Chapter 10
ASTON
“Absolutely not, Aston!” Kerrigan squealed, backing up before I could get my arms around her. “I am not going to let you paint me naked!”
“Why not?” I tilted my head and watched her, genuinely curious.
She huffed and danced out of my reach once more, making me scowl.
“I can see now why they say that Americans are more prudish than the French,” she sighed. “You are not going to win this one.”
“On verra ca,” I muttered under my breath. I would win this argument eventually, but it seemed I would have to ease Kerrigan into her surrender. “Alright, miette. How about a compromise?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Like what?”
“How about just a sheet?”
“A sheet?” She eyed me suspiciously. “Like Venus of Urbino?”
“I would be more than happy to paint you like that, petite miette,” I said with a devilish grin.
“Try again,” she sniffed haughtily.
I tapped my chin as I contemplated options. “Neoclassical Nude by Francesco Trombadori?”
“Next.”
“The Birth of Venus?”
“Not going to happen.”
“Venus Italica?”
“Better, but still no.”
I ran through more options in my head before taking another shot. “La Grande Odalisque?”
Kerrigan bit her lip as she thought over my proposal, then she muttered, “Fine. But only if you cover my ass with the sheet.”
I grinned and closed the distance between us before she could scurry away. “Deal,” I grunted before I grasped her biceps and lifted her so I could kiss her. “Merci, miette.”
Her face was flushed when I set her back on her feet, but she grumbled, “I can’t believe I agreed to this.”
“Wait here.” I gave her a quick peck before jogging over to a door across the room.
I pushed it open and stepped inside the storage closet.
Shelves of supplies lined each wall, including one that held a stack of clean, white sheets.
I didn’t like using tarps beneath my easels because they would never lay perfectly flat.
And they were a bitch to clean. So I’d started using sheets, and when I was finished, I threw them in the wash and returned them to the closet.
They were splattered with stains from the pigments I used, but it wasn’t dried paint, so it wouldn’t feel rough or itchy against Kerrigan’s soft skin.
Before exiting the room, I checked the lock on the false wall across from the door.
There were three paintings from our last shipment that I’d been working on, and the last thing I wanted was for Kerrigan to stumble across the masterpieces I was cleaning and restoring.
The rest of the cargo was locked in the secret vault underneath the Belladonna Gallery.
When I strolled into the studio’s open space, Kerrigan scowled at the fabric I was carrying, causing a chuckle to rumble in my chest.
I pointed at a cracked door near the counter and placed the sheets in her hands with a wink. “You can change in there, miette.”
She grumbled all the way over to the bathroom, and I waited until the door clicked shut to release my laughter.
“I can hear you, Aston!” she shouted through the door.
“Can I help it if you are très adorable?”
I looked around the room, trying to decide on the best place to set up.
Once I picked a spot, I crossed to the door that led to my office and unlocked it.
Inside were several pieces of furniture in addition to my desk.
One of them was a French Style Louis XV Chaise Lounge with black velvet and gold leafing.
Carefully, I dragged it into the main room and set it up where the lighting was exactly as I wanted.
When the bathroom door opened, Kerrigan hesitantly shuffled out, a sheet wrapped tightly around her sweet curves all the way to her ankles. Her eyes swept over the space I’d set up, and when they landed on the sofa, they narrowed.
“I take it you’ve painted other women on that thing?” Her tone was haughty, but I didn’t miss the thread of hurt.
Smiling gently, I crossed over to her and wrapped her in my arms. “Jamais, petite miette. Never.”
She remained stiff in my embrace and raised a single eyebrow.
“When I built this studio, my brother Charles gave me that chaise as a joke,” I informed her with a lopsided smile. “There is a television show we used to watch together, and in one episode, an artist paints one of the characters in his boxers, posed provocatively on a sofa much like this one.”
Kerrigan’s lips curved, and her green pools sparkled with merriment as the tension seeped from her muscles. “I remember that one. The glasses, black socks, and balding head really dialed up the sexy.”
I frowned playfully and tightened my arms around her. “I don’t like hearing you call another man sexy, miette.”
Kerrigan giggled and went up on her toes to place a sweet kiss on my lips. “Don’t worry. You’re the sexiest man I’ve ever known, Aston Couillens. I only see you.”
“Good,” I grunted before taking her mouth in a deep kiss that had us both gasping for breath when we pulled away.
