“Can you be that honest, Gemma? Can you let yourself go and be that raw?”
I agree quickly, afraid he’s going to change his mind—or that I will.
He lets me go. “Acquiesceseems to be a perfect fit for you today, but it’s too cold outside. So let’s go down to the music room. You can pose there.”
He turns on his heel and walks away from me. I tell myself to move, to follow him, but for the moment, I’m stuck where I’m standing, wondering what I just agreed to.
I finally make my way out of the studio and head downstairs.
Passing by the painting ofRhapsody, or at least a print of it, I’m reminded of the first time I saw it only weeks earlier. It still calls out to me, but now, instead of stopping to examine it, I find myself rushing past it to get to her music room, whereheis waiting for me. As I descend the stone stairs, I realize that I’m no longer frightened of what’s below. I’m anxious and extremely aroused.
I know what we discussed just moments ago affected him, and I understand his need to digest what I was truly saying to him.
When I reach the bottom step and turn, I’m greeted by bright lights. My eyes move around the odd room until I see him standing with his back against the wall, watching me quietly.
“Come in.”
“Said the spider to the fly?” I ask, stepping forward.
I see that he’s moved a wooden bench into the center of the room.
“Acquiescemeans to submit or comply silently. Did you know that?”
“Yes,” I manage to say as I walk closer to him. “Where are your paints?”
“Upstairs,” he replies, his hands moving to his belt buckle.
Licking my lips slowly, I ask, “Then how are you going to paint me?”
I’m trying to focus on his face, but the soft snick and clink of metal is distracting me, so once again, my eyes fall to his waist.
“I’m not. The whole idea of painting you was to gain your trust. Obviously, I have it, since you told me upstairs I can do whatever I want to you. Over and over again.”
I swallow. “Why the bench?”
“I still want you to feel her, Gemma, to understand her.”
He reaches across the space to take a handful of my shirt, pulling me forward. I stumble, my shins lightly hitting the wood, as I’m held in a somewhat awkward pose.
“Now, I know you trust me. It’s time to see ifIcan trustyou. I’m going to let go of your blouse, and I want you to take one step back, bend over, and place your palms on the bench. Can you do that, Gemma? Can you submit and comply silently?”
I blink slowly, my head starting to spin. He’s seducing me. I can feel him slowly sliding over me, searching for a way to slippast my defenses, and this time, I’m aware of it. This time, I want to be seduced.
He lets go of my shirt and straightens, and I do as requested. I step back and bend over. I place my hands on the bench, pointing my ass out.
I comply, and I do it all silently.
Phillipe watches as Gemma takes a step back. Eyes locked with his, she bends at the waist to do as he requested.
Her blonde hair has been left free today, and it falls like a curtain down both sides of her face. That just won’t do. He wants to see her face.
Making his way over to the elaborate sound and recording system, he turns it on and selects the piece he is searching for. Hitting play, he looks back to see Gemma with her neck crooked and her head raised.
“Have you ever heard ‘Lux Aeterna’ fromRequiem for a Dream, Gemma?” he asks, reaching down to undo the top button of his pants.
My eyes are transfixed on him as the eerie piano begins to play over and over, and theresheis. Chantel has entered the room with us.
The music and violin is filtering in from all around us, and it’s chilling. The intensely desperate melody floats around me, and it’s feeding some dark, fucked-up part of my brain. When he’s walking toward me, I know what he’s about to do.
