Compulsion Ch. 03

Lana just grimaced privately to me. "Ignore her when she does that. She thinks she's funny. I've got red, white--or liquor, if you want."

I glanced at Adrian, hesitated, and shook my head. I was already buzzed enough on nerves. "No, no drink for me. I'm good. Thanks, though."

Adrian took a slouching seat on the chaise lounge, and gestured for me to sit, as well. I hunkered down in an armchair to her left. My portfolio was a heavy weight across my knees.

She quirked her eyebrows at me. "Well, I'm sure Grace has something that will satisfy my appetites, doesn't she?" She reached towards me, and my heart clenched. Then she placed her hand on my portfolio, and slid it off my lap. The cool leather of the case caressed my thighs through my tights.

"My art. Right. Yeah, I brought lots of stuff. You can, you know, help yourself..."

Adrian unzipped the case. A chill trailed down my back like it was me she was unzipping. "Oh, I always do."

"You always do," I whispered, just as Lana muttered the same words. I glanced over to her. She shrugged and rolled her eyes apologetically.

I squeezed my knees together as Adrian pored over my work. I was a little light-headed, actually. My stomach flipped and my pulse tripped. I'd added new work to my portfolio--I forked over for a nice giclée print every time I finished a new painting--but it occurred to me suddenly that I hadn't taken anything out since school. I'd improved since then, hadn't I? Why hadn't I cycled out some of the older pieces? I wanted to offer only the best of myself.

"And where did you find such a charming model?" Adrian ran a finger along the edge of the giclée she was considering.

I leaned forward to see what she meant, and immediately turned red. Eek. I definitely should've cycled out some older pieces...

Adrian was looking at me, now, gaze flickering hot against my already-hot face, and I knew there was no point evading the question. "Oh... that's actually my ex..."

Adrian smirked and turned back to the piece. In it, Mikey was posing as a shaggy-haired, boyish version of Ingres' Grande Odalisque. She looked back at the viewer--the painter, really--with bedroom eyes. "Well, I suppose I already know all about your excellent taste, don't I?"

I ducked my head, and Adrian moved mercifully on.

She wants me, I repeated in my head, a mantra that soothed my nerves in some ways and tweaked them in others. She wants me.

"You do your references justice, Grace," Adrian remarked, and her voice was growing lower and sharper. I couldn't help but lean in to listen. "Your passion for art history comes through clearly--and more than that, your understanding of it. You spoke to me of the conversational, responsive nature of artistic movements when we met, and the way you've organized your pieces here, by year of source material, offers insight not only into that conversation as it exists today, but as it might have then. If more women like you had had a stronger voice in it..."

"A stronger voice in it," Lana and I chorused. My tingle of nerves was building, and blending with a tingle of something more pleasant.

Adrian had exhausted my portfolio pieces now, and was opening up my new sketchbook. "Your variety of technique is very effective, too. More than enough to evoke a given reference, and yet you never lose your own style and perspective to that of the artists you emulate. And I can see by your process work that it's no accident. These exploratory drawings... you're looking for that balance point, and--" She turned the page--"you always seem to find it, hm?"

"I mean. I do my best..." Oh, my voice sounded so small and faint after listening to Adrian. I tugged absentmindedly at the scarf around my throat, and the silk slid across her mark on me. "Is it... captivating?"

She flashed me a sharp smile, and my heart throbbed just as sharply. "How could I put it any more succinctly than that?"

Adrian flipped back to the first page of the book and drew her fingertip along my scrawled-in date. "And you work quickly, don't you? Did you do all these in the last few days?" She sounded distantly impressed.

I flushed far too thoroughly at that slight suggestion of praise, and shook out my curls. "Oh, um, you know. I was feeling inspired, I guess. And they're only sketches."

"How long to go from this stage--" She traced the outline of my Reliquary Shrine study--"to a finished painting?"

"Depends on the piece and the size, but... maybe fifteen, twenty hours of work? Plus drying time between sessions? But that's about two weeks. With my day job and everything." I swallowed. Okay, maybe more like three weeks. Or four. But for Adrian, I could be faster...

"Hm." She returned to my giclées and leafed through the stack. "Your body of work is very cohesive. Unified by theme and vision, diverse in reference and technique. I think, say, another five of these concepts--" she indicated my sketchbook with a flick of her hand--"brought fully to life, and you'd be more than ready to show. That could be done by, what, June?"

My heart thudded. So soon. This was really happening. "Well--yeah! Yeah, June would be fine for me!"

Adrian laced her hands behind her head and considered. "Won't that be lovely? It's been far too long since I've put on a proper exhibition, with an opening night and all the rest. Any excuse for a party, hm?"

"She loves a party," Lana confirmed.

"But... what about the pieces on display now? Isn't that a proper show?"