“I’d like to meet your brother someday,” she said with a soft smile. “He sounds like quite the character.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s one way to describe the connard. He knew very well that I would never use this. But then, neither of us ever expected you.”
Pink bloomed on her cheeks as she beamed at me.
Dipping my head, I placed a kiss on the apple of each cheek, then ran the tip of my index finger over them, tracing the sun-kissed sprinkles. “I love these.”
She frowned. “My freckles?”
“Mm-hmm. I want to kiss all of them.” My gaze turned hot as I followed their path from her beautiful face to the top of her breasts. “Every single one.”
Kerrigan shivered, and her breathing stuttered.
“But first, I’m going to paint your gorgeous body so I can study the constellations.”
She giggled at my description as I led her over to the chaise.
When I tugged at the sheet, she didn’t let go, her expression turning apprehensive.
“Don’t be shy, belle. Your curves are magnifique,” I said in a deep, sultry voice. “Absolutely mouthwatering.”
“I’ve never had body issues, so why do I feel so nervous?” she wondered with a self-deprecating laugh.
“Se détendre, Kerrigan. Lie down and relax.”
She inhaled slowly, seeming to draw in courage before dropping the sheet and climbing onto the sofa to settle on her side.
Merde. She was every bit as exquisite as I’d imagined. My cock stood at attention, and my hands itched to feel all of that pale, silky skin. But I fought for control because I didn’t want to risk Kerrigan changing her mind. I’d been dying to paint her since the first moment I laid eyes on her.
“You’ve seen the painting, oui?” I asked, practically croaking from the dryness in my mouth.
She hummed her agreement and raised just enough to support herself on her elbow, then bent her knees slightly.
I picked up the fabric and draped it over her so only her ass and hip were covered. Then she extended her arm out so it was resting on her leg, and I placed a flower in her hand—as opposed to the feather fan the woman in the painting had held.
Standing back, I observed her pose, then made a few slight adjustments. When I was finished, she turned her head to look back at me over her shoulder.
The curve of her torso and position of her arm left a gap between them that showed off the swell of one of her incredible breasts.
“Mon Dieu,” I breathed. “Vous êtes si chaud et magnifique. Je voudrais te baiser.”
“What did you say?” she asked, her green orbs glinting with desire.
“You are gorgeous,” I edited, choosing not to tell her that I’d also said I wanted to fuck her.
She blushed hard, and I was fascinated as I watched it spread over her creamy skin. “Is this how you want me?”
I nearly groaned at her unintentional entendre. Non. I wanted her naked with her legs open wide, giving me a view of that tight pussy I’d felt dripping on my fingers.
“One last thing,” I said after clearing my throat and trying to push away my dirty thoughts.
Her thick red tresses were pulled up into a ponytail, and I gently removed the elastic to free it. Her hair tumbled down her back in gorgeous waves. “Parfaite.”
I strutted over to my easel, where I’d already set up the paints and brushes I intended to use.
For the next couple of hours, I captured her beauty and elegance on my canvas.
She would only be able to stay in that position for so long without becoming stiff and in pain, so we frequently took breaks for her to relax.
When I was at a good stopping point, I capped my paints and took my brushes over to the sink. I tried to concentrate on cleaning them, but after staring at her mostly naked body for hours, my cock was so big and hard that I winced every time I moved.
Finally, I’d taken care of my tools, and when I turned back around, my breath got caught in my lungs.
Kerrigan had shifted on the chaise to face me, her body in a similar pose.
Only she was holding the sheet up over her tits.
But they were too big to be fully hidden with only one hand gripping the fabric.
She obviously hadn’t realized that it was barely covering her nipples.
And the part that was draped over her hip had risen when she turned over, resting high enough for me to just barely see her pussy through the shadow created by the sheet.
Her eyes were greedily roaming over my body, and she licked her lips.
My control snapped.
In a few long strides, I was at her side and bent over to cage her between my arms, forcing her to roll onto her back.
“Do you want to know what else I said earlier?” I rasped.
She blinked, trying to process my question through the haze of lust surrounding her. “Yes,” she whispered.
“I want to fuck you, Kerrigan.”
Her tongue darted out to wet her lips again, and her emerald orbs lit up with fire.
Moving one of my hands down between us, I trailed my fingers lightly up her thigh until I reached her center.