The Sculptor's Seduction (The Gentlemen's Guild Book 2)

by Dr. Rebecca Sharp

  Whether it was from desire or despair, she was going up in flames tonight.

  “Why?” she asked softly, raising her eyes to his. “Why can’t you?” Her question came out harder. She didn’t wait for an answer… she wasn’t sure she wanted one at this point. “What’s wrong with me, Sloane? Why don’t you want me?”

  She flung her arms out to the side, stepping back from him and catching only a glimpse of his shocked expression.

  “Is it that I used to pick up guys in bars and sleep with them? Is it because I’m a stripper?” She laughed even as the tears streamed down her face. “Is that it?” She tore off her t-shirt, letting him see the white lingerie that she still had on from her attempt to go to work earlier. “Is it beneath you because other men—” She pulled on leg out of her yoga pants. “—pay to see—” And the other leg. “—this.”

  If she hadn’t been so hysterical, she would have seen the rage brewing in his face as she ranted on.

  “Am I not your type? Or maybe I’m just not that attractive. I know you didn’t want me from the start; I know it’s only because of Pierce that I’m here. I’m sorry if I’m not quite like your other models. I’ve seen your work – all of yours – and I’d have to be blind to not know what went on with those women. I’m sorry if I’m not enough of whatever they were for you to want to be with me, but at least have the decency to tell me what it is. At least have the decency to tell me why you keep building this… whatever this is between us… up only to turn around and crush me.” She gasped in air, her chest heaving for a split second before she pleaded softly. “Just tell me what’s wrong with me… why you don’t want me… so I can stop feeling like an inadequate whore for trying to seduce a man who, it seems, is never going to want me enough to be that close to me.”

  Her hands covered her mouth, muffling her sob, before wiping away the streaks of liquid on her cheeks. Her gaze returned to his and her breath faltered at what she saw. Anger seethed from him. Every muscle in his body was tense as he watched her, waiting for her self-degrading words to stop.

  Then he stepped towards her – stalked, really. Her eyes widened and she backed up until her back touched the cold stone behind her and she had nowhere else to go. He stopped in front of her with barely an inch between them. His eyes captured hers, locking her gaze with his.

  Cyn felt his fingers around her wrist, moving her hand down away from her mouth, down between their chests, and then she felt her palm press hard against the ridge of his arousal.

  “Does this feel like a man who doesn’t want you?” He ground out. “Because let me tell you what, vixen. To me, this feels like a man who is hanging on by a thread to not rip that scrap of fabric off of you and take you on this floor right now. This—” He hissed as he pushed her hand against him again. “—feels like a man who has had to jack off every damn day because I can’t get the taste of the sweetness between your thighs or the image of your perfect mouth around my cock off of my mind.”

  Cyn felt her mouth drop in shock at his confession and moisture pool between her thighs. She let her fingers gently squeeze around the hard length of him. Immediately, he groaned and stepped back from her again.

  Pain again shot through her. “Then why do you keep pulling away?” she whispered in defeat, her hand dropping to her side.

  “Because, Cyn, I’m afraid I won’t be able to control myself once I have you. Is that what you wanted to hear?” he roared. Her brow furrowed as she saw his pain written all over his face. “You want to know why my father wasn’t in the picture? Why I cooked with my mom to try to help her from her depression? Because my piece-of-shit dad couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. He was addicted to sex, Cyn. And he brought home different women almost every night unless he was too drunk or too high that he decided to get a hotel room instead. I never thought I could be so consumed by my desire for someone to do what he did, until I met you; some days, I want you more than I want to breathe and that scares the shit out of me.”

  Her heart was beating out of her chest. It was as though she could see the boy he had been, watching his father hurt his family this way.

  “And you’re right about one thing – you are absolutely nothing like my other models; those women I never thought twice about and never once touched.” His hands were planted on his hips as his body vibrated with a mix of desire and tense frustration. “Cyn.” Her name came out on a harsh, deprecating laugh. “I never fucked any of them. And not just them… I’ve never slept with a woman before.” His tortured gaze met hers. “So, believe me when I tell you that I’ve never wanted anyone in my entire life like I want you. Resisting sex was easy… resisting you is the hardest goddamn thing I’ve ever had to do.”

  Out of all of the things that she’d seen and heard and experienced today… his confession wiped them from her mind.

  He’d never had sex before.

  Holy. Shit. Sloane was a virgin.

  How could he… how had he…

  From the look on his face, she knew that her expression was a textbook image of pure shock. The thought would have been too unbelievable if every previous action of his didn’t suddenly make sense; it was the piece of him that connected everything together.

  An ache began to spread through her chest, thinking about this kind, unquestioningly supportive man had punished himself for his entire life for the sins of his father. With Marcus, she’d had a glimpse into what his mother must have felt like, but even that couldn’t let Cyn imagine what her pain must have been like.

  Sloane had refused to let her continue thinking of herself as unworthy of her dream and now, she knew how he felt seeing her constantly punish herself for something that was never her fault; now, in the same way, she couldn’t let him continue thinking that being intimate with her was going to turn him into a monster.

