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The room was lit by the flickering fire from the fireplace and a few sparse candles that decorated the walls. For the most part, it was dark, and for the most part… it was silent. The hard wood floor was cold from the winter chill and yet near the fire the boards warmed considerably. Heavy, upholstered furniture adorned the entire chamber, giving it a truly masculine look. It was obvious that Alexei had not had a hand in the design of this particular room. Nor did he appear to have had any hand in the design of the other rooms either. This was still his father’s place, as much as Alexei was the heir to the estate. And as far as the young heir was concerned… his father could keep… the estate.

Aeryk dipped his hands into the water basin and sloshed the ice cold liquid onto his face. He sighed heavily and let the frigid rivulets run off his chin and drip down his cheeks, before finally picking up a towel and wiping them away. He stood there bare chested and beltless, staring blindly over his friend’s bed. Alexei gazed at his friend, mesmerized by the curvature of the other man’s back, by the glint of firelight that warmed the skin. Aeryk didn’t move an inch, but stood there, his breath making his torso expand and contract slowly. Alexei knew.. what he was thinking.

“You should model for me.” His soft voice barely broke through the silence in the room.

“Alexei,” The single word was spoken on a frustrated sigh. It was the same reason he’d given a thousand times before. “You know I do not play the games that you play… nor do I have the desires that you have.”

“No,” Alexei laughed snidely. “No, you most certainly do not.”

Aeryk turned and glared at the other man. Alexei, so feminine and yet so utterly condescending, accusing, condemning.

‘I could not help myself.”

“No man could. And that… is why I hid her so well.” They hadn’t spoken of the woman since that night. Not since Aeryk had chased after her, taken her. “Because the mask beckons, and the body lures…” A slight pause. “You ruined her you know…”

“Yes.” He remembered the blood, but moreso he remembered the passion, the bursting of desire. Her, dabbling her finger in the essence of him that he’d left on her thighs… then tasting it. “So who is she anyway? Some say a peasant… some say a princess.”

“Curiosity killed the cat Aeryk. I trusted you not to touch her… why should I trust you with anything more?” Then the feral glint of blackmail sparkled in Alexei’s eye. “Perhaps though… perhaps if you posed for me…”

He left that sentence hanging in the air, to be finished by Aeryk’s own thoughts. And his thoughts finished it again and again in a hundred different ways. There could be so many promises that Alexei could make. Since the night that he had first seen the object, the woman, who had been the root of his desire for weeks, months, a year now… he had thought of nothing else. He had touched her, taken her, and when he closed his eyes he could still hear her panting in his ear. He could still feel her, her soft skin bared to him beneath the crimson velvet of her robe. He’d wanted her then… now, she was an obsession. Two months later, she had vanished off the face of the earth… leaving him behind with the scent of her, still in his nostrils.

“What?” He asked gruffly, “You’ll let me see her? Touch her? You’ll tell me her name so that I might find her? If I posed for you… what?”

“I might forgive you… for ruining her.” Alexei’s mouth quirked into an angry smile, he had never allowed himself to forget the betrayal that this single act had been. Aeryk had promised to look but not touch, and he had chased her down, practically raped her in his need to possess this fantasy woman. “She was my best model. She was the body that men would kill for… as you yourself know… and now she will not touch me, will not come near me. You have not only cost her… her virtue… You have cost me my fame. Because of all the artists in this country who begged me for a few moments of her time… she would model for no one else. And now… now… she will not touch even me…”

“I’m sorry for that,” Aeryk raked a hand through his dark hair. “Had I known…”

“Had you thought for just one second… with your head…”

There was a silence then, both men staring hard at one another. Aeryk contrite, Alexei condescending. Alexei was the first to look away. He turned chocolate colored eyes toward the fireplace and clawed at the upholstered arms of the chair in frustration. His teeth gritted, the sound echoing loudly in the room. He shook his head subtly, the anger fairly pulsing beneath his flesh. Eventually he heaved a sigh and brought his gaze back to where Aeryk stood, the man staring at the floor, his mind obviously elsewhere.

“Sit for me,” Alexei said, and watched Aeryk’s mouth open around a denial. “Come on Aeryk! You owe me… you owe me…”

Alexei heard the other man sigh, and he smiled.

