Sasha's Portrait Page 7

  “I have an appointment in Virginia at the end of next week; and, after that, I’m expected back in Florida. I have several very large commissions I need to work on.” His home in West Palm Beach was very secluded, very private, and it was where he did the majority of his work.

  Sasha smiled at him, hoping he didn’t notice how disappointed she was that she had less time with him than she had thought. “I hope you’ll keep my gallery in mind when you’ve finished them.”

  She started to turn away, but his hand gripped her chin, turning her to face him. “I want you to come with me. Spend a few weeks with me on the road. I want to get to know you better.”

  Sasha’s heart stuttered, stopped, and then sped up. The famous, renowned artist and Dom wanted to spend more time with HER, a little nobody who lived alone on a small island, and who, before his arrival, had had only one brief affair in her life?!

  Incredulously, she asked, “Why?”

  Derrick laughed at her shocked, disbelieving expression, and blunt return. “Because I like you. I like being with you. I like spanking you and making you come, and I love fucking you.”

  Sasha’s face warmed at his declaration, but she could detect nothing but sincerity in his face. “But, you could have anybody, and I told you, I’m not interested in becoming your sub.”

  “Do you realize, baby, that the more you submit to me the more you protest that you’re not going to do it?”

  She was about to vehemently deny it but then realized that he was right. Damn, the man was astute. Then again, he had had years of practice.

  Derrick laid his fingers across her mouth, stopping her reply. “Don’t say anything; just think about it over the next few days. I plan on flying to the mainland then renting a car and taking my time driving down the coast. I’d like to take you with me, show you New York, introduce you to more pleasures you’ve only read about. I want to give you the chance to explore your sexuality to the hilt and experience pleasures you never dreamed of. Two more weeks, Sasha. That’s all I’m asking. When we get to Florida, and you’re ready, I’ll buy you a first class ticket, put you on a plane, and you can return to your little island with a wealth of memories to keep you warm through the long, cold winter.”

  They were quiet as they returned to shore, each engrossed in their own thoughts. Derrick was hoping she was seriously thinking about leaving with him, not realizing how badly he wanted her to until he had proposed the idea to her.

  Sasha was contemplating how badly she wanted to take off with him, spend more time in his bed, learn more about the pleasures she had been missing out on. Her buttocks were sore, her anus throbbed, and her pussy was wet and swollen, again. She loved the after effects of their altercations, loved the way her body felt sore and used and needy all at the same time. She knew about his lifestyle and could guess what he had in store for her. The question was, was she brave enough to follow him blindly down a road that she had no idea where or how it ended? And if she didn’t, would she regret turning down this once in a lifetime opportunity?

  Derrick dropped her at her house and then took off to confirm his flight and arrange for a car to be ready for him in a few days. Sasha showered and then padded naked to the room she used as her own personal studio. Late afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows warming her as she sat at her easel. She had been working on this particular landscape for two months and was nearly finished.

  As she sat quietly, she was reminded of her life before Derrick had landed on her doorstep. It had consisted of quiet days and even quieter nights. Her time occupied with catering to others artistic talents and reading about adventures she was sure would never come her way. She had been content, if not happy. She had friends; she dated occasionally, and she had her art. It wasn’t until Derrick had opened up a whole new world for her that she realized how lacking her life actually was.

  After only a few days of his overwhelming presence, his dominating tendencies and erotic control, she knew she’d never be satisfied returning to her former ways. He was right; she was playing at her art instead of pursuing it; she read about fantasies instead of seeking to fulfill them; she let life slide by instead of embracing her opportunities. As her hand flew over her canvas, putting on finishing touches with an ease she had been sorely lacking of late, she made up her mind. She would call John tonight and ask him if he would mind the gallery for a few weeks while she took a much needed vacation. He had told her when she bought him out that he’d be happy to fill in for her whenever she needed him to.

