by Penelope Sky
He moved toward me then placed his hands on my hips. His fingertips pressed into the cotton of my shirt, the pressure igniting my senses. Instantly, I felt my body come alive. I could smell his cologne, feel his arousal, and sense his desire. Naturally, my body prepared to take him because that’s what it wanted. I had been so eager for him last night, fantasizing about his kiss and his touch. I’d never gotten the release from that moment.
Looked like my body had more power than my mind.
He pressed his forehead to mine and brought me closer into him.
I wanted to fight it because he hurt me. But fighting it would only prolong the inevitable. I could take a stand, but that stand wouldn’t last long. My situation wouldn’t change, not unless I came up with a hundred million dollars to pay my debt to Conway. And even then, I would still need more money to pay Knuckles, along with my other bills.
I was stuck.
May as well make the best of it.
He moved his hand into my hair, and he tilted my face, forcing me to look at him. “I know you’re mad at me, but I want you. I’ve wanted you all night and all day.” His fingertips slid under the fall of my hair, and his hand inched underneath my shirt to my stomach.
He made me melt with just those simple words. I wanted to submit, and not just to please him, but to please myself. If I took the emotional heartache out of the picture, I knew I would need sex while living there. Conway was the sexiest man I’d ever seen, so if I could pick anyone, it would be him. Perhaps I needed to accept my circumstances instead of trying to make it mean something. It was just casual sex, meaningless and empty.
When I didn’t pull away, he leaned in to kiss me.
I turned my face away, giving him my cheek and hiding my lips.
No kissing. If this was just casual fucking, then no kissing. Kissing meant a lot more to me than anything else, so that was off the table. It was the only way I could protect my feelings. I always grew weak in the knees when his lips were on mine. It was when I felt most connected to him, felt the emotion in my heart.
I would never kiss him again.
I pulled my shirt over my head then unclasped my bra.
Conway’s eyes roamed over my body, the heat entering his gaze.
“You can have some of me. But you can’t have all of me.” I pulled my thong down next, then moved to the bed. I turned my back to him, not wanting to look at his face. I crawled on the bed, my position on all fours.
His jeans hit the ground, and he yanked his shirt over his head. He came up behind me, and when his knees hit the mattress, it sank. He inched closer to me then grabbed my hips. He leaned over me and pressed kisses to my spine.
I didn’t want that either. “Don’t kiss me, Conway.”
His breaths fell onto my skin, the heat and moisture gliding down my spine. He rested his forehead against the back of my neck, but he restrained from pressing his full lips against my warm skin.
He put his weight on the balls of his feet then gripped my hips as he positioned me against him.
I stared straight ahead, waiting for his massive cock to move inside me.
He pointed his head at my entrance and then pushed. My slickness lubricated my channel, and he glided inside without resistance. He inched all the way into me until he was completely sheathed. An audible moan escaped his lips.
I bit my bottom lip so I’d stay quiet.
He pulled on my hips as he thrust into me at the same time, moving deep and hard every time. His thick cock stretched me apart, and his length hit me in the right spot every time. His pace was perfect, giving it to me at a regular rhythm that ignited the fire inside me.
A part of me wished I could look at him, to see his powerful body flex and tighten as he moved. But another part of me didn’t want to see that sexy expression in his eyes, see the way he enjoyed me. It would only make me enjoy him even more…and that was the last thing I wanted.
His breathing intensified, and his cock thickened noticeably. His fingertips dug into my ass as he squeezed the muscle. I’d fucked him enough times to know when he was about to come. Right now, he was fighting it so I could go first.
He grabbed a fistful of hair and yanked, forcing my head back. He slammed into me harder, hitting me even more perfectly in the right spot. He went balls deep every time, his thrusts accompanied by masculine grunts. “Muse, come for me.”
My body tightened, and the heat rushed through my fingertips. I knew the pleasure was fast approaching. Even when I tried to keep him at a distance, my body couldn’t fight the goodness between my legs. Conway had an invisible power over me, the control of my reactions no matter how much I tried to fight them.
He fucked me harder.
Once I hit my threshold, there was no stopping it. I gripped the sheets with my fingertips, and I came all around his dick, sheathing him with my orgasm. “God…” It felt as good as all the other explosions. Only this man could make me feel this way, could hurt me so much, but still make me feel so good. “Yes…” I loved the way he pulled my hair and slammed into me at the same time.
He only lasted long enough for me to finish before he released with a moan, filling my pussy with all of his come. His hips bucked a few times at the end, his pumps becoming less and less. He shoved his dick completely inside me as he finished, making sure I got every single drop of his seed.
He leaned over me and pressed his face into the back of my hair. His chest was coated with sweat, and it clung to my back. He breathed into my hair, his cock slowly softening inside me. He caught his breath before he moved off me and lay beside me on the bed. He stared at the ceiling with his lidded eyes as his dick lay against his stomach.
It was tempting to lie beside him and relax, but the last thing I wanted was to snuggle with him. Now, this was just sex—and it would stay that way. I got off the bed, feeling his come shift inside me.
