I stroked the canvas lovingly with one
final flourish, and then took a step backwards to gauge the finished product. I
signed the bottom right corner:
Clarissa Drayer.

Was it done? I stood alone in the studio
that my billionaire Will Garrett had provided for me; painting the piece he
commissioned me to paint. Had he truly believed in my ability as an artist, or
was it a ploy to fuck me? I still wasn’t sure; the only thing I was sure of was
that I had to commit myself one hundred percent to creating this piece. If not
for him, then for myself. I was going to prove myself as an artist no matter
what it took.

Surely I must be more than my
billionaire’s new toy.

I frowned, my eyes peeled, as I reviewed my
final brush stroke. The piece I was commissioned to create was to be a
landscape of Will Garrett’s estate, painted from the wall-sized window in the
studio attached to Will’s bedroom. Other than that, he had told me to let my
imagination run wild. And so I had, or at least I tried to. I felt my
uncertainty creeping up my spine again; my nerves and anxiety were the bane of
my existence. Will promised he would help me overcome them. We were a team now,
he said.

That’s right; me and my billionaire. We
were a team; I was more than just a pet for him. My mind briefly thought of the
last time we’d had sex, and I was tied to the bed spread eagle, and he fucked
my wet cunt with his extraordinarily perfect cock. Okay, I needed to calm down.
I was getting horny.

I placed my hand along the top of the
canvas, and felt a sudden urge to toss the piece on the ground. For some
reason, my first instinct upon creating a new piece was to immediately focus on
any and all flaws. Sometimes even imagining some. I did the same thing whenever
I looked in the mirror. My eyes were too big, and my hips were too
narrow. My breasts could be bigger.

And then I’d hear Will’s voice. “Not
everyone likes huge breasts, Clarissa,” he had said, his hands cupping my tits
from behind. And I would laugh and spin around.

I looked at my painting again, comparing
it to the view of the estate directly behind it; a projection of the scenery
I’d painted. I had certainly taken some liberties. I tried to portray the dreaminess
and inherent luxury of the land around my billionaire’s manse. The sky was soft
and licked the skyline; the grass was green but shining golden. I painted over
a sponged base in short soft strokes, creating a rippling effect.

I had told Will I’d be doing as much.

“I’ll paint the landscape as you asked,
but I’m going to show you your estate… the way that I see it,” I had said to
him, half covered in his sheets, naked in his bed.

“Is that so?” Will playfully asked, as he
sauntered over from his closet, holding his tie in his hand, bare from the
waist up. He crawled back into bed, leaving the tie on the ground behind him.
His muscular chest glowed radiantly in the morning light, and his blue grey
eyes were as piercing and gorgeous as ever.

“So I’ll be taking a few liberties,” I
giggled as he kissed my bare collar, moving his lips over my neck.

“Oh, what kind of liberties?” He
murmured, pushing my hair over my ear to nibble on my earlobe.

“I’m not sure yet. I never know until I
start a piece.”

“Hmmm, well I have faith in you, lovely
Clarissa,” he whispered as his hand found my breast.

“I like to think of myself as an
impressionist,” I replied with a crooked smile that collapsed upon his lips as
he kissed me.

“You’ve certainly made an impression upon
me.” He said, after biting my lip.

And now the painting was done.

But would Will be done with me now that
the commissioned piece was complete? I wanted to scrap the entire thing and
start again. I didn’t want to lose my connection to Will.

No, Clarissa.
I was being crazy again. I didn’t want
to think like that anymore. I wouldn’t think like that anymore.

I unslung the apron from my body.
Underneath, I wore one of Will’s tank tops and a loose pair of sweats. I was
determined to be comfortable while I worked, and I was. I held up the tank top
to my nose; Will’s cologne. It was just the right blend of aquatic and fresh;
sweet and summery, but not too saccharine. Whenever I smelled it, I was taken
back to that moment in Mademoiselle’s art gallery, when he first leaned over
behind me to steal a peak at my sketchbook. It felt like ages ago, but truly it
had only been a few weeks since that day. Yet so much had changed.

The last time I saw Mademoiselle I
informed her that I’d be taking a short leave of absence to fully commit to the
piece I was painting for Will Garrett (or Mr. Garrett as he was sometimes
called).

“Yes, of course dear,” she had said, her
voice brimming with fake sugar. “That sounds just wonderful for you.”

Mademoiselle was not the type to be upstaged
by one of her underlings. I was one of the only full-time employees she had, so
she would have to work extra hard in my absence or hire someone new to fill the
void. I tried to picture Mademoiselle sitting at my seat at the reception desk
in the front of the gallery, her heels clicking impatiently under the wooden
panel as she greeted clients. I smiled a bit. Good karma had come my way for
suffering for so long.