“All you have to do is sit… nothing more… I promise you that. Just… sit… ” Then, he went for the almanbahis adresi jugular. “And unlike some… I always keep my promises…”

He could see the guilt painted on Aeryk’s face. It glowed red in the banner of his flushed cheeks, the crimson of his bottled fury. Aeryk was a beautiful man. The tall, dark, broody type that women fell all over themselves to catch. And he was a catch… but also a dedicated bachelor. Alexei saw his eyes close as he heaved a sigh, then Aeryk moved forward slowly. Alexei stood then and walked toward his friend. Hands out, he placed his fingers inside the waistband of Aeryk’s pants and began to undo the laces. A hand snaked out and grasped his fingers, crushing them in an iron grip.

“You said sit Alexei…”

“Yes, but all my models sit in the nude…” he smiled. “I am not trying to fuck you Aeryk, I know what side you play for… I’m just… readying a model.”

“Your model can ready himself.”

Alexei shrugged, stepping back, and as Aeryk shucked his trousers and stepped out of them, Alexei gathered together his papers and inks. He turned back and grinned, Aeryk… was magnificent. Not heavily muscled, but well built. He was taller than most men, if not wider, and every single muscle and tendon was outlined beneath the flesh. Spectacular. Aeryk turned to face him again, baring his front to his friend’s view. Alexei could already see that, though Aeryk was not massive, he was formidable.

“Well, where do you want me?” Alexei arched an eyebrow at the question and Aeryk quickly amended. “To sit… where do you want me to sit?”

“Over there, in one of the armchairs by the fire. Slouch down, put your arms on the arms and spread your legs…” He paused intentionally, letting that line sink in before continuing. “… out in front of you.”

Aeryk did as ordered, positioning himself so that his right side was to the fire. Alexei took a seat in the chair opposite and propped a few sheaves of parchment on his knee. He sat for a moment, completely still and staring, then adjusted his position a bit and placed the burned end of a twig to the paper. Alexei worked mostly in ink, but occasionally he would dabble with charcoal. This was, apparently, one of those times. In mere seconds Alexei’s attention was completely absorbed, and, a muttered:

“Do not move an inch… or I will strangle you…”

Was the last sound that the room heard, besides the slightest scratching of pencil on paper. Occasionally Alexei would move to place the stick over a candle flame so that he could re-blacken the end. Aeryk was just slightly chilly sitting there without a stitch, and more than a little uncomfortable. His dark eyes remained on Alexei the entire time, as if wary of the other man’s motives. Eventually his body began to ache a bit, his back protesting this rather unnatural slouch that Alexei had talked him into. He did not squirm, but bit back each protest and remained seated where he was. Eventually Alexei looked up and smiled.

“I love the way you stare at me so,” he said. “So dark and brooding, so very… angry looking.”

“So very masculine.” The sentence was finished.

The feminine voice seemingly came out of nowhere. As did the hand that reached over the chair back and placed itself on his shoulder. It remained there for the barest of seconds before sliding down over his chest to tease at his nipple. He could feel her warmth, smell her scent, but he hadn’t even heard the door open to admit her. His muscles tensed to move, he began to turn, to look at her… because he knew that hand, knew that voice… knew. Without a doubt. That it was her.

“Aeryk! Do not move an inch! The slightest twitch can change the light…”

He froze at Alexei’s admonition and fell back into the chair, relaxing, squeezing his eyes closed and gritting his teeth against sheer fury. His hands clawed at the chair arms and he wanted to scream in frustration. He felt the hand slip away and struggled to keep himself from grasping it, holding it, keeping it with him. The swishing of fabric told him that she’d moved, coming around in front of him. Aeryk opened his eyes and stared up at her. She was… perfection.

The deep burgundy of her gown was the perfect compliment to her dark hair and pale skin. Blue eyes sparkled like sapphires against the crimson backdrop. The dark, curling locks of her hair were piled up atop her head, baring her graceful neck to the common view. The mask… it was there, the same mask that she always wore. In every painting. And every fantasy that he’d ever had.

“Here, I come to apologize for abandoning you… and I find that you’ve already replaced me.” The humor in her voice was evident. “Shame on you Alexei… so very… unfaithful.”

Her eyes tore over Aeryk, raking from head to toe and back again. She paused at certain spots, his feet, his thighs, and, of course, the juncture between. She seemed to devour the sight of his flaccid cock where it lay nestled within the wiry black curls that started low and made the slightest trail upward, almanbahis adresi over his belly. His shoulders, then eventually, his face… when her eyes met his, she smiled wider.