He propped himself on one elbow so he could look at me. “Where are you going?”
I didn’t turn around to look at him. “I’m going to take a shower. Good night, Conway.” Even if he wanted to sleep with me, I wouldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t have it both ways. He couldn’t have a relationship with me unless he was loyal to me. If he wanted it to be casual, then it would be casual.
I walked into the bathroom and locked the door behind me so there wouldn’t be any surprises. I got under the hot water and washed away his touch. I used to love the feeling of his seed inside me, but now I couldn’t stand it. It made me sick to my stomach because I wondered if he did the same with all the others.
I didn’t want to be one of the others.
I wanted to be different.
* * *
My life turned into a routine. I woke up early every morning and worked in the stables. Sometimes there wasn’t much to do, so I kept myself busy by finding other things that needed to be fixed.
Marco started to run out of stuff to do because I’d become self-sufficient.
When I returned to the house, I showered and asked Dante to bring dinner to my room. My plan was to avoid Conway at all costs until I didn’t have a choice. We didn’t have anything in common anyway. There wasn’t much to talk about.
And we certainly weren’t friends.
I was just about to head to the stables a week later when Conway appeared at my bedroom door.
Already dressed in my tight jeans and boots, I stared at him. My plaid shirt was tied around my waist so I could get a breeze along my torso. One hand rested on the door as I stared directly into his eyes, seeing the indifferent expression he always wore.
He continued to stare.
And I refused to speak.
His eyes roamed over my face, taking in my features like he was trying to memorize them. When his eyes settled on my lips, he spoke. “I’m working in the studio today. I want you there.”
I couldn’t refuse the request, not when being his muse was my entire purpose. “Let me change, and I’ll be there.”
“No need to change.
” He stepped away from the door. “You’re just going to take it off anyway.” He headed down the hallway to the next corridor where his home studio was located.
I stood there for a moment, digesting his words in silence. Throughout the week, he’d stopped by my room for sex. But that’s all it was. We fucked, and then he went to his room. There was no kissing or touching. There wasn’t cuddling when it was over.
Straight sex.
I followed behind him and entered his studio. His fabrics were organized, and his mannequin stood in the center with pins pressed into the material. The black rope piece he’d been working on hung on a hanger.
I felt the piece of lingerie in my fingertips, my thumb gliding over the nylon. It was simple but extremely sexy. It was one of my favorite pieces he’d ever created. It was difficult to believe I was the inspiration for it. “What are you working on now?”
“I haven’t sketched anything new lately. But I have some older ideas I wanted to create.” He opened his notebook. On each page was a different creation. He signed them and dated them in the top corner. The page he had the book open to had been sketched two weeks ago.
“What’s this one?”
“The Queen.”
“The Queen?” I asked.
“Yes.” He pointed to the fabric in the picture with a pencil. “Light pink fabric here. Bead of white here.” He pointed to another section. “Rose gold pendant here.” He pointed to the opening of the fabric. “It opens here and there.”
It was a great piece. The color hinted at an inexperienced woman, but someone who would grow into her power. The combination of champagne pink, white, and rose gold showcased a feminine collection of power. “It’s beautiful.” I wondered when it was inspired, but I didn’t ask because it wouldn’t matter.
He got to work and grabbed the first piece of fabric.
I stripped down to my thong, standing barefoot in the slightly cold room. A robe was hanging on the coat hanger by the door, so I pulled it over my shoulders. When I turned around, I saw Conway looking at me.
Once my skin was concealed, he got back to work.
I sat in the chair and watched him, leaving him to concentrate in silence. Now that we didn’t talk anymore, I didn’t feel like I knew him. He came to my room for sex, and we didn’t exchange a single word. Today was the longest conversation we’d had in over a week.
He kept working, cutting the fabric before he began to create his design. He started with the foundation first, getting the base of the fabric before he moved to the intricate design he had sketched out. “Marco tells me he’s getting bored.”
My eyes focused on his hands, watching his callused fingertips work the piece. “Yeah, I can tell.”
“You need to take it down a notch. There’s other things for you to do here.”
“Such as?”
“The pool, the gym, the library…many things.” His eyes never left his work. “Marco enjoys your company, but pretty soon, you’re going to put him out of a job.”
The last thing I wanted was for Marco to lose his retirement. He enjoyed his work, enjoying being outside with the horses while getting his hands dirty. He was connected to the Italian soil. “I don’t want that to happen.”
“Then take it easy.” His shoulders remained straight as he worked, and his posture was perfect. When his hands moved, the intricate muscles in his forearms shifted. It was no surprise he had such corded muscles and arms with the intricate work he did.
I didn’t want to do anything else, but since there was only so much work to be done, I couldn’t take it away from Marco. But then an idea popped into my mind. “What if we expanded?”
“What does that mean?”
“What if we got more horses? What if we got some chickens so we could have fresh eggs?”
“I’m not interested in having a farm.”
“Or cows and goats. I could use the milk to make cheese.”
“Again, not interested. I already paid a fortune for you. I don’t want to spend more money so you can have an expensive hobby.”
