52. Rosenna
Chapter fifty-two
Rosenna
W alking up the stairs, I stumbled slightly as Beckham’s hands steadily held my waist. I would have thanked him; however, I groaned. My vision was entirely obstructed by the blindfold he thought would be appropriate for me to wear as he walked up multiple flights of stairs.
“Mr. Garcia, is all of this truly necessary?” I asked, annoyed.
He hummed. “Of course it is, my stubborn little flower. The word ‘surprise’ should ring a bell, hmm, baby?”
I attempted to strike his shoulder; however, I ended up hitting his face instead. I went to apologize; however, I rolled my eyes as he caught my hand and gingerly placed a kiss on its back.
“There’s no need to be aggressive, baby. We’re almost there.”
Once we reached the top of the steps, I listened as he unlocked a door. Grabbing my hand in his, we entered a rather dark room that had my heart racing in anticipation. He walked me farther inside, and I groaned internally as we found another set of steps. Is he actively trying to get me to trip?
I was close to scolding him once again for his carelessness. However, I bit my tongue as we reached the top. He stopped in the middle of the floor, and I bit my lip nervously as he let go of my hand.
“Beckham, what’s going on?”
He leaned down and placed a quick kiss against my lips before resting his head against mine.
“Don’t take the blindfold off until I tell you to,” he ordered, his voice laced with authority and his usual seductive tone. His hand caressed my face softly before he pulled away and walked in another direction.
For a moment it was quiet. Then sounds of industrial building lights being turned on sounded throughout the building.
Beckham’s footsteps returned. He stood behind me, and my breath hitched as his hand traced down the length of my back.
“Keep your eyes closed,” he muttered by my ear. His hands found the knot of the blindfold, and he removed it with ease before pulling it from my eyes.
“Open them.”
Slowly, my eyes opened, adjusting to the light as I waited for them to focus. Once they did, my racing heart effectively stopped as my breathing slowed. The beautiful historic architecture seemed too familiar.
It was the same building that I had to, unfortunately, give up my dreams of owning even though I still found myself dreaming of it often.
Looking throughout the museum, I noticed a few of the paintings had been taken off the walls, and some of the showrooms were empty. However, the atmosphere was still there, the welcoming aura I loved when I first walked into this building. And as my confusion grew, I turned to look at Beckham, who was silently waiting for me to speak.
“Beckham… what are we doing here?” I asked cautiously, my eyes immediately seeing the utter love and devotion in his eyes as he looked at me, waiting for my reaction.
Part of me knew what this could’ve been, but I couldn’t jump to conclusions. I didn’t want to get my hopes up… but it was growing increasingly harder as my eyes welled with joyful tears.
He stepped closer, giving me a slight shrug. “Thought it’d be nice for you to see your new property before the remodeling starts…”
“What?” I whispered almost breathlessly, looking into his eyes for any hint that this was some sick joke. He remained sincere.
“Painters will be in next week to give the place a nice fresh coat, the electrician is already in the books to tune up whatever needs fixing, and the floor technician is coming to check on the integrity of the carpets and to sand and wax the floors.”
As I looked up at him, tears streaming down my face, I felt absolutely at a loss. I still couldn’t believe any of this was true. I couldn’t believe he’d done all of this for me. I was absolutely devastated when I found out Helen sold the place—but the man I was absolutely and utterly in love with was the buyer! And now he was giving me the keys to live out my dream—my dream to give artists voices, to share their creativity and artistry, to be a part of something worthwhile.
I threw my arms around his neck as I cried into his shoulder.
“Flower?” he muttered, caressing my back.
“You’re so fucking crazy,” I whispered, pulling him closer.
He chuckled, placing soft kisses on my neck and shoulder. “Only for you, Rosenna.”
“You’ve already done so much for me. You… you pulled me out of debt, you pulled me out of my miserable marriage, you cherished me when I was at my lowest and adored me at my highest… I can’t. I can’t accept this. It was supposed to be a forgotten dream.”
