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Excerpt
She stepped into the entrance hall
at Musée Rodin and marveled at its understated elegance. A staff member came up
and collected her cape before Lia moved forward to greet the Antonellis and
their various children and grandchildren. Afterwards she stepped further into
the museum where she was handed a glass of bubbling champagne.
The opportunity to view the work
from a master sculptor sans the usual throng of onlookers was not something she
could ignore. With glass in hand she wandered the ground floor rooms first. It
was easy to appreciate the emotion Rodin had poured into his work; the beauty
all those feelings produced was unsurpassed in her view.
Her stroll through the lower
galleries was unhurried, as she enjoyed having it almost entirely to herself.
Not many of the guests had taken advantage of the opportunity to view such
incredible pieces as the Hands of God
and The Kiss. The Walking Man
brought her to a standstill. So many emotions had flowed through Rodin’s hands
when he created this powerful striding forward and yet headless man. Awed by the
emotive qualities she found so readily in this piece, she wondered if her
sculpted work ever communicated her feelings to the viewer so clearly.
Lia offered a polite smile here
and there to people she passed as she meandered through the galleries. With a
fresh glass of champagne in hand she headed upstairs and found the area
completely deserted. She enjoyed The
Thinker before she continued onward and mused over Fugit
Amor, whilst sipping her champagne.
A soft shuffling sound drew her
attention back to the doorway where she found none other than the man who, since
the day she’d met him, had been the lead in her most erotic fantasies. Attired
in a traditional black tuxedo and bow tie, he looked utterly handsome, and if it
were possible more potent than he had been in street clothes or even his racing
kit.
Silky mink brown hair, thick with
a slight curl danced around his head and drew attention to his eyes of a light
hazel brown/green, surrounded by long and thick eyelashes. His silky smooth
tanned skin had often left her wondering what it would be like to stroke. Was
his chest as sleek as his face?
Lia brought her mind from the
bedroom and back to the museum.
“Good Evening, Kirk.” A small,
unsure smile flitted across her lips. She was not certain how to handle this man
outside of the sittings they had had. She had been in control there, but here,
alone with him, she felt out of her element.
“Lia.” Brusque and too the
point, his hazel gaze held hers without blinking.
The perfect specimen of sexual
magnetism moved to stand next to her; closer than was necessary being the only
two people in the room. She looked up, and up. The top of her head reached just
short of his shoulders, and asked the obvious.
“Where is your date?”
“I came on my own this
evening.”
A faint Scottish accent whispered
across his words. Tick another box on the arousal list growing beneath his name.
“Interesting sculpture.”
Discomfort had her voicing such a benign statement for the famed artist.
“Hmmm. I enjoy your pieces more.
They are very peaceful, soothing.”
“Oh, well thank you very
much.” The compliment surprised and pleased her, she was not sure why but it
did. Turning back she looked at the piece without really seeing it.
After a moment Lia felt Kirk leave
her side and before she could say goodbye she felt his presence behind her and a
large finger started to ease down her bare back, from her neck to the top of her
dress, only to slowly stroke back up. Breath stopped in her chest when she felt
him step even closer, his body resting flush against hers. Leaning over her
shoulder he gently nudged his nose against her ear and then took a quick nibble
from the lobe, bringing a gasp to her lips.
“Do you feel that?”
Stunned, she nodded her head. Who could miss it? His hard-on was massive and had inserted itself
right between her ass checks as if staking a claim.
“I have been sporting this
steely erection since our first sitting back in February. Do you know what a
pain it is walking around with my cock standing at attention whenever it catches
a whiff of you?”
“Oh please, each time we have
met there have been women ringing your mobile and another waiting outside for
you to take them to bed. There is no way you are in any discomfort.” Yes, she
was in lust; stupid and willing to fall for a womanizer’s flattering words was
a different matter.
“Nope. Well, they may have been
willing but I was not. I do not dally with fresh meat during the season. And Lia,
the last race has finished.”
“I see.” Not really because
her mind was wallowing in the morass of pleasure his presence behind her heaped
on her body with the press of his cock and his heated breath playing on her
neck.
“Do you? I have waited for this
event, planned your seduction, and designed the perfect way to get you into my
bed and how I would fuck you for the first time. Yes, first time because I will
need many, many hours between your legs to appease this beast of mine.” The
final statement was accompanied by a subtle readjustment.
Leaning in again he started to
kiss her neck where it met her shoulder. My
goodness, did he have to hone right in on her sweet spot?
“Ummm.”
“See, your body has already
acquiesced. Now for your mind.”
Moving his hands to her waist he
inched them under her arms, around and up, gently cupping her breasts.
“These beauties have haunted my
every fantasy. There are many things I desperately need to know about your
body.” Big thumbs stroked up and over each already excited, yet covered,
nipple. “But at the top of my list is to discover if your breasts are as
excitable as I think they are.”
Back and forth they strummed over
the points, bringing them further and further forward, poking through the draped
fabric.
“Yes,” Lia whispered on a
groan.
“Can I make you moan if I do
this?”
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