Ophelia frowned behind her mask. She had not forgotten that she had two paintings to finish. She had just not expected to be working on them tonight. However she knew he was right, and let him guide her without complaint.
With no mirrors to create a secret hallway this time, Tristan led past the main room and into another silk-draped hallway. This one was much busier than the private hall that had led to the previous office, and Ophelia gawked openly behind her mask as they passed open rooms full of people in various stages of dress, a trio of people pressed together in the hallway wall, taking turns kissing one another, and a naked woman kneeling in front of a closed door, her head bowed and her hands on her thighs; as if waiting patiently for whoever was inside.
“Take off your mask,” Tristan demanded when they reached the privacy of his new office.
As usual he’d locked the door behind them, ensuring their privacy. Still, Ophelia didn’t reach for her mask yet.
“Why do you insist that I work with my mask off?” She asked.
Tristan slipped his own mask off and placed it carefully on his desk.
“I like to see your face when you are working,” he answered honestly.
Ophelia laughed at that.
“What is so humorous about that?” He asked, raising a curious brow.
“Well for one you stand behind me,” Ophelia pointed out, “So I do not understand how you could see my face.”
“Is there a for two?” Tristan asked, his deep voice laced with amusement.
“And for two you never cared about my face before,” she quickly added, “I do not see why you would care about it now.”
Tristan crossed his arms as he sat atop his desk. The look he gave her was so intense that she reached up toward her mask and slipped it off; blushing as she did so.
“Gather your easel and things,” he said, nodding to the far wall as he still held her gaze, “They are right over there.”
It took Ophelia a moment but she finally tore her eyes from his, and looked in the direction he’d nodded his head. She found her materials and began setting them up in silence. It wasn’t until everything was precisely where she wanted to be that Tristan rose from the desk and walked around her; going to her back as he always did.
She let out a gasp in surprise and shivered when she felt his fingertips smooth over the edge of her left eyebrow and to her temple.
“You think I can not see your face when you are working?” He asked, his tone quiet; almost reverent, “I see more than you think. I see how this brow here tenses when you have decided that you do not like something in your painting.”
He gently traced his fingers down her face to the left corner of her lips, making her lashes flutter and heart beat spike.
“And your lips?” He went on, stroking his thumb gently over her bottom lip from one corner to the next, “They twitch, ever so lightly, when you are pleased with what is happening on your canvas.”
He then slowly dragged his thumb down the center of her bottom lip, over her chin, then to the front of her throat, right above her vocal cords as he stepped closer to her back andpressed his lips to her ear; sending a shot of heady arousal straight through her lower belly.
“And your throat?” He whispered, tracing his bottom lip over her ear; making her whimper, “It bobs, right here, when you are having an erotic thought. You swallow, as if doing so would make your feelings go away. I wonder…does it work?”
Ophelia swallowed against the feel of his fingertips. Not once in her entire life had she felt her secrets be so exposed as they were in that moment.
“No,” she breathed, then swallowed again, “It does not.”
“Pity,” Tristan murmured, sliding his hand away from her throat.
Ophelia’s body swayed forward as he removed his touch, and she blinked several times, trying to draw herself into focus.
“See? I can view much more than your work from my position back here,” he said from behind her. “Now, show me what you have come up with for tonight.”
A bold thought struck Ophelia, and instead of reaching for her brushes, she turned to face Tristan.
“I want try something new,” she told him.
Tristan raised a curious brow, his blue eyes glittering.
“Oh?”