Alexei seemed to barely acknowledge her presence at all. He kept scratching away at the paper, heedless of the interruption. She moved in slow circles around Aeryk, careful not to remain in Alexei’s view for more than a second or two. A vulture, again and again she walked around his body, brushing her finger across his shoulder, the chair back, his hand. It was as if she was as greedy for his flesh, as he was for hers. And he was greedy for hers. Only the utmost restraint kept him from achieving an instant hardon at her approach. He just kept gritting his teeth, closing his eyes… wishing her closer, wishing her further away.

He felt her move again, felt the absence of her warmth, her fragrance as he strode away from him. She moved toward the bed, the huge four poster with canopy and curtains. She seemed dwarfed within the haughty regalia of that bed. Small as she positioned herself in the middle. His eyes turned toward her.

She was a vision, the corset squeezing her breasts upward so that they fairly spilled out of the neckline of her gown. She crossed her legs beneath the voluminous folds of her skirts and leaned back, propping herself up on both hands. She remained like that, her eyes watching him. Every now and again though, her gaze would flicker over Alexei as he scratched away at his drawing. Every now and again, her smile would get just a bit wider… just a bit more… wicked.

It was obvious that she was used to posing, and so she posed for him now. Her beautiful breasts thrust forward, spilling over the neckline of her gown. She feigned a yawn that made her chest heave and then return, and Aeryk felt the first stirrings of true arousal. For a moment she fanned herself, pretending to cool her flushed cheeks, before she placed her palm flat against her collarbone. Down, down the hand slid until the tips of her fingers disappeared within the tight cleft of her cleavage. Slowly she toyed with the little bow that held the laces of her gown together in front. Tugging, tugging, then pulling at one neat end and unraveling it. One by one, the laces were loosened, the corset buttons were unsnapped. Little by little, her breasts came more and more into his view.

And he had the perfect view of her from his vantage point. The bed lay just behind Alexei and to his right side, in front of Aeryk… a perfect stage for her masquerade. He moved nothing, nothing at all but his eyes, and those eyes ate up her form like a starving man at a feast. Inch by slow inch, her heavy breasts came into his eyeline. She unlaced and unbuttoned and leaned back on one arm. Her head fell back and she shook her hair free of the precarious pins that held it in place. Milk chocolate locks cascaded over her shoulders, covering the flesh that she exposed… and still teasing him with the hint of skin beneath.

One foot peeked out from beneath her gown at first, followed slowly by the other until she sat with her legs spread out in front of her. Slowly the hand that worked at the laces of her gown, slid down, down, down until she was gathering up rich, heavy folds of burgundy velvet… and dragging it upwards. Ankles first, covered in chaste white stockings. Calves next, well muscled and perfectly formed. Thighs, God… thighs! Circled at first by pretty ribboned garters… then bare above it, her skin so creamy white that he could barely stand the sight. He wanted to be there, right now, tasting… His muscles tensed for action.


The sharp yelping of his name by Alexei brought him up short. He relaxed again, closing his eyes and breathing heavily. Sweat had broken out on his brow and it trickled downward, over his temples, down his cheek and dripping off his chin and onto his chest. His nipples pebbled hard as the little drops of salt water traveled across his skin. In his mind, they were her fingers… ever so lightly… teasing. Eventually he got control, eventually he managed to put a cap on the wayward images. Eventually… he opened his eyes.

A choked groan escaped him and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed heavily, biting back another frustrated moan. His cock leaped to attention, surpassing the half-mast semi-stiffness that usually ushered in the later, more urgent… hard. No, no halfing it… he was hard, fully, completely, achingly. In seconds. Because she… was completely exposed to his view.

The dark, black curls at the juncture of her thighs peeked out beneath the crimson material of her dress. She’d spread her legs, bending at the knees so that he could get a better view. Her hand jerked at the opening of her gown and she exposed a breast to him. Just one, and he almost came undone. Her skin was so white, like fresh cream, and her nipple—God, that nipple!—was just a few shades darker. It was the most incredible tan that he’d ever encountered. So light, but it darkened at the tip where it was hard, hard… almanbahis adresi

Like he was hard.

He panted then, sucking in a harsh breath. He ached with his need for her, ached… needed. His erection stood straight and tall, curving just slightly upward. His entire body shuddered with need. Want. Desire. Obsessive, possessive, desire.