He pulled away, and I shook my head as his hands held my face, his eyes darkening as he looked down at me.
“And you’re my only fucking dream, Rosenna. There is absolutely nothing I wouldn’t give you. You wanted this gallery; it’s yours. You wanted to share my artistry with the world, all of my paintings, sculptures, blood, sweat, hard work… all of it is yours. Fuck, Flower… if you wanted the world, I would use every resource, every asset, every dollar that runs through my fucking bloodline to give it to you. You already know I would give you absolutely everything you could ever dream or ask of.”
“When am I going to wake up?” I whispered, my lip trembling. “When am I going to wake up to the life I had before, where I could only dream of being in love with a man like you? It feels too good to be true.”
His hand threaded into my hair; I gasped as he forced my head back, towering over me as his lips hovered over mine. “You will never wake up…” His voice husked, and I hid a moan as he leaned down to my neck, taking in my scent as if he needed it to breathe.
Feeling his tongue on my skin, my legs buckled, but his other hand immediately caught me, pulling me flush against him. Biting my lip, my hands rested against his chest as he lowered my head to make eye contact with him.
“I will never let you fucking wake up. Not if being with you is my fucking dream, my fucking fantasy. I will never let you wake up without knowing I’ll be there to cherish you. Without knowing I’ll be there to worship every single thing that makes you the woman you are…”
His mouth was feverish, hungry to devour any and every part of me. And God, I would let him do everything he wanted to me. I would let him cherish my mind, body, and soul… I would absolutely give this man every part of me.
He was all I would ever want and need. He ruined me for any other man willing to attempt to awaken me from this dream—the dream I never wanted to wake up from.
Threading my hand through his hair, I locked eyes with him before his lips found mine, claiming them as if they belonged to him. They would always belong to him.
He pressed his body against mine, allowing me to feel his need for me, to feel his warmth, his broad and defined chest against mine, to feel everything as he poured his emotions into the kiss.
“I have… something else I need to show you,” he muttered against my lips.
Drunk in lust, I followed him wordlessly as he brought me over to a mirrored wall I hadn’t noticed before that looked out to the gallery in the far back. He pulled out a key and removed his hand from mine before he placed the key into a door adjacent to the wall.
“When Helen showed me this room, I immediately knew what I’d use it for. It was previously used for meetings and then eventually storage, and now…”
He opened the door.
As I went inside, my eyes widened. The room was littered with canvases that played their role in the rather famous “PRICELESS” exhibit. The sculptures were in one corner, paintings along the walls either leaning on the floor or hanging up on the walls. However, the thing that truly caught my eye was the set up in the middle of the floor that held his canvas and easel as well as boxes of roses, blankets, and all the other components he would put into his paintings of me. I also noticed the mirror was actually a one-way mirror, allowing us to see the outside and be completely discreet to those looking on.
“What is this, Beckham?”
He closed the door behind him, his eyes trailing up and down my body with utter hunger.
“This is our compromise, Flower. While you’re busy running the galleries and working, I’ll be here in my new studio away from home. Here, I’ll plan out all of the future displays and exhibits of the ‘troubled and talented son of Vincent Garcia’ to be shown exclusively at your museums, get some sales going and build some traction for new buyers and investors.”
More tears piled in my eyes. “You would truly do all of that for me?”
“I would do anything for you, Flower. And for all of this, all I ask in return…” He trailed off before his hand found my shoulder. He rubbed it softly, his eyes darkening as I bit my lip.
A sense of excitement passed through me as I looked up at him. “Is me,” I whispered, knowing that was the answer to everything. He would give me everything I could ever ask for. All I had to do was give myself to him.
As if I wouldn’t do it in a heartbeat.
And now, just like before, this would be our little game filled with desire and secrets. This so-called agreement would only bring us closer together, and I was excited to get back into posing for him. However, part of me was concerned with doing it in front of the one-way mirror.
“Any particular interest in the one-way mirror?”
