Masterpiece (The Masters of The Order Book 1) (16 page)

*****

The bustling café was thick with the cloying smell of cigarette smoke and coffee.

Jacques walked in with his usual nonchalant swagger. Looking at him, no one would ever guess the state he was in. A woman across the room called his name as he passed, but his mind was intent on finding Nico. In a big fucking hurry. When they spoke on the phone earlier, he heard something alarming in his cousin’s voice.

And if Nicolai’s phone call hadn’t troubled him enough, Darion’s nearly threw him into a full-blown panic.

Why couldn’t anything be easy? Now that Nico had a chance for real love, he’d be damned before he’d let anything screw it up, but he also believed Darion’s warnings.

Defy Xavier. Denounce the Order. Holy shit
.

A chill raced up his spine. He understood the power of the membership, especially their leader. Opposing them was suicide, yet Nico seemed intent on doing it.

Not happening, cousin mine.

Since they were kids, Jacques played the role of big brother. Nico was the sensitive one and Jacques always felt the need to protect him. The last time he heard Nico so broken up over a woman, he was fifteen. Nico lost his virginity and fell in love, only to discover that the object of his heart’s desire was on daddy’s payroll. And undoubtedly in his bed. Alexi laughed at his son’s naiveté. Jacques tried in vain to shelter his younger cousin from the pain and loneliness of his upbringing as one after another experience hardened him.

When he spied Nico sitting in the corner hunched over a drink, he released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. As he eased into a chair, a waitress appeared from nowhere. She eye fucked him as she handed him a menu.

Jacques briskly ordered an espresso; Nico, another Bloody Mary. Nico spelled out most of what happened by the time the waitress came back to take their food order. Jacques ordered eggs; Nico, another Bloody Mary. Nico talked while Jacques ate. By the end of the meal, Nico was stone drunk and Jacques was just plain scared.

Nico was powerless against Xavier. Hell, they all were, with the possible exception of Darion and he wasn’t making promises. For the moment, there was no point in pushing. Nico was shut down tight. Damn, this would be so much easier if Nico was a sub. Doms are pigheaded and keeping this pig from doing something colossally stupid was, well…Jacques was good. He wasn't that good. He decided to step away and think before he made a mistake that could cost his cousin dearly.

Perhaps time would bring reason to the situation.

Perhaps Darion would.

Jacques put a protective arm around Nico’s shoulder as they left the café.

*****

“Good morning, Genevieve.”

The voice was deceptively smooth, like fine wine. Xavier Talbot never raised his voice. He didn’t have to.

“Hello, Xavier.”

“You remember me, after all these years. I’m complimented. I expect you know the reason for my call.”

Shaking fingers clutched the wooden cross at her chest. “Yes, I do.”

“So tell me, fair lady. How was your little chat with Darion LeClair?”

13

Silk Ribbon and Responsibility

The gallery was still and dark.

A lone reading lamp burned in Nicolai’s office. Fat puddles of spring rain glistened under the street lamps outside. Only the sound of an occasional car cutting through the pools interrupted the yawning silence. Nicolai sat alone, visiting the ghosts of Julianne’s past.

He opened the journal on his desk and read his own words:

Give me your past, Beauty, and we will begin our future. Guide me with your secrets. I want your trust. I want your love. Be brave for me and write everything that you have endured. I will not judge. I want only to understand. Yours, Nicolai.

Julianne couldn’t handle exposing all her secrets to him face to face. He knew that. His quiet muse was too scarred and far too conditioned to silence. He’d seen the weight of her past crush her twice already. She traveled a hard road coming to him and they would move forward together. But first, they had to look back.

He asked her to write her memories and her words filled the entire journal. She hadn’t simply thrown a bunch of facts and old stories onto a page. She painted a picture of herself with brutal and humbling honesty. He studied every word. Every nuance. Even the handwriting.

Ever the artist, Julianne peppered her story with visual cues, her script exposing the emotion underlying the words. Smaller when she was scared. Lighter when she was ashamed. Larger and heavier when she was angry. Neat when she was indifferent. The pages where her tears crinkled the paper and smeared the ink cut him to the quick. They were the hardest. And the most important. He read those pages twice.

As he forged on through the night, lost in the tragedy of Julianne’s story, he gained a new perspective on himself. He’d lived a hedonistic life. Had everything a man could ever imagine having, in every imaginable way, but he was empty. He’d never cared for another person. Never put another person’s needs before his own. Never trusted enough to love or to ask for love in return.

This woman changed all of that.

He couldn’t stomach the notion that his talented apprentice had been so repressed. That his muse had been made to suffer until she accepted something as abhorrent to an artist’s soul as blind obedience. That her freedom to determine her own future had been compromised.