“It wouldn’t just be a hobby. I could sell everything we make at a local market.”
“Because I need more money,” he snapped. He didn’t break his concentration even though his tone rose.
I couldn’t override him when he made excellent points. He did pay a lot of money for me so he shouldn’t spend another dime to make me happy. “I need something, Conway. Without a purpose, I’ll be unhappy.”
He sighed as he started to sew the fabric together.
“Let me work with you in Milan. I can do more than just inspire you.”
“You aren’t modeling.”
That was another insult that burned. He wanted to keep me all to himself, but he couldn’t keep his dick in his pants. It made no sense. “I have two years of business classes under my belt. I can help you do other things.”
“You don’t need a business degree to run a business. You need experience.”
“Then let me have experience.”
This time, he ignored me. His gaze was downturned on his work. The concentration on his face was innately sexy. It reminded me of the nights he thrust between my legs. His eyes were on me, and he possessed me with just a look.
We sat together in silence for another twenty minutes. The sewing machine worked to fuse together the lines of fabric. Conway worked effortlessly, doing something innately complicated without appearing even slightly stressed.
There was a gnawing feeling in my stomach, something that haunted me every single day. I never asked because I knew he wouldn’t answer. But I needed to know the truth, or it would eat me alive. “Conway, I need to know something. You have to answer me. I deserve the truth.”
It was the first time he stopped working. He took his foot off the pedal and locked his gaze with mine.
“You wear something when you’re with the others?”
His expression didn’t change at all. He held my gaze without blinking, completely indifferent in response to my question.
“Conway,” I pressed. “I deserve to know.”
He turned his eyes back to his work. “You don’t need to worry about catching anything, Muse. So drop it.”
“I’m not going to drop it until I get an answer.”
“I just told you you don’t need to worry about it.”
“Is that a yes?”
The sewing machine came back on, and he finished his task.
I let it go because I wouldn’t get anything else out of him. He said I didn’t need to worry about it, so hopefully, that meant he was safe. He seemed too smart to catch something from a complete stranger. I had to hope my assumption was right.
He carried the piece to the mannequin and hung it up on the artificial body. The pink color was perfect under the light, and the cut of the fabric was exact. It was amazing he had created something in such a short amount of time.
“Do you sew the design directly into the fabric?”
“I’ll make a separate piece then stitch it directly on top.”
“Interesting…”
He sat down again and got to work.
I flipped through his notebook and looked at his different sketches. From the very beginning until the present time there was a distinct evolution. I could tell when he met me just by looking at his art. There was a noticeable shift in his design. “What exactly inspired this piece?”
“You.”
“I know, but did I do something?”
He picked up the beads and the rose gold pendant before he started to stitch it into the lace. He was quiet for so long it didn’t seem like he was going to answer me. Maybe he was concentrating so hard that he hadn’t heard me. Or maybe it was a question not worth answering. “Yes.”
I closed his sketchbook and stared at him. “What?”
“When you threatened to tell my family the truth if I didn’t treat you better.” He started in one corner of the fabric and then slowly moved downward. “It annoyed me, but I respe
cted it. It was smart, resourceful, and badass. Reminded me of something a queen would do. It made me want to fuck you even more…”
Once again, Conway Barsetti was an enigma. He wanted me to be the quiet submissive who did whatever he asked, but whenever I fought him, he seemed to respect me more. When I made demands, he argued against them but caved. It was complicated, and I still didn’t understand it.
He worked for another thirty minutes, completing the piece and making a royal design. It was beautiful, magnetic. He removed the base fabric from the mannequin then sewed the pieces together. It took him four hours to complete it entirely, but once he was done, it was a wearable piece of art. He examined it with his fingertips, looking at the minor details with an experienced eye. Then he turned to me. “Put this on.”
I set my robe on the table and pulled the dress over my head. It fit my measurements perfectly, from the straps over my shoulders to the tightness around my waist. I kept my panties on because he hadn’t made a pair to match the dress yet. I stood in front of him, admiring the way the color complemented my skin so well.
He stared me up and down, taking in every single feature as he moved down my legs. He raised his finger and made a turning motion.
I slowly turned in a complete circle, letting him see my sides as well as my behind. I continued to turn until I was facing him again, my shoulders back and my posture perfect. I watched the intensity burn in his eyes, witnessed the arousal come to life. He stared at the cut of the top, where my tits were on display. The fabric was tight around the bust, making my tits push together and create a cleavage line without padding.
“Beautiful.” He rose to his full height then wrapped his arms around my waist. His forehead pressed to mine as he explored my soft skin with his fingertips. He fingered the fabric as well as my skin underneath it. He played with the straps before he dragged two fingers down the valley of my breasts. Then he moved his hands up my stomach underneath the material, investigating every single way he could touch me.
He guided me to the couch that faced the full-length mirror. He undid his jeans and pulled them down to his thighs along with his boxers before he sat down. His long and hard cock lay against his stomach, ready for me. He wrapped his fingers around his shaft and slowly jerked himself as he held my gaze.