  Her hand shook, and she broke out into a nervous sweat as she contemplated her decision. She could easily fall in love with Derrick as she was sure many had. That would be a colossal mistake. A man like Derrick did not fall in love. He moved from one woman to another as easily as he clicked his camera from pose to pose. As long as she kept her heart closed and took the pleasures he was offering her, she thought she could return home in a few weeks with enough memories to last her a lifetime.

  Derrick stood in the doorway watching Sasha finish a magnificent watercolor filled with vibrant colors and knew she had decided to accompany him. She was completely naked and comfortable with her nudity. That she continued to obey his instructions told him all he needed to know. The vastness of the relief that swept through him was unsettling and out of character, but he refused to dwell on the reasons for it. He would take his time with her, one day at a time; and maybe, at the end of their journey, when they parted ways, he would have a reason to return to Nantucket periodically.

  Sasha jumped when Derrick leaned over and cupped her breasts, his grey eyes scrutinizing her work. “That’s lovely. You should show it in your gallery.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t,” she protested breathlessly. His warm breath and busy hands brought an instant rush of moisture between her legs. Damn, she thought, she just couldn’t seem to get enough of him.

  “A few days ago, you would’ve said the same thing had I asked you then to leave with me. But, you’re going to do it, aren’t you, Sasha?”

  “Yes.” Her whispered reply held uncertainty and excitement.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised if I saw an assortment of your work hanging for sale six months from now.”

  “You have that much confidence in me?”

  “No, in myself.”

  Derrick refused to let Sasha pack any clothes for their trip a few days later. “They’re too ugly,” he stated baldly. “I’m going to buy you a new wardrobe when we get to New York. A pair of jeans and top to wear until we get there is all you need other than your toiletries.”

  Sasha thought of arguing as they discussed their trip over leftover chicken for dinner. She could take a charge card for an emergency but no cash. He was paying her way entirely, including clothes. “I’m not comfortable being so dependent on you financially, Derrick. I’ll be a long ways from home. What if I want to come back early?”

  “I told you,” he replied patiently, “I’ll put you on a plane myself when you’re ready. You have my word. Now, quit worrying. I’m used to being in control; it’s they way I want it, and the way I live my life. If you go with me, you’ll have to adjust to my way. Besides, it’s only for a few weeks. When you return, you can start wearing your baggy, drab clothes again, painting quietly in private and masturbating to your books.”

  She glared at him defiantly. “Fine. But it’ll cost you, and I won’t feel guilty.”

  Derrick smiled having gotten the reaction he wanted. “Honey, I can afford it.”

  Chapter Seven

  They flew on a small chartered flight to Boston. A brand new Trailblazer decked out with everything from a small cooler to a sunroof was waiting for them. Like Derrick said, he could afford the best. They stopped at a large gallery vying for Derrick’s work first. While he negotiated the terms with the proprietor, Sasha wandered around the various rooms and admired paintings that dated as far back as the 1700’s. The caliber of work, the sheer magnitude of their magnificence, left her breathless. She was just won
dering where Derrick’s art could possibly fit in among such refined, staid pieces when she entered a room that reeked erotica.

  Life size nudes dating back centuries hung on the walls. Sculptures and bronze art depicting men and women in various stages of undress and coupling sat in corners and on pedestals. She could definitely see Derrick’s work in here, a modern version of eroticism that would lend imagination to the tamer, older works.

  “Ready?” Derrick asked, wrapping his arms around her from behind and nuzzling her neck.

  “Mmm,” she purred, leaning into him. He had fucked her early this morning before they left the island, giving her three climaxes to get through the day. It wasn’t enough. She wanted him again. “How was your meeting?”

  Taking her hand, he led her out of the gallery. “Successful. Let’s stop at an outdoor café for lunch before we get on the road. It’s only about four hours to New York, but I’ve got directions to take the back roads. It’ll take us about an hour longer, but the trees are starting to turn, and it should be a beautiful drive.” He grinned down at her as he opened the car door and helped her in. “Especially with you by my side.”