"More of a formality, really, isn't it?" Adrian said. "I can hardly leave the walls bare, hm? But most of Sasha's work was sold before it was hung." A smile tugged at Adrian's lips. "Business lately has all been private sales, Grace. In fact, I'm sure I know where many of your pieces will end up. I have too many reliable buyers already--and yet I'm always in search of fresh blood, aren't I, Lana?"

"Oh!" My hand flew to my mouth to hold in a nervous giggle.

Lana sighed into her wineglass. "Yeah. You're a real shark, Adrian."

Adrian laughed. "Anyway... something like this is rather Céline's area of interest, isn't it?" She drummed her fingers against the print she was considering. "A collector contact of mine--professor of medieval studies in Toronto. She'd snap it up--" She snapped her fingers, my heart skipped, and she grinned--"in a heartbeat."

"In a heartbeat," I echoed, and touched a hand to my chest. Private sales to personal contacts. That would explain why Ellie hadn't found much online about the gallery.

Adrian turned to Lana. "And speaking of Céline--she's just put out her book, hasn't she? I should congratulate her. Perhaps I could send flowers?"

"You should congratulate her. But I'd send her a bottle instead. I remember she likes a Bordeaux."

Adrian gestured permissively. "Whatever you think is best, then. Oh--and see if you can get a hold of Felix."

"Get a hold of Felix. Why? What's happening with Felix?" Lana was apprehensive.

"We've been having the most delightful argument lately. I think he may pay me a visit."

"A visit," Lana muttered. "Great. Look forward to that."

Adrian didn't pick up on the sarcasm, or maybe just chose not to acknowledge it. "Yes," she said, rolling her head back and staring upwards. Her expression was pensive. "It would be nice to see him, wouldn't it?"

She raked a hand through her hair and sighed, and I watched her, fascinated. I wanted to know about the people she knew. I wondered what thoughts could possibly preoccupy her. I'd served Adrian a sliver of myself through my art tonight, and she'd devoured it; now I was getting a glimpse of her, and I was just as rapacious.

"And Sasha..." Adrian continued, slouching forward and adjusting her sunglasses. My ears pricked at the mention of the name. "I still haven't seen her since she got back. Call her again for me, Lana." Adrian tilted her head to the side and tapped a finger against the side of her face. "I want her soon. This week."

"You want her soon," Lana said. She took a tiny sip of her drink through tight lips. "...Lucky Sasha."

Well, I guess I knew about at least one thought that might preoccupy Adrian. Lucky Sasha. I tried to subdue the flutter in my ribcage. Was it jealousy again, or a thrill of apprehension?

Adrian looked over at me just as my heart throbbed, and she smiled. "Oh, but I'm losing sight of what's before me, aren't I, Grace? Isn't that impolite of me? Rest assured, you'll have my undivided attention for the rest of your night."

My undivided attention... And in that second, I did have it. Her gaze seared into me through her dark lenses, and I knew exactly what it meant. My breath caught and the blood surged in my ears and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

Adrian held me under the weight of her desire for an excruciating moment. And then...

"Lana," she said, turning back to her assistant, "aren't you getting hungry? You haven't had your dinner break yet, have you?"

Lana swirled her glass. "Yeah, I'm sure it's my dinner you're thinking about..."

Adrian just smiled roguishly at her, showing off her sharp teeth. Another thrill traipsed its way down my spine.

Lana flinched and downed the last mouthful of her drink. "And that's my cue." She slid the empty glass across the bar and collected her laptop. "Call me if you need me." With a nod of acknowledgement towards me and a wary look towards Adrian, she headed out.

"Lock up for me," called Adrian.

"I'll lock up for you," Lana echoed, without looking back. She twirled a jingling ring of keys on her index finger.

Then Lana was gone, and I was alone with Adrian. The gallery was so quiet and so dark, but for the little spotlight we were in. Adrian regarded me keenly. Carnivorously.

I had to say something to break the silence. Anything. "Lana knows about you..." My words wavered through the empty space.

Adrian's voice complemented the silence instead of breaking it. "Oh, rather more than she'd like to, most nights."

More than she'd like. There was so much I didn't know, wasn't there? So much I hadn't even thought to wonder over this past week, so consumed had I been in fever and fantasy. Maybe I could talk to Lana about it.

Adrian went on. "But isn't it the mark of a good servant, to be attuned to one's master's desires? And Lana really is very good."

"Very good," I repeated. The talk of servants and masters had driven all thoughts of Lana from my head.

Adrian shifted towards me by an inch. "And you really do look tempting, Grace."

"Tempting." My mouth was a little dry. I cleared my throat. "I. Um. I wanted to wear something you'd like..."

Adrian grinned and touched a hand to her chest, as if she were flattered. "Isn't that sweet of you? And I kept my schedule clear for you tonight, did you know?"