Yet I didn’t hate her, not truly. She had
worked hard all of her life, and was a successful business woman and an
important player in the local art scene. But she had never quite made it; not
the way I was making it. She resented me for that. She was never a kind woman,
but she was nothing if not a hard worker and ambitious.

I ran my hands down my sides as if to
wash them of my problems. I felt the slim contours of my body, and remembered I
wasn’t wearing a bra. It hadn’t been a big deal with the apron on, but now that
I was wearing only Will’s tank, I could clearly see the outline of my nipples.
I glanced at the cabinet at the side of the room.

When I had first been shown the studio, I
assumed the cabinet would be full of art supplies. I was wrong; and although
Will had since filled the room with everything I needed, the cabinet was full
of Will’s sex toys. A ton of fun things we’d use to play. I looked longingly at
the locked drawers; only Will held the key. “It’s playtime when I saw it’s
playtime,” I could almost hear him saying. He was always the boss. I smirked,
looking out the fully glass wall, thinking about my billionaire - always the
dominant alpha male.

Outside, the sun had begun to set,
casting an orange glare upon the estate. I watched the reflection of the sun
falling in the lake; I had almost wanted to set my landscape painting during
the nighttime or at sunset. The sprawl of forestry and open fields of the
Garrett estate looked majestic in the glow of the moonlight or the setting sun.
I decided that my next painting might take place in the darker hours here. I
wondered if I could do a whole series of paintings set in the estate; gosh, I
would never run out of things to paint in a place like this. The place was
already a damn work of art, from the marble columns to the black steeple roof
of the mansion; even the ultra-modernist glass-infused interior was a
spectacle. Everywhere you looked was white sandstone with black accent pieces,
and items made purely of glass.

I realized in that moment that I had
never seen the full house; a full tour would take a long time. Maybe there was
a room somewhere that was fully made of glass. From the walls, to the
decorations, to the furniture, to the light fixtures, and the door. Maybe we
could fuck in that room. I loved the house so much; I’d planned to be fucked in
every room. Although we rarely made it past the studio and the bedroom, as
things would be so intense. I thought about Will’s massive cock, and let my
hands explore my body. Was this my life now? Was I to live in an endless volley
of desire and pleasure? It seemed as if I could spend all day painting, and
then all night fucking. I could certainly get used to that.

I realized Will would return home from
work any moment. My self-doubts crept back. When he knew the painting was
finished, would our short relationship be over? Were we even in a relationship
at all?

“Clarissa,” Will said as he set down his
briefcase in the open concept entryway to the studio. The bedroom loomed behind
him, casting him in a sudden silhouette as he flicked the light on.

Chapter 2

“Oh, Will. You’re back,” I said tentatively,
my back to the glass window.

“Nice tank top, Cee.” He had started
calling me
Cee
recently, despite my chagrin at the nickname.

“Thanks, I picked it myself.” I slowly
walked towards him.

“Oh did you?” He said, matching my pace.

“Yeah, I think grey is my colour. What do
you think?”

“I think you’d look better with it off.
But that’s just me.”

We stood nose to nose. He kept his arms
at his hips, in a type of Superman pose.

“Well,” he said, “productive day for
you?”

“You could say that,” I said, shying
away.

“It’s done?” He asked, nodding his head
in the direction of the canvas; the middle of the studio.

“I’m not sure. Maybe. No. Well, kinda.” I
stammered. It was happening; the moment of truth. He would look upon my work
and decide my fate.

“Alright, Cee. May I?” He took a step
towards the canvas, and then looked at me.

Usually he would never ask my permission,
my commanding and demanding billionaire, but when it came to my art he knew the
limit.

“You may. Go ahead, Will.” I said.
Although I was always very open with my billionaire, I suddenly felt like the
old anxious Clarissa. “I hope you are pleased.”

“Clarissa… it’s…” He started.

In that moment I felt time freeze. I
watched the expression on his face; his eyebrows rose and his steel eyes
slightly widened, his pupils dilating ever so subtly. The chiseled lines of his
jaw clenched in a slight smile; the same quizzical grin he had once given me as
we met for the first time. The kind of grin I couldn’t decipher. The kind of
grin that had hooked me immediately. I was scared of what he’d say, but as long
as I had this one moment… I could survive. Damn it, my stupid feelings. Stupid
nerves. Stupid heart. Stupid Clar-

“It’s beyond perfect. It’s you.”

My heart stopped for a moment.

“It’s quite striking. I’d be proud to
place it in my home.”

“You know you don’t have to flatter me.
If something’s wrong with it, I can try again. Or you can get someone better to
paint it.”

“Clarissa. Don’t look down on yourself
like that. You’re a gifted artist, and this piece is everything I wanted.” He
took me by the hands, as I avoided his eyes. Damn those eyes.