Freedom to determine the future. You are whatever you aspire to become.

Nicolai was beginning to understand.

He uttered into the silence, “Nobody’s perfect, Julianne. I’m certainly not. I know I’m not worthy, but for you, I will forgive my past. I will let my doubts go and try to become the man you need me to be."

As he closed the journal, the sun was rising.

*****

Julianne hung up the phone.

A special surprise, Nicolai? Well, I have a little surprise for you too.

Nicolai’s words replayed in her mind, over and over, as she walked to the gallery.

Give me your past, Beauty.

Two words sprung to mind when she read that. Hell and no. Revealing your ugliest secrets to someone whose love you want to win seemed so risky. But it wasn’t a request. Nicolai expected obedience even when what he asked was difficult. Especially when it was difficult.

Be brave for me.

Those words had to be the understatement of the decade. Writing that journal took Herculean courage. Yet somehow, she had done it. Once she started writing, she couldn’t stop. She exposed herself completely. Purged every damn secret. Now that it was finished, she marveled at her own strength. Giving her past to Nicolai was empowering.

When she stepped through the doors, Nicolai rose to greet her. So sophisticated. So self-assured. So damn beautiful. His meticulous suit flowed along the elegant lines of his body as he moved, the fine clothing only adding to his air of authority. It was expensive and worth every cent. The mere sight of him sent a niggling doubt straight through her and her feet froze on the threshold.

Has my honesty changed his mind?

His clear eyes promised that it hadn’t. Everything about Nicolai’s look said he adored her, but a huge part her still couldn’t fathom why. Then he cupped her chin and kissed her. A slow, lingering kiss that warmed all the way to the toes. A kiss that said,
read my lips, Julianne. I adore, adore, adore you
.

He kissed her and kissed her some more, if you could actually call what he was doing kissing. He was making love to her mouth. Tasting, exploring, savoring her as if she was an oasis for a parched man. When he released her, her bones were putty.

Ooohhh, the man knows how to kiss.

“Thank you for your trust,” he breathed against her mouth without releasing her face, then grinned when all she could manage in reply was a soft mewling sound.

“Come with me to our studio,” he said.

Our studio?

He took her by the hand to lead her downstairs and she floated behind him. She would ask him what that comment meant later. For now, he could take her anywhere if he would just kiss her like that again.

At the bottom of the stairs, she hesitated. Nicolai hadn’t said anything, but he obviously planned a photography session for today. The studio was virtually empty, except for his camera and a small dais that was covered by a satin pillow and surrounded by several lighting umbrellas in the middle of the floor.

Anticipating her question before she asked it, he turned with a devilish sparkle in his eyes and said, “You. I am going to bind and photograph you.” His voice was as smooth as the satin on the pillow, easy and undeniable.

“We don’t know what our future holds, Julianne. All we can do is trust in one another. This experience is about building trust. It is meant to show you that if you entrust yourself to me, I will not harm you. I will only cherish you.”

Beautiful words from a beautiful man
. “I trust you, Nicolai.”

He smiled a humble smile and said, “
Merci
.” Then his face filled with confidence. “If at any time you become overwhelmed, tell me to stop and it ends.” With no expectation of a reply, he turned her in his arms to face him. “Arms up.”

Without having time to think, she mechanically raised her arms and he slid her cashmere sweater over her head. He reached down to release the zipper at the side of her skirt and her stomach knotted. She was naked underneath save for thigh high stockings and a garter.

The skirt fluttered to her feet. Nicolai crouched and tapped one foot with a finger, telling her to lift it away, then the other. His eyes locked on her body as she stepped aside.

“Surprise.” She smiled at him.

His mouth was so close. She could feel his warm breath on her belly. “Very nice, my sexy ingénue. You've inspired me.”

Unabashed appreciation glowed on his face as he traced a finger down the garter and along the top of her stockings. One hand landed on her bottom and the other…
Mon Dieu
.
Nicolai knows how to touch a woman
. Every nerve ending between her legs lit up in anticipation of what came next.

But he stopped before it did and she nearly doubled over.

Why?

The satisfaction in his eyes answered her unspoken question and it aroused more than his expertise. “You understand, my Beauty,” he said.

Her whole body responded. “
Oui
."

He left her standing in her bra and heels for what seemed like an eternity while he folded her clothing and set it on the stairs. Her eyes followed him across the room. Part of her thought she should be more afraid, but after exposing her most intimate secrets to this man, exposing herself physically seemed, well, somehow less.