  She closed the distance between them. Sloane remained frozen in place, his eyes watching her every move.

  She reached down to pull one hand off of his hips, pulling its heavy, hesitant weight towards her.

  “Sloane,” she whispered, “you are not your father. You are not going to hurt me.” She raised his hand and placed it on her chest, over her heart, feeling the warmth and electricity from his skin spread down through her. “I have spent years seeing myself as Marcus saw me and you have shown me that that isn’t who I am. Let me show you that the man I see in front of me is not a monster; you are not your father, Sloane.” Her right hand raised to the side of his face. “You’re trying to protect me from him, but keeping yourself away from me is only letting him hurt me more; don’t let him hurt you anymore, Sloane.” His head turned into her hand as he squeezed his eyes shut, a battle between what he always thought and what he knew to be the truth waging inside of him. “Just let me love you.”

  Her final words capture his attention; her lips parting with its intensity. Cyn allowed herself to get lost in the clear blue of his eyes, watching the color shift and change as he stared at her; the bright azure deepened drastically to that of a navy night sky and the way he was looking at her made her feel like she was his North star, like she was the only light guiding him through his darkness.

  The pregnant pause was filled by the soft melody coming from the street below; the Alessia Cara lyrics floating through the space and Cyn thought that in that moment when she rose on her tip-toes to touch her lips to his, nothing could be closer than them to the truth.

  She prayed to be sculpted by her sculptor.

  Chapter 21

  Sloane stood frozen – paralyzed by his ache to be with her and by his fear of hurting the beautifully, perfect woman in front of him.

  He’d told her that he hadn’t had sex before.

  He hadn’t planned on it, but he couldn’t have stopped his admission even if he wanted to after seeing – hearing – what she had said. How could she ever think that something was wrong with her? The thought defied his comprehension.

  As much as he had done to tell her and show her that she was more than how Ma
rcus had treated her, why should she believe him if he continued to deny his feelings for her… if he continued to distance himself from her?

  There were two things that could have happened: one, she could have understood his reasoning and accepted it, leaving him to live his life alone and in peace. Or, she could walk towards him and be the voice of reason inside of his mind which remained plagued with unfounded fears of history repeating itself.

  Those were the two options – and they sat on his shoulders like a Devil and an Angel, each fighting for him to pick their side.

  There was only one side that Cyn would take though.

  Sloane watched in slow-motion as her lips approached his and he knew that his angel had won the battle the second she’d walked into the studio with tears streaming down her face, begging him to take her.

  He would do anything to take away her pain.

  He knew that he was ignoring all the warnings, but he’d worry about the morning in the morning.

  The sweetness of her lips touched his and under the white-hot flame of her kiss, his icy resolve melted into liquid desire.

  Sloane thought that if this moment ever came, he wouldn’t be able to control himself. After denying his body for so long, finally freeing himself from that cage would result in a completely unbridled response.

  Instead, he found that even though his body – especially certain parts – begged for that quick release, he took his time. Maybe it was partly out of fear – the unknown of what would happen to him and his emotions after the fact – or maybe it was because he wanted to make sure he could control himself long enough to pleasure her.

  He would make sure of that.

  His arms wrapped around her, her head angling so that his tongue had better access to its sweet depths. He moved her back until he felt her gasp against his mouth as the cool marble came into contact with her mostly exposed back. He felt the march of goosebumps as they trespassed over her soft skin; she shivered as his hands lightly traced down over the exposed flesh of her ass and then up along her hips to grasp her corseted waist.

  His teeth pulled her tender lower lip into his mouth and sucked gently as he pulled back from her, freeing it to meet her heady gaze. As he held her, her hands had been trapped against his chest. Now, one slid down between them, returning to its previous position clasping his arousal.

  Sloane hissed as need pierced through him. “I’m going to have you, Cyn, don’t doubt it,” he promised. “But, if you keep touching me like that, vixen, I’ll come before I get the chance.” Cyn’s eyes widened and her hand quickly returned to his chest. “Right now, I need to taste you.”

  Before she could say or do anything to contradict him, Sloane was on his knees pushing the scrap of white fabric to the side of her folds. His hands hooked one leg and then the other over his shoulders as his mouth covered her sex. Cyn reached behind her to grip the edges of the marble for support as his mouth engulfed her.

  He heard her moan his name over and over again as his tongue teased and tormented her core with no mercy until she came. A groan escaped him as her scream ripped through her and he greedily lapped the rush of sweet desire that flooded his mouth.

  Ever so gently, he pulled his head away from her, letting her legs come to rest on the ground. He pushed back to stand an arm’s length away from her, looking at her resting against the marbled version of herself, her head tipped back against the statue’s collarbone, her body flushed and alive against the white and gray lifeless stone, her chest heaving from the rush of her orgasm and her core glistening between her thighs.

  Soon, he would be there – his arousal coated with that same honey as her body milked from him every ounce of pleasure that he’d denied himself all of these years; a denial that had never been a problem until he met her.

  His erection fought against the front of his pants in anticipation, begging to be where his mouth had just been, knowing that tonight it would finally be a reality.