  Sasha smiled back, wondering what he was up to. He had been very solicitous of her since they departed the island. For the past several days, he had literally taken over her life, trying to control her every move from what to wear to when she could orgasm. He hadn’t completely succeeded, but his dominating, take control attitude had never wavered. Until now. She couldn’t help but think he was softening her up for what was to come.

  “Why the wary look, Sasha?” Sliding behind the steering wheel, he turned to face her, waiting patiently for her answer. He knew he had her on edge about his abrupt change of manner, but he wondered if she knew the reason for it.

  “You’re behaving…..differently.”

  “Don’t worry, it won’t last. I’ll be back to my overbearing, dominating self soon.”

  Sasha was relieved. She knew where she stood with the real Derrick. Two hours later, they pulled into a small gas station in an even smaller, quaint town. Derrick had been right, the countryside was gorgeous, and he had stopped frequently so she could snap pictures that she could use for future paintings. She got out to use the restroom; and, when she returned, Derrick was still in the office.

  The day was warm, and she was beginning to wish she had worn a skirt instead of tight jeans and a short sleeved button up sweater. The problem was Derrick had been right. Her wardrobe was sorely lacking in anything feminine or sexy. A pair of tight jeans was about as risqué as she got.

  “I picked up a nail in one of the tires. It’ll take about thirty minutes to either patch it or replace the tire,” Derrick said as he came out of the office. “We can wait inside while they work on it.”

  The garage was smelly and dirty, but blessedly cool as Derrick led her to an old couch set against the wall and pulled her onto his lap. “That console keeps you too far away from me,” he said as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her head down for a deep, wet kiss.

  Sasha kissed him back with enthusiasm, her pussy quickly dampening with need. She had it bad, she thought. She couldn’t even kiss him without getting wet. His mustache tickled her lips, and she loved the feel of the long bristles against her face. The two mechanics were raising the Blazer, and Sasha assumed they were ignoring them as she cuddled with Derrick, her lips and tongue busily mating with his.

  When his hand deftly undid several buttons on her sweater and quickly slid inside, she gasped in shock and pleasure as he cupped her breast. “Derrick,” she moaned against his mouth as he unhooked the front clasp of her bra, and his hand connected with naked flesh.

  “Mmm?”

  “What if they see?” She remembered the additional rush of having an audience when they were on the boat and was ashamed to admit the very idea had her getting even wetter.

  “So, what if they do? You have beautiful breasts. I’ll be showing them off frequently to others as we travel. You’ll have to get used to it.”

  His tone was soft, commanding, and brooked no argument for which she was grateful. This was the Derrick she had come to know, the one she was comfortable obeying because she knew he would take care of her. He took the decisions from her, easing her guilt, leaving her free to indulge wantonly.

  She didn’t reply, letting her silence speak for itself. She didn’t protest when he spread her sweater and bra wide, freeing her breasts for all three of their gazes. Sasha buried her burning face in his neck as he fondled her breasts; his fingers pulling tautly on the nipples to the point of pain.

  Gasping, she shifted on his lap, trying to ease the growing ache in her cunt. Cupping her right breast, he brought it up to meet his descending mouth. Lips and teeth latched on to her distended tip, pulling, tugging, and licking the tender bud before moving on to the other one. His mustached tickled her, his teeth nipped at her, and his tongue soothed her.

  “They’re watching,” he said as he lifted from tormenting her sensitive flesh. “Look at your nipples, Sasha.”

  Sasha looked down. Her nipples were red and stiff, pointing straight out in tight peaks.

  “Tell me something,” he said as he moved his hand down her chest to her jeans. Slowly, his eyes on hers, he unsnapped her jeans and slowly lowered the zipper. “Are you as wet as your nipples are hard?”