“Okay… so, let’s say you love it. What’s
next for me? Am I done?” I asked, although I was scared of the answer.

“No, Cee. Of course not,” he said, squeezing
my hands. “Look at me. Look up.”

He tilted my chin up, so I had to look in
his eyes. Damn it. That always worked.

“So you didn’t just commission me to
sleep with me?”

Will laughed.

“Is that what you thought?” He asked.

I nodded solemnly.

“I commissioned you because I saw real
promise in your sketchbook. If I just wanted to sleep with you, do you think I
would have gone through this farce?”

I shook my head. I wasn’t sure what to
believe. I was careful to avoid his eyes again, because whenever I looked in
them I could be convinced of anything.

“Clarissa. You’ve known me for a few
weeks now, and you should know better than this.” He said matter-of-factly.
“You’re better than that, and I’m better than that.”

He was started to speak roughly, the
sweet tone in his voice fading like a dream, turning back into the bossy
billionaire I had come to know.

“I won’t have that kind of thinking or
that kind of attitude.” He said, lifting my head to force my eyes once more.
“You will be a better person. You are a better person.”

Was he right? Or was this part of his
game?

“What happens now then,” I asked. “The
pretense for my visits is gone. Will you invite me over just to fuck me now? Or
is this the last I’m going to see of you? “

Will let a quick laugh escape, as he
shook his head. “No, no, Cee.”

“Then what?”

“We’re going to take this one day at a
time. I won’t have things ruined by rushing them, my lovely Clarissa.”

“We aren’t rushing things.”

“We are actually, I think things are
being rushed, and so that’s how it is. I like to live in the moment, Cee. You
know that.” His words were not comforting. I knew what he wanted.

“So you want to boss me around then,” I
said, wriggling free from his grasp. “You want to fuck me?”

“Yes, I do.” He replied, and his expression
softened. “I’m sorry, Cee. It was… a stressful day at work. I greatly admire
the painting. And I’ve been holding back on telling you what is next, because
it was to be a surprise, my dear.”

“Bullshit.” I said, finding my nerve. If
he wanted to play rough, I’d play rough.

He smiled a coy grin.

“Cee… you’ll find the arrangements are
already made. And the invites are sent out. So if you are attempting to call my
bluff, you are mistaken.” Will said with an aura of cool confidence. He brushed
his slick sun-kissed brown hair back.

“Invites to what?”

“To a party. Right here on my estate, in
the gardens at the front.” He said with a smile showing off his straight white
teeth. There was not a damn thing out of place on this man.

“A garden party?” I asked as he piqued my
curiosity.

“An unveiling party.”

“Unveiling what?” I said as my heart
rose, and I felt the familiar lightness in my chest I had become accustomed to
as I spent more and more time with Will Garrett.

“Don’t play dumb. An unveiling party for
your piece. I want everyone to see. And you’re to be the guest of honor.” He
said, and then I realized the meaning of his slight grin. He was fighting back
a full smile.

“Will Garrett. You did all that for me?”
I said, my eyes shining with slight tears of joy forming.

“Yes,” he simply said. He was still
fighting back his smile.

“You can smile, you know. You don’t need
to be a tough guy all the time.”

He laughed for a moment, and as he did,
his smile flashed on his face like lightning. But just for a moment.

“Cee, I’m perfectly capable of expressing
and controlling my emotions. There’s no need to worry about me.”

Controlling was right, I thought to
myself with a smirk as he embraced him. I fell into his arms, and my head fell
into his chest. He cradled me and picked me up to spin me about the room like a
child.

“Will, I’m going to be dizzy!” I cried
out, between bursts of laughter.

As he set me down, he was laughing too.

The laughing turned into kissing, and his
hands were all over me. I found myself tossed on the ground. In an instant, my
tank top was off and Will had his mouth on my breasts and his hands found their
way to my mound, where my pubic hair was trimmed to a light bristle. He cupped
the front of my pussy, palming my clit, and rubbing it up and down. I writhed
from the pleasure, as his tongue danced about my nipples. Then he halted.

“Do you want a reward, Miss Drayer? For
all your good work?”

“Mhm,” I nodded. My nipples were erect
and wet from his tongue.

“We’re going to get ourselves ready for
the unveiling party. We’re going to shave together,” he said as he took me by
the hand and pulled me to my feet, my slight breasts bouncing as I stood.

“Shave? You want me to shave my vagina
for you?”

“Not that I have anything against a
lightly trimmed pussy, I’ve just decided that I want you hairless right now.”
He said with a smile. “Is that a problem?”

“It’s not a problem Will,” I replied.
Although I knew he was not really asking. His mind was already made.

“You’re going to shave my cock, and
you’re going to shave your pussy. Then you’re going to suck my hairless cock.”

That was more like it.

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