The Clever Fox: Part Two (The Pleasure Hound Series) (3 page)

“Stay away from my husband.” He walked away.
 

She didn’t know his name, so she couldn’t call out to him. She scurried after him and grabbed his arm. The corded muscles of the strong bicep pulsated under her fingers. He stopped, stiffened, at her touch.

“I’ll make a deal with you.” She heard the desperation in her own voice, felt her body being shoved back into the cocoon, felt her fingers suffocating.

He yanked his arm away from her.

Alyss reached into her bag. She pulled out the printed report from her Mother. His eyes widened seeing the title of the document. She knew he didn’t have access to this information. “It’s yours…”

He reached his hand towards it.

She withdrew the document at the last second. “As long as you let me see Adom.”

He put his hand away.

She placed the document between them like an offering. “If this bill is as important to you as you say it is, then the information in this report will be of great value to you. The price is a few more hours with Adom. A few colors on a canvas.”

He studied her. “Why? Why do you want to sit for my husband?”

How could she explain how Adom’s art made her feel alive? How his ropes took all the pressure away? Alyss needed it, or she would suffocate. All around her her skin was cracking and something was trying to break free from her soul. She couldn’t stop it.

“Do we have a deal?”

Chapter Two

Adom put the final brush stroke on the painting and sat back. Though white washed of its erotic foundations, the piece was marvelous: the Goddess giving birth to the sun. Adom felt the need to bow down to the canvas.

There was no evidence of the suspension rig used to capture his muse in the perfect pose. Instead of beige twine wrapped at her wrists, green vines ensnared the arms of the woman in the painting. The woman in the painting had a different skin hue than his muse. Her breasts were smaller than what Adom could spy beneath Alyss’ clothing. Her waist was narrower and her hips were drawn with more flare. But it was the expression on her face that relayed the truth of her identity.

Alyss had been enraptured when he’d roped and suspended her. Adom had known she would be, likely from the first day he’d seen her at Jian’s home when she’d instructed him on the colors of his paintings. In his experience, bossy women craved domination. Not to put them down or make them feel weak. Bondage and suspension worked to free the individual at their deepest level. Back then, at Jian’s, it was as though Alyss’ soul had called to him and begged him to free her from her stifling cage, from the burdens laid on her shoulders.

For months, the only release Adom could give her was in the way he painted her. But the other night, with each loop he made around her wrists, with every tug of the rope, he’d freed her. If only for a short time.

He knew she needed more, craved it. He’d seen it in her eyes. He’d captured it in his work. Her face was at the same time slack and firm. Her head tilted to reveal her soul-centeredness. Her eyes closed to reveal her spirit’s openness. Sensations bubbled in Adom’s chest at the memory of the feel of her hands as he released her, the disappointment in her eyes when her weight returned to her, the eagerness beneath her lashes, the hope that came out on her breath. She needed more and Adom wanted to give it to her.

His eyes rose to her hands in the painting. They were suspended above her head, wrists constricted, fingers falling free from the tension. The sight of Alyss’ suspended hands even now made his dick hard. Adom looked away from the painting. Even if he were ever allowed to paint her, or bind her again, sex could never be a part of the equation. Not with his proclivities.

His hands itched, his heart ached that he couldn’t give her what she needed. But it was now impossible. He would not betray Emet. Emet, who Adom loved with every bit of his heart, was his world.

Adom stood and prepared to move the painting aside. His memory and imagination would have to serve him from here on out. A sound at the door to his studio had him turning.

In the door stood Emet. Before Emet stood Alyss. Her eyes were rapt to the painting in his hands. She stepped forward, arms stretching out. Her breaths were heavy. Moisture pricked the edges of her eyes. She reached her hand out but pulled away before her fingertips met the canvas. She looked up at Adom. Her mouth worked, but no words escaped. They didn’t need to. Adom felt the same way about their work. And it was their work. He could not have done this without her.

But why was she here now? With Emet?

Adom had barred the storefront door and hid in his studio like a coward, uncertain if he could turn her away when she came to him. It could only have been Emet who let her in.

But why?

Behind Alyss, Emet cleared his throat. Adom tore his eyes away from his muse and focused on his bondmate. There was censure written across his features.