  Sasha swallowed loudly, her gaze riveted on his hand resting in the opening of her pants. “More,” she admitted shakily, wondering if he really would go through with his intent. When they were on the boat, she had the comfort of knowing her audience was a long way off; and, even with the aid of binoculars, they probably couldn’t see anything as clearly as the two mechanics who were only a few yards away. Though the sounds in the garage were proof they were working on the car, she had no doubt they were eyeing her nudity as often as possible.

  “I better see about scooping some of that up. We wouldn’t want you to sit in wet panties for the rest of the afternoon, would we?”

  Somehow she knew he required a response. “No.”

  Sasha whimpered in mortified pleasure as his hand slid into her jeans; his fingers sliding easily through her damp folds. Two long digits penetrated her pussy, the syrupy sound of her copious juices clearly heard. Sasha threw her head back and bit her lip to stifle a moan as his thumb came in contact with her clit.

  “You like having an audience, Sasha. Your body doesn’t lie. You’re so wet; your cream is soaking my hand. Feed me your nipple.”

  “What!”

  “Cup your left breast and offer your nipple up for my mouth. Show them how badly you want me to suck your tits and finger-fuck your cunt.”

  Sasha cupped her breast and lifted it towards his descending mouth. She continued to hold her breast out for him as he sucked her in rhythm with his pumping fingers. She didn’t wait for his instructions as he moved to her other breast. Cupping her flesh, she pushed it towards the center, making it easier for him to get to her nipple. Again, the strong pull of his mouth on her sensitive tip matched the slow, purposeful thrusting of his fingers.

  His thumb pressed tightly on her clit as he lifted his head from her nipple. “Do not come. I mean it, Sasha. I will be very displeased with you if you do.”

  Sasha barely heard his words and heeded them even less. Not come? He was crazy if he thought she had the willpower to stop the onslaught of sensations getting ready to burst upon her. Her hips arched into his hand, a light sheen of perspiration coated her skin, and her breath came in panting gasps as she exploded into a million fragmented pieces. Her pussy gripped his fingers tightly as her slippery walls convulsed around him.

  Sasha’s face brightened as she came to her senses, realizing the display she must have made. She looked at Derrick as he slowly pulled his hand from her pants. He was glaring at her, and she knew she was in for more exhibitionism in the form of punishment.

  “You didn’t even try to hold back, did you?”

  It would’ve been futile to lie. “I
couldn’t. I don’t understand why you want me to. If you didn’t want me to come, why did you touch me?”

  “I want you to because I want total control over you. You know enough about my lifestyle to know that. I also know your pleasure would be doubled if you could learn to wait until given permission. I’ve been at this a long time. I know what I’m doing.”

  Sasha sighed. She had read enough about submission to know that, but that still didn’t mean she was ready or willing to turn complete control over to him. “All I can say is that I’ll try harder.”

  “Yes, you will,” he stated implacably. “And a good hard spanking will help ensure that. Over my lap. Now.”

  Sasha was upset enough over disappointing him and honest enough to admit she wanted, needed this that she obeyed him without qualm. One of her favorite fantasies had always been to be spanked in front of an audience. She was about to find out if the fantasy was as good as reality.

  “Jeans down.”

  The way he always made her bare her ass was not lost on her. She realized by lowering her pants herself, baring her buttocks for whatever abuse he wished to heap upon them, she was confirming her willing acceptance of his punishment. Her jeans were tight, and it was difficult reaching behind her and pushing them down without rising.

  “To the knees,” he instructed when she stopped just below her buttocks.

  As if her predicament wasn’t embarrassing enough, the struggle to lower her pants made her hips wiggle and move provocatively, adding to her mortification and, she was sure, their delight.

  Derrick rested his hand on her right buttock. She had a great ass, round and firm and white. It reddened beautifully as he was about to show the two young mechanics. He had greased their palms generously after explaining he was teaching his new girlfriend the art of submission. They had agreed that, in exchange for letting them watch, they wouldn’t call the police on their public display.

  “How much longer, guys?” Derrick called out, his hand rubbing lightly over her exposed buttocks.