Her hand stroked at her thigh, then moved upwards. That naughty smile quirked on her lips and she pressed her fingers into her slit. From where he sat, Aeryk could see the firelight glinting off of the wetness that had sprung from the darkest depths of her. Her fingers slid into her passage, stroking, stroking. Then upward she moved, touching her clit and dancing her finger around it in small circles. She’d flick it with the very tip of her finger and he’d listen as her breath hitched in her throat. She never made a sound louder than that breathing and thusly, he strained his ears to hear it… take it in.

He wanted to taste it.

Her breath.

Her wetness.

Aeryk glanced toward Alexei and, for the moment, the man seemed absorbed in his drawing. The slight scratch, scratch of pencil on parchment was the only sound in the room besides the crackling of the fire and their combined breathing. Aeryk’s hands clawed at the arm of the chair and he struggled. It was a deadly serious internal battle that he fought within himself at this moment. He didn’t want to move and risk Alexei’s ire… didn’t want to betray his friend in this way again.

But, God!

She was sitting there, so tempting, so completely wanton that he battled every second… to keep himself still in that chair.

His eyes went back to her again. Her head was thrown back and her dark curls fell over the bed’s coverlet. Her breast was completely exposed to his view and he wanted it. Wanted to suck it, taste it, feel the weight of it in his hand. His eyes… dropped lower.

Her fingers were wet now, he could see them, the moisture sparkling in the firelight. He groaned inwardly, a guttural, pained sound that came from the very depths of his frustrated soul. Alexei looked up and Aeryk immediately felt the other man’s gaze come to rest upon them. Alexei’s mouth was open, his eyes questioning… he noted Aeryk’s erection and smiled.

“Stay,” he said. “Just. Like. That.”

And he went back to his drawing.

Aeryk tried holding his breath to keep from panting. He couldn’t. His head became light and he closed his eyes. Torture. This was torture. He ached to reach out, grasp his cock and stroke it, soothe the ache. He ached, it was a pain… pure and physical. His thigh muscles clenched tightly and a sound of complete and utter frustration slipped past his throat.

It was torture to watch her.

Torture to not.

He heard her breathing quicken and he opened his eyes. Her fingers moved faster now, her legs spread wider. The pink lips of her labia were open to his view and he stared, enraptured. She was swollen and wet, oh-so-ready for him, for his heat, his cock. He was in rut and his erection strained toward her. He shifted his hips in the chair.

“Aeryk of you move… I swear…”

Alexei left the threat hanging, but the tone of his voice was enough. The other man’s hand worked furiously, the charcoal scratching, scratching. Aeryk was dizzy, lightheaded and completely swallowed by a haze of lust. Her fingers moved faster in her heat, her wetness. She teased her clit mercilessly and he watched as her hips pumped up and down, grinding into the bed with each stroke of her fingers. Her breathing came faster and faster, panting, her breasts struggling to escape the fabric that still half-covered them.



And then he felt it. Her orgasm struck and it rippled through the air like waves in the sea. She jerked and cried out, her hips thrusting upward and holding for a second, then bucking furiously as she teased herself to a violent climax.

And that was it.

He was done.

The bowstring snapped and he launched himself from the chair.


Alexei’s scream didn’t stop him, not even God himself could have stopped him in this moment. He vaulted over the clothing chest that lay at the foot of the bed and landed hard upon the feather mattress. He was between her legs then, grasping her hands roughly and shoving her back, pinning her arms to the side as he thrust, pounded, stormed past the gates of her womanhood and sank inside of her waiting warmth.

She moaned loud in his ear and he took her mouth, pillaging with his tongue, biting her lip, drawing blood in his violence… his need for her. She was submissive beneath him, taking each slapping thrust of his hips in stride. She rose to meet him and he swallowed her moans, her cries, her tongue…

Slap, slap, slap.

The wetness of her eased his way and he pounded against her, watching her voluptuous form bounce and struggle against him. He pressed himself in to the hilt and held there, slowly grinding himself into her. His hips prodded fiercely, jerking upward with sudden spasms that shook her prone form. He released her mouth and latched onto her nipple, drawing on the rock hardness of it. He sucked as much of her as he could… into his mouth, bringing the blood to the surface of her flesh, reddening the nipple.

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