fall before I guide him in. I open myself, letting the weight of his body push his shaft deep within me.

  I gasp and tense, torn by desiring his slow, all-encompassing thrusts and fearing I’ll tear. Yet each movement, sensual and deep, touches me. I choose not to despair at his size, and my body swoons from a maze of new sensations. I take one last deep breath and let go. My eyes roll back. He falls deeper within me, each indulgent thrust catching my nerves—all of them.

  I clench his penis, feeling my build, and along with me, I feel his. He thrusts steadily, methodically increasing in pace, yet I still feel his long strokes against my opening. I’ve never… my insides clamp him like an angry fist, followed by my guttural moan. He keeps going. I lay helplessly on my back, and before long find another orgasm, and another, before I feel our souls finally return to the room.

  I look down. His seed is all over me. Our sweaty bodies cool against the floor as we breathe in unison. The entire room smells of sex, I’m sure.

  He rolls beside me, covering me with his thigh, and kisses my lips gently.

  “That was some idea you had,” I say.

  He smiles. “We never made it there.”

  “Where?”

  “To my idea.”

  “Oh my gosh.” I tremble with fear, unsure if I can sustain another round. “Is it some other chamber where you have whips and straps dedicated to torture?”

  He laughs. “Is that your wish?"

  I shrug, feeling like anything would be safe with him. He stands, his shaft dangling above me, and gets a large piece of canvas from the corner of the room. He lays it next to me on the floor.

  “Was this your idea?”

  He nods.

  “Are you going to paint me, Gianfranco?”

  “I am.”

  My body reels from another new sensation. “I’ve never had anybody paint me before… well, I mean… I’ve never done this before.”

  He looks at me while spreading the canvas across the floor. “Neither have I.” He takes a pallet and readies it with paints.

  I lay still, staring at him in awe. His sweat has largely dried, and he’s so perfectly shaped. “If anything, I should be drawing you.”

  He smiles. “We might just have to try that.” He kneels by my side.

  I shift nervously, making him some space.

  “Just stay as you are.” He puts out his hand, motioning me to stay.

  I lie still, remaining unsure. His brush dabs the pallet, and he looks at me. I gather he’s planning on where he would like to start before marking his canvas.
/>   I try as hard as I can to hold my position, awaiting his first stroke. He remains studying me, the canvas on his other side.

  He leans forward, brush in hand. My gaze follows the tip of his brush straight to where it makes contact above my nipple.

  I take a short breath through my mouth. “It’s cold.”

  “I could warm it for you,” he says while drawing a long stroke across my left breast.

  I feel my eyes sparkle. “I’ll be okay.”

  He refreshes his brush and makes a stripe across my other side.

  I can’t help but laugh. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”

  “I am quite sure.” He breaks his concentration from his fresh marks. “No one has inspired me like you before.”

  I melt, and he returns to his work. I watch. Every part of him remains undistracted, intent, focused on me. My body feels warm and fulfilled, as it did when he was touching me, on top of me, feeling me, holding me, licking me, fingering me, fucking me.

  I let my legs fall open. “Do you have a pillow?”

  He leans forward with a kiss. “But of course, and how about a bottle of wine?”

  After he fetches a pillow for me, and some wine, I let him work. It satisfies me to watch him create with me and on me. Watching him be enthralled by what he is doing to me because he says it’s me satisfies me.

  His candles burn. Our glasses empty, and he works on, gently pressing my body against the canvas as every motion is art itself.

  “If you are finished, at any time, you must tell me,” he says, assuring my comfort.

  Does he even now how full I am? It’s like standing in the sun’s warm rays after the cold clouds break. I’ll let him continue as long as he pleases while I admire his perfectly sculpted physique.

  19

  I wake the next morning by his side, my body sore from last night. After he finished painting me, we showered, then went to his bedroom and slept. Glimmers of morning light come in through the windows. I slip from his sheets so as not to disturb him and begin to dress before I remember he drove. He rolls in the bed. I leave the room with my phone and call Floriana.

  “You must be having a very bad night,” she says. I picture her smiling.

  “It was okay.”

  “Okay? Liza, my dear, you have been out all night and now morning. This is not the making of something just okay.”

  I chuckle. “All right, maybe it was better than okay.”

  She says nothing.

  “Maybe it was amazing.”

  “There, that is what I thought.” Being that she was Elsa’s nanny and is now mine, she’s known the details of my relationships since I got here. “Aiden, bless his little soul, is just fine. We played jumbo Legos, had spaghetti, and watched Barney.”

  “That’s good.”

  “And now I want you to continue to have a nice time. You are needing it. I will keep Aiden for as long as you need.”

  “Thank you so much, but I’ll be coming home soon.”

  “You’re going home?” Gianfranco’s voice chimes in from behind me.

  I turn around. Gianfranco stands in the hallway. I tell Floriana I will call her back if I need to. “Oh. Well, I’ll need to return sometime today. I have Aiden.”

  “This is not a problem. Bring him here.”

  “You want to bring Aiden here?”

  “Of course, why not? I will be able to spend more time with you this way.”

  I look into his endearing eyes. He’s being genuine, I can feel it.

  He continues. “I like your son. He will have fun here. We will have fun here. There is no need to go.”

  I think about what he has said. He and Aiden did get along well, and I am off work for a while—a long while. I haven’t yet made any plans. Spending time with him might be an excellent way to start my time off. I look back at him, and he touches the base of my arm.

  “Okay.” I smile.