When he returned, he caressed her shoulders before hooking a finger under each lacy strap of her bra to guide them down. His thumbs arched into the downy swell made accessible by the loosened lingerie and a deft finger popped the clasp with a single flick.

Unlike her, Nicolai was no novice. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Discomfort mingled with desire as he stripped her bare. She wasn’t shy, in fact she liked the sight of her naked body, but the menacing voice of memory whispered,
improper
. To stay in the moment, she focused on the gold cufflink glinting at Nicolai’s wrist as his knuckles skimmed light circles around her nipple. It stood taut as if begging for his direct touch, which was, for now, denied.

“You are even more beautiful than I imagined.”

Nicolai let one hand trial over the flat of her belly while the other played on the outside of her thigh between the garter and the lace top of her stockings.

The voice got louder.
Immodest
. She folded her arms up to shield herself and Nicolai’s hands shot forward to grip her wrists in an abrupt, startling motion.

“You will never hide from me again. You are a beautiful woman with a beautiful body. Display yourself proudly.”

The sharp reprimand silenced the voice and a forbidden thrill shot through her as she placed herself into Nicolai’s care.

His tenderness returned as he lifted her by the waist and set her onto her knees. A silk ribbon emerged from his pocket. He held the soft fabric up for her to see before beginning to brush it over her shoulders, down her arms, across her breasts and belly. He circled the long length around her body several times, let it run over her skin as he pulled it away. Teasing her with the slow velvety strokes. Sparking her imagination. Making her want things she shouldn’t.

Nicolai reached under her bottom to thread the silk between her thighs. So unabashedly decadent and unapologetic, he pulled it tight between her soft folds and began driving it back and forth over her sex, all the while looking into her eyes with a piercing acknowledgement of what he was doing to her.

“There’s only you and I, Julianne. No one else. Your desire is mine. Surrender to it."

It was a command. One that was too easy to obey. She lifted up slightly, let her backside protrude, and
voilà
. The ribbon danced over the perfect spot. The silk became warm and saturated, but once again, Nicolai stopped just as she was poised to explode. It was all she could do not to go limp under the weight of her stunted arousal.

When he lifted the ribbon to his nose and inhaled, her teeth sank into her bottom lip.

Nicolai raised a finger to free her lip and said around a wolfish grin, “Don't move." He leaned in, holding her eyes, and sucked her lip between his teeth. She felt the sting between her legs as if that wicked ribbon was still at work. Before letting go, he wrapped his arms around her to bring her hands to the small of her back and pressed her palms together.

Without releasing teeth, he growled, "Mine," and her entire being melted with being desired by a man like him.

"Yours," she whispered back and his cerulean eyes smiled.

He moved behind her, took both wrists in one steadying hand and began to tie her. The silky strand circled around the left wrist, then the right. He crisscrossed the ribbon over her back, tugging to move her arms closer together as the wrapping progressed toward her shoulders. His talented hands were firm and sure. Wonderful sensations shimmered from every point of contact.

Her artist was completely absorbed in her, so concentrated on the manipulation of her body, that all else seemed to fade from his consciousness. He worked slowly, weaving an intricate pattern between her limbs. So precise as he placed the ribbon, his fingers following its path with attention to each detail as he tied her. His warm breath fell over her hair. So close, but his body didn’t touch her. Only his hands and the ribbon as inch by inch, he created his art on her body. To be the focus of his artistry was an honor.

Despite the vulnerability, the care in Nicolai’s actions made her feel safe. She concentrated on holding her position and puzzled over her reaction to this strange experience. It felt surprisingly natural. Rather than fight Nicolai’s dominance, she thrilled to it. They hadn’t even made love, yet he enveloped her mind so thoroughly in their sexual relationship that she was able to give her body to him without hesitation. Naked, on her knees, in binds and she felt as if she was where she was always meant to be.

When Nicolai finished, he stepped around her and rested his hands on her bent knees. She started to look up, wanting to see his eyes, wanting to drown in their blue depths.

“Eyes down,” he said firmly.

Her gaze dropped. In this position, she could only see below his waist and found herself once again absorbed by the beauty of Nicolai’s hands. Talented hands. Decadent hands. By far the most decadent part of this decadent man. A pulse of wetness trickled out of her as she remembered the day they met. The thought of those hands drifting over her skin had excited her then, but, oh, how much more it excited her now.

Nicolai coaxed her legs open. The cool air hit her wet folds and the involuntary arch of her back sent her breasts jutting forward. His hands slid higher along the insides of her thighs to push her legs farther apart, the delicate skin simmering hot beneath his fingertips. She knew he could see her arousal with her legs open so wide and had to bite her lip again to keep from begging for a more intimate touch.