  Her head rolled forward and she saw his burning gaze, staring at what was about to be his.

  She slowly stepped to him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Take me, Sloane,” she whispered against his lips.

  His arms came around her again, crushing her to him. “Not here.” And then his lips crushed hers as he hoisted her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist; the brush of her core against his arousal doing nothing to stop the desire that was quickly becoming uncontrolled.

  He didn’t need to look – he’d walked this path a thousand times. He carried Cyn into the small apartment and to the bed that they had shared the other night. It wasn’t as nice or as big as his bed at One57, but this place felt more like a home than that space ever did; it made sense that if he was going to take anything – or lose anything – it should be here.

  He laid her down gently on the mattress, taking one last draw from her mouth before he stood up to look down over her. He greedily took in the sight of his angel – her jet-black hair forming a halo around her porcelain face and her lips bright red from being ravaged by his mouth. He finally took stock of what she had on – the emotions that her tirade had evoked distracted him from really paying attention to lingerie that was barely covering her.

  She was wearing a white lace corset that tied in the back with a silk sash. Her gorgeous breasts were pushed up by the underwire of the bra, provocatively and precariously close to spilling out over the edge. The lace fabric over her torso was only marked by the white ribbing that ran down the front, accentuating her toned stomach. And that left the bottoms – a skimpy white thong with a ruffle detail along the side of her thighs. It looked like the main part of it was lace, but it was a little hard to tell since it was still pushed to the side of her core.

  She’d begged him to take her and in the process, he was afraid that he’d lost himself and his heart.

  “Jesus, vixen…” he rasped, his mouth completely dry from the sight of her sprawled on the small bed.

  Then he was on top of her, his mouth claiming her luscious red lips again. Her head tilted to give his tongue better access as he consumed her. One hand slid up her stomach, over the lace contraption that she had on to cup her breast through the fabric that barely contained the swollen mound. He kneaded her tender flesh for only a moment before he yanked the cup down, releasing her breast into his grasp. His thumb immediately found her erect nipple, toying with the soft peak and swallowing her moans of pleasure.

  The control that he thought he had evaporated knowing what was to come. Pushing himself up, he pulled his shirt over his head before his hands grasped the top edge of her corset, ripping the delicate fabric all the way down her stomach, freeing her body to his hungry gaze.

  She gasped as he pulled the destroyed garment from underneath her, tossing it onto the floor. “I’ll buy you another,” he grumbled. “Hell, I’ll buy you a thousand others as long as I get to be the only one who sees you in them.”

  The heat from his possessive words quickly mixed with the heated pleasure of his mouth as he bent to take one aching bud into his mouth. She arched against him as he licked, sucked, and tortured the sensitive nub. Then, he began kiss his way over to her other breast.

  “Oh, Sloane,” she moaned, her hips jerking up against his.

  He froze. Hearing her moan his name was like a shot of pure need straight to his groin and he knew that if he didn’t get inside of her now, he would end up ruining another pair of pants.

  He pushed himself off of her. Standing, he undid his pants dropping them and his boxer-briefs to the floor. As he stood back up, his gaze focused on her face, watching her take in the sight of him.

  He watched her swallow forcefully as her eyes widened, locked onto his arousal jutting out from his hips. He hadn’t seen her expression the other night when she’d pleasured him, but he imagined it was similar to the one he was seeing now – a mix of shock, awe, and anticipation.

  Sloane knew what he looked like – knew just what kind of erection he was capable of. Even thoug
h he’d never had a woman see him or touch him to tell him explicitly, just from seeing other men he knew he was much more well-endowed than most. The thought that he might physically hurt her was just one more thing to add to the list of reasons why this was not a good idea.

  But that list was a distant, distant memory right now.

  He climbed back onto the bed, between her thighs that were parted and waiting. Kneeling, he grabbed and tore her thong, throwing the string of material off the side of the bed to join its equally destroyed counterpart.

  He stared as her glistening folds spread wide before him. His finger instinctively tracing along her entrance, groaning as he felt a rush of wetness greet his fingertips. His gaze moved to hers, watched her breathing falter as she saw his arousal enlarge even further, eager to take its place where his fingers currently were.

  “You’re so wet for me, vixen,” he whispered hoarsely. “So ready…”

  She moaned, her hips arching against his gently exploring fingers. “Please, Sloane…” Her body vibrated with need, whimpering and begging for a firmer touch.

  His breaths became ragged as he bent over her.

  “Cyn,” he rasped. “I don’t know… what’s going to happen… once I’m inside you.” He hissed as her hips jerked again, causing the back of his hand to brush the head of his swollen erection. “Don’t want to hurt you… not sure I can control…” His head dropped to the corner where her neck met her shoulder, his mouth biting into the soft flesh at that juncture as he moved his hand off of her center to firmly grasp his own flesh, leading it toward her hot heaven.

  Her hand cupped the side of his face, pulling it to hers.

  “You won’t hurt me, Sloane,” she whispered. The blunt head of his erection brushed her wet entrance and Sloane bit into his cheek as he felt his body jerk with the need for release. “I need you… please… I need you to take me hard.”