“I don’t trust journalists,” he tells her, grinding his palm against her hot, covered pussy.
“Then how?—”
“Shh, Gemma.”
She immediately complies.
“Let’s compromise,” he murmurs.
Her eyes focus on his mouth before they slide shut. She squeezes her thighs around his hand. “Compromise?”
“An exchange of trust,” he explains. He rubs the heel of his palm against the fabric directly covering her clit. “I don’t think that’s too much to ask. Do you?”
She blinks once, and he notices her pupils have dilated.
Gemma is aroused.
As Phillipe stands there, cupping the back of her neck with one hand while his other is wedged snugly between her strong thighs, she moves against him like a cat in heat. He watches the pulse flutter at the base of her throat before his eyes move to her moist pink lips. All he can think of is how fucking perfect they would look wrapped around his cock.
Perfect, plump, fuckable lips.
Lowering his mouth to hers, he suggests against those very lips, “I think for you to understand this story, you must first become a part of it.”
He feels her breathe out, and he can’t help but bite her quivering bottom lip. She looks close to climax, like she wants to scream for him. As he releases her mouth, she trembles, panting softly.
She tells him, “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“I want to paint you, Gemma,” he informs her.
He thrills at the hesitation he witnesses as her brain starts to catch up. She swallows, trying to pull away, but he keeps her where she is with a firm grip.
“No, don’t run. Aren’t you curious? Don’t you want to know how it feels to be vulnerable yet so powerful at the same time?”
Her breasts start to rise and fall quickly against his chest.
Moving his head so his cheek is resting against hers, he surmises, “Yes, I can tell you are. Don’t you want to know that intoxicating feeling of having a man”—he strokes harder and faster against where he can feel her arousal through her pants—“havingmeunder your spell?”
He lifts his head, his eyes connecting with hers. “The only way you can understand who Chantel was to me and how she really felt is to become her. You ask me to trust you, and in return, I’m asking you to trust me. Trust me to paint you, Gemma, in the poses of theBlind Vision Collection. Then you will have your story.” He lowers his head and takes her mouth with his own.
He slides deep between her lips, their tongues dancing in an erotic mating. He strokes and presses his hand firmly between her legs. She tightens those thighs like a vise around his hand and wrist and pushes her hips against him, driving herself toward her sexual release.
Pulling back slightly, he slides his hand from her neck to her hair, clutching it hard enough that her eyes pop open. “Tell me yes, Gemma,” he demands of her.
Her mouth parts as he strokes harder. She thrusts her hips twice more as he holds her captive. He has her exactly where he wants her.
Not even granting her reprieve to look away, he says again, “Tell me yes.”
Finally, those sexy lips part, and without his even touching her bare flesh, she screams her agreement into the morning air.
Revelations ~
Today was my turn to show Phillipe something. I knew if anyone would appreciate it, then it would be him.
I arrived at the chateau around noon. The sun wasn’t there to warm me today. It seemed the clouds had decided to chase it away, but not even that could take away the joy I was feeling.
When I arrived, he took me straight up to his studio. This was a place I was now very comfortable in, which was what he told me he’d wanted all along.
I explained to him that I had something to show him, knowing that he must have seen the music case I was holding in my right hand.