“Lady Alyss and I have come to an agreement.”
 

Adom’s heartbeat picked up, keeping a steady rhythm so that his ears missed none of Emet’s words.

“She may sit for you again.”

Adom looked down to Alyss who beamed with pure joy. Her eyes looked around the room, hungry. They touched on the blank canvases, the paint, the pencils. The rig.

Adom wasn’t beaming, not yet. He knew his mate. That wasn’t the end of his statement on this arrangement. There would be a condition, and Adom suspected that neither he nor Alyss would like it.

“If she is to sit for you,” Emet continued. “I insist on being in the room.”

That caught Alyss’ attention. She turned back to him. “You didn’t say that before.”

“I’m saying it now.”

“But why?”

Emet’s eyes went to Adom. Emet wasn’t about to tell Lady Alyss why. Emet and Adom never spoke of the reason Adom kept his distance from women.

“I’m not only his mate, I’m his advocate. If he displeased you, you could take your complaint to the Peace Keepers, and he’d be thrown in jail.”

Adom looked away from the memories playing across Emet’s brown gaze, memories of Adom at the mercy of a panicked young woman and her shrewd Mother.

“I would never do such a thing,” Alyss insisted. “I would never do anything to hurt Adom or his work.”

“Yet, tomorrow afternoon you’ll be fighting to end one of his basic rights.”

Alyss ground her teeth.

Emet closed the door and took a seat beside the door frame. He made a motion to Adom to proceed. Lady Alyss turned her back on Emet, shutting him out of her vision. Anger still crinkled the edges of her eyes and pinched her heart-shaped mouth. She took a deep breath and released it. When she opened her eyes, the golden-brown was already churning bright.

“How do you want me?” she said to Adom.

With one final look of gratitude at Emet, Adom turned to his muse. He looked her up and down. There were so many ideas and visions vying for his attention.

Her dress today was a movement of orange, black and white. It fluttered around her like a bird, or a butterfly. Her body sat in the center as though she were a flower, a lotus. The lotus blossom was a sexual image; a representation of a woman’s sacred flower. Adom had a vision of Lady Alyss awakening in the petals of a blossom.

He pulled a chair before his easel. “Will you have a seat, my lady?”

Alyss sent a disappointed glance towards the rig before trudging to the proffered seat.

Adom’s mouth quirked. He knew he hadn’t imagined that she wanted the bindings. That look just then was proof positive. He sent his smile over his shoulder, but Adom was met with a frown from his bondmate. But Emet refused to acknowledge the unspoken message.

Adom sighed and put his back to his lover. He knelt down before Lady Alyss. Her breath caught when their gazes met. Adom sat back on his haunches placing his face in alignment with her core. He held her gaze for a moment, searching her depths, trying to see how far he could take her today. He saw a clear path to the destination he wanted in her golden eyes, but he reached for her foot instead.

He undid the ties on her boot, frowning at the lack of symmetry between the laces. He slid the boot free and positioned her leg on the outside of the chair leg. Then he did the same with the other boot, foot, and leg. When he was done, Lady Alyss sat spread eagle in the chair. Her dress obstructed his view of her blossom, but Adom was a patient man. When he made love to Emet, and in the past the women under his tutelage, orgasm was only a destination. Adom most enjoyed the journey and the explorations of the path. He liked to venture both high and low, taking his companion along for a long ride.

Adom rose and went to his rope collection. He selected a hemp rope. The material was a bit coarser than the one he’d used on Lady Alyss the previous night. He wanted her to feel the bite today.

Adom returned to Lady Alyss. Standing over top of her from behind the chair, he looked down and saw her breasts heaving in pants. She was both excited and aroused. She sucked in a shuddery breath when Adom gathered her forearms behind her back.

He draped her arms over the chair’s back and bound her. Before he finished, Alyss’ head was already dropping back in rope ecstasy. Adom chanced a glance at Emet. The male was leaning forward in his chair, his eyes rapt on Alyss.

When Emet caught Adom staring, he sat back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest and looked into the corner.

Adom walked the short path back to his easel, eager for this journey to get underway, in no hurry to get to the end.