My heart raced as a conniving evil smile came to his lips.
Hearing the grand doors of the museum open, my head shot over to see figures ascending the grand steps. My eyebrows furrowed as Kira entered, followed by some men in suits as well as construction workers.
Before I was able to question anything, Beckham grabbed me and pushed me flush against the glass. A few heads turned at the sound, but they returned to their discussion.
“B-Beckham,” I whispered before I threw my head back on his shoulder as he ground his hips against my ass.
“This room serves me a lot of interests, Flower. And seeing you flush against the mirror, your face red in embarrassment as I fuck your little cunt is only one of them,” he whispered in my ear before his mouth placed open-mouth kisses on my neck.
One hand went lower, entering my pants, and knowing my body better than I, he placed his other hand over my mouth as a deep moan surfaced at his touch against my clothed clit.
He pinched me with a slight chuckle as I jerked in his hold. Despite my hesitancy and fear of being caught, I felt extremely aroused, the proof of it resting on Beckham’s fingers as he tortured me through my underwear.
Soon, the men walked further into the building, and Beckham pulled his hand out before forcing my pants down, removing his other hand from my mouth. The anticipation of being caught was far too enticing, and though it should have worried me that Beckham chose this area to paint me, part of me enjoyed the thrill of it all.
“So… do you accept my terms and conditions, Flower?”
My knees buckled as I tried to remain silent so as not to alert the people outside. In an instant, however, I felt him enter me, and I leaned my face against the glass, my body shuddering at his intrusion.
With his hands on my hips, he seated his cock deep inside of me, and my eyes rolled back as I could barely keep myself upright. Grabbing my jaw in his hand, he turned my head to look back at him as he moved his hips.
“Everything can be yours, Flower… All you have to do is agree.” His voice was velvet as he looked down at me with utter love.
He already knew my answer. He knew I would never say no to him. “Yes, I do… fuck, I do,” I whispered.
His eyes seemed to darken, his signature sinister gaze settling on me.
“Say it again,” he growled, his fingers digging into my hips as he thrust deeper, snapping his hips into me as if the words unleashed something in him, forcing a sharp gasp from my lips.
“I do. I do. I do. I do.” The words dissolved into helpless, shuddering cries, my legs almost giving out beneath me.
Beckham’s hand caught my hair, yanking me back into his chest, his lips brushing against my temple in a gentle kiss, his other hand pinning my waist still so I had no choice but to take him.
“Remember those words when we’re at the altar saying vows and when I fuck you on our honeymoon,” he said casually, almost like his thrusts weren’t knocking the air from my lungs.
My heart fluttered as he pulled my head back fully, forcing me to look up into his eyes drunkenly to see he meant every single word.
He placed a kiss on my lips as he fucked me deeper.
“You don’t know how much I fucking love you, Rosenna,” he muttered, kissing my forehead.
I bit my lip as my orgasm approached. Before I could even say it back, my legs almost gave out as I came. His hand moved over my mouth as he muffled my moans, shushing me softly as his thrusts never let up.
“Shhh, baby, you’re okay… you’re okay.”
His fingers traced down my stomach, down between my legs, rubbing the oversensitive bundle of nerves until my muscles locked, my body convulsing.
“And what’s behind that door there?”
My eyes widened. The contractors, and Kira, were closer than I had anticipated.
“Just a private storage room. If any alterations are needed, we’ll let you know.”
Beckham let go of my hair, I was able to see them leaving the area to venture farther into the gallery. Part of me wondered why the hell Kira was here and how she even knew Beckham was doing all this for me.
As if she heard me asking those very questions, she paused, allowing the others to continue. And like a sneaky bitch, she looked over to the mirror and sent what looked like a sly little wink.
My jaw dropped.
She knew about this?!
I wanted to focus on getting angry at her, but Beckham was too busy forcing me to be his obedient masochist. I could barely think straight.
When I... well, if I get out of here, I’m going to absolutely kill her.