  He continues staring into my eyes, then he pulls me to him. I feel him hardening against me. We find ourselves once again in breathless passion. His lips take mine, and he guides me down onto the upholstered bench against the wall.

  “You are fueling my flame,” he says, parting my thighs.

  I feel his rock-hard stiffness brushing against my wettening lower lips. He lifts my hips and angles himself in.

  I moan as, this time, he slides in with ease. I remain open from the night before. My pelvis gyrates, and I find my spot. It feels new again, different. I shift a little more while he indulges his thrusts, and the warming sensations begin. Again, my orgasm is building. He fills his mouth with my breast, licking and sucking as much of my flesh as he can.

  My juices flow as my pelvic thrusts become even more pointed and refined. He’s brushing my nerves over and over again. My hands grip the edge of the bench for stability. I arch my back, squeezing him with my legs.

  He takes a handful of my tit, his other keeping my pelvis supported as he pushes deeper and deeper inside me. Then his hand moves from my breast to my throat and gives it a squeeze.

  My eyes open with surprise, then I close them and moan in complete and utter satisfaction. We’re fucking as I’ve never fucked before, and I love this new and sultry phase of my passions. My juices flow around my butt cheeks until my pelvis jolts high, my climax too much for me to keep inside. I erupt. He stays erect for only a split second before exploding himself. Both of us soak each other with our fluids, and I flow like never before.

  We kiss our way back to the bedroom to roll in the sheets for another two hours. Our lovemaking has shades of all varieties. He indulges every part of me in ways that I never thought possible, and my body opens like a spring flower with a desire to be plucked.

  I look at the time. “I do have to get Aiden soon.”

  “Great. We will clean up and go.”

  I nod, and we kiss our way to the shower. The warm water pelts our skin deliciously.

  “How many people have you stuffed in here?” I ask.

  “Again, a shower with more than one is a first for me.”

  While I finish cleaning up, Gianfranco makes us some sandwiches, and we arrive at my house just before three. Aiden remembers Gianfranco and gives him a hug.

  I speak with Floriana briefly and give her a nice bonus for staying overnight. I have her pack Aiden’s favorite blanket and some other things—I told her I would be taking Aiden back to the castle. I also pack my things.

  Over the next days and nights, Aiden and I settle into his place almost as though it’s my own hotel. We spend time together, but Gianfranco also takes care of his work. I don’t smother him or expect that just because we are his guests, I need to command every moment of his attention. I have Aiden, and we have his toys and complete access to this grand castle.

  We all go for walks around the garden, eat, and play together. Luciana, the cook, prepares wonderful meals. And while Gianfranco is working, I take his car and enjoy driving with Aiden deeper into the countryside, and we find a couple of beautiful villages. They’re the kind of places where I can learn more about local history from talking to the people in the cafes than I could ever get in the history books.

  In one case, the local lord who settled the area had a mistress, but the children she bore were fathered by a thief of the castle. When the lord found out about it, he exiled his mistress and all of his children by her. Those children were the ones who settled this area hundreds of years ago.

  When I get back, the servers are preparing the dinner table. The cook made shells from homemade pasta with sauce made from tomatoes in the garden. Aiden always likes fresh tomato sauce, and tonight Gianfranco is helping him eat it the Italian way—that’s without making such a big mess.

  “We should go somewhere,” he says. “I am almost complete with Fixation and need to find space in Paris for a gallery. Do you like the French, Aiden?”

  Aiden makes a happy funny noise, and Gianfranco laughs. They’ve been really getting a kick out of each other.


  “Oh, how’s it coming?” I try to take any chance I can to slip in a question about his work, but he’s been pretty tight-lipped about it lately.

  “It is good. It is coming good.”

  Yep, that’s about as much as I can get from him, and judging from the others I’ve talked to around here, that’s a lot more than most people hear.

  “So, Aiden, would you like to go to Paris with Mommy and me?” he asks.

  “Si!” Aiden bangs his silverware on the table as he always does when he gets excited, which happens a lot when Gianfranco talks to him.

  Gianfranco looks at me. “There we have it—the king has decided.” He tickles Aiden’s belly. In all seriousness, he looks at me and says, “Really, I would like for you to go. I have a very nice apartment there. Paris is one of my long-time favorites. It will have enough room for you to bring Floriana too.”

  I smile. Who could say no to that? Thoughts of traipsing around Paris with Gianfranco are about as much as I can handle. “It’s too bad she’s not here tonight,” I say with a devilish grin.

  “Maybe we can work something in after bedtime?”

  I nod. We finish dinner, and Gianfranco plays blocks with Aiden. I head into Gianfranco’s bedroom and wind two ties onto the railing at the edge of the bed, a little something I ordered from Amazon. I haven’t had a rough toss in the sack since the other night and am feeling the need to explore my darker side again, desires I was unaware I had until our first frisky evening several nights ago.

  After putting down Aiden, Gianfranco requests a few minutes to clean up his studio. I take the time to finish readying myself. When Gianfranco comes into the bedroom, I’m lying on the bed in a dark silk nightie.

  “You know black is my favorite,” he says while unbuttoning his shirt.

  “I know. I didn’t wear it by accident.”

  He slides slowly out of his attire, unleashing a body that looks as though it were sculpted by Michelangelo. He comes toward the bed and crawls on top of me, wasting no time with his nose around my neck. The thought about a toss somewhere in the castle’s dungeon hasn’t left my head, but I’m not brave enough to share it with Gianfranco yet.