Chapter Three

Emet gathered his papers and slapped the edges of the stack down onto the desk until they all aligned into a neat square bundle. After the morning session of watching Adom sketch the beginning of a painting of Lady Alyss, Emet had returned to work. He would not allow the sight of her painted toes and delicate ankles to deter him from his mission to right the scales of justice for all man-kind.

They were adversaries, he and Lady Alyss, and he would be mindful to remember that. Not the look of ecstasy on her face from the sound of Adom’s pencil scratches. Not the flush on her breasts from the rope bliss. He now admitted she wasn’t playing a game. At least not with Adom. Emet saw, that like him, the ropes called to Alyss.

The three of them had braked for a few hours so that Alyss could rest from the pull of the ropes and Emet could work. They’d agreed to meet back in the studio at day’s end.

“Headed out?”

The Male Voice poked his head inside Emet’s cubicle. The offices were empty of all other males. All the advocates were older males, second sons from prominent families. Emet was the youngest advocate and the only one who had worked another occupation. It had taken awhile for the other males to warm up to him. In time they saw that Emet was both knowledgeable and dedicated to the work. Trust bloomed easily afterwards and Emet counted many of the males in the office as friends.

“You have a big day tomorrow,” said the Voice. “Is there anything you want to discuss?”

“No, I have everything I need.”

“We’re a team here, Emet. No one’s expecting you to shoulder all the burden. Ask for help if you need it.”

Emet saw a hint of worry in the Male Voice’s eyes. He hated the idea of being doubted. Couldn’t stand that someone whom he respected would question his abilities. He hesitated a brief second before extending the packet of papers he’d received from Lady Alyss as part of their negotiations.

The Male Voice took the papers. His eyes widened as he read the parchment. “Where did you get these?”

Most documents were digital, which also meant traceable. You couldn’t trace printed paper. If he named Lady Alyss the Male Voice would naturally wonder why his opponent would give Emet such a powerful weapon against her case.

“An interested party placed them in my hands.”

The Male Voice looked Emet up and down. It had been a difficult sell bringing Emet on. He had no formal education outside of the temple. He had no family backing to help him maneuver in the political world. His Mother had returned to the Goddess years ago. His brother and sisters were busy with their own families and never showed Emet any interest. Emet had gotten by his entire life on his wits and his sharp mind.

The Male Voice handed the papers back to Emet. “There are a lot of sharks in this world, Emet.”

“I’ve navigated rough waters before.” Emet placed the papers in his case. “I’ll be prepared for tomorrow.”

“I have every confidence you will.” The Voice placed a hand on Emet’s shoulder and gave a squeeze.
 

As the Voice walked past him and back inside his offices, Emet allowed his large frame to sag against his desk. When he straightened, he was more determined than ever to win this battle.
He left the building and headed home.

When he arrived at the storefront, he saw Alyss and Adom from the window. They looked like a picture perfect couple. Adom’s fingers worked over parchment. Alyss bent over watching his fingers move. They both looked up at the sound of the bell above the door.

Adom’s face lit up at the sight of Emet. “We were waiting for you.”

Emet wondered if his mate was excited to see him or if he was excited to get started with his muse again. Emet’s eyes strayed to Lady Alyss. Her smile, bright before, dropped into the reserved polite up-tilt of her station. Gone was the blissful look that clouded her features when Adom had bound and sketched her this morning. Emet motioned for them to head down into the studio. He turned the lock on the shop’s door and followed behind them.

They descended into the studio and Adom showed them his progress. The meanings of Adom’s abstract artworks always eluded Emet. The meaning behind this painting was clear. It was a lotus blossom. Its leaves done in vibrant shades of green. From the core of the blossom emerged a woman, her arms and legs stretching as though she were awakening, being born, or perhaps even giving birth. At present the woman’s body was colorless.

“I’m can’t see the colors,” Adom said. “She’s meant to be born out of the flower. The colors should look like a woman’s core.”

Silence rang deafeningly loud in the small studio.

Other books

Acts of God by Mary Morris
even if i am. by Glass, Chasity
Scraps & Chum by Ryan C. Thomas
Bitter Taffy by Amy Lane
Deadfall by Robert Liparulo
Other Side of the Wall by Jennifer Peel
Fuzzy Navel by J. A. Konrath


readsbookonline.com Copyright 2016 - 2024