"R-really?"

She inclined her head. "I was so pleased to hear you'd called. I had such a good feeling about you, but there was always the possibility that I'd scared you off, hm?"

"You were pleased..." I felt very exposed as my blush seeped across my breasts. "Um... what would have happened if I didn't call?"

"Well, I would have gone hungry."

Adrian rose sinuously from her seat, and I jumped to my feet, too, as she stepped toward me.

Her shielded gaze was locked at my throat, where my scarf hid her bite. "Have you healed?"

"Yes." I swallowed hard. "Mostly. It was so fast! It's just light scars now--"

"Show me."

Fingers trembling, I untied my scarf. She stepped nearer again. Her fingertips brushed from my shoulder up to my pulse point, tracing the curves of her mark. I bit my lip. My pulse throbbed under her touch and despite the intensity of my nerves, there was a strong undercurrent of desire alive within me, too.

"Good," she said, and drew back. "Good enough, anyway, hm? And how do you feel?"

"Good... I mean. Fine now. The first few nights were a bit, um... restless, I guess. But that settled."

"Did it?" A trace of amusement. "Or are you perhaps restless again now?"

"Maybe a little," I allowed. My heart was racing. "...What about you?"

"What is it that they say about rest and the wicked?" Adrian's appetite burned into me even through her sunglasses, but she restrained herself. She retreated back to her seat on the chaise. Very deliberately, she slipped her glasses off, folded them, tucked them into her breast pocket. And then when she finally turned her gaze back to me--

"The clothes are to my tastes, but now I want to see what's underneath." Her eyes were black and hot as coals. "Undress for me."

Adrian's command juddered through me like my own heartbeat. I cast away my scarf. My shaking hands fumbled with the buttons of my blouse. She lit me up and I tore it away, popping the last button straight off. I stumbled out of my heels, and rolled my skirt down, and then my tights, nearly tripping. There was nothing coy about it--not a tease by any stretch. Just an overwhelming urge to bare myself to her. To be seen by her. To obey her.

I shivered in my lingerie. The floorboards were cold under my bare feet. Adrian's gaze swept over me, resting longest between my legs where an undeniable heat was growing, across my chest where my heart was pounding, and finally at my throat. The scars there twinged under their maker's attentions. Adrian leaned forward on her hand and drummed her fingers across her cheek.

"Lovely." A sharp smile played at her lips. "Now turn. Slowly."

Slowly--unsteadily--I turned. Eye contact broken, I returned to myself a little, and the moment came into focus. She was appraising me, the same way she'd appraised my work. Just as my stomach had twisted into knots as she'd turned through my sketches, my heart flipped now that her eyes were on me. And it wasn't just that I wanted to be seen, I realized--I wanted to show her something. Of my own will. As much of it as was still mine.

Still facing away, I took a deep breath, and then unclasped my bra. The lacy straps tickled my arms as they slipped down my shoulders, and the garment fell to the floor with my other clothes. My fingers slipped under the band of my panties, and I slid them down. They turned inside out, revealing a patch of fresh wetness against the black lace, and those too I discarded. Between the chill air and the nerves, I was trembling. Gooseflesh raised along my limbs.

I finished my turn, eyes squeezed shut, body completely bare. "So...? Am I to your tastes?"

"Shall I taste you and find out?" Her voice was right at my ear and I was startled wide-eyed.

One cold hand stroked from my shoulder downwards, following the slope of my hip and settling at the small of my back, holding me tight to her. The other she pressed hard against my left breast, cupping me, squeezing my nipple between her knuckles. My heart leapt under her touch. Her breath was cool at the corner of my jaw and she hung there for an agonizing moment. I dared not breathe.

"I'm making you nervous." Still right at my ear. My blood crackled through my veins like electricity. "Aren't I?"

"Um... I'm nervous a lot," I hedged. "But... ah, yes. You are." I stood very still, brimming with anxiety and desire, and she was still, too, against me. "It's just... it's a bit different this time. Now that I know, it's a whole, um... anticipation thing..."

"Well, I find your anticipation to be rather exquisite." Now Adrian's lips were properly at my throat, and her hand slipped between my thighs, forcing my legs apart. Wetness welled up for her as she pressed her palm against my flushed skin.

"Exquisite...!" I squeaked. I grasped at the front of her shirt. A jolt went through my veins as her teeth prickled against my jugular.

"But perhaps that's an acquired taste, hm?" She straightened to her full height, and I had to tilt my head so far back to follow her. Her eyes burned like distant stars above me. "Let's see... how about I make you a promise?"

"A promise?"

Adrian tucked an errant twist of hair behind my ear, and then let her fingertips ghost down the side of my neck, over her marks. My pulse thrummed. Her expression rippled.

"Before I take what I need... I'll give you what you want. Do you believe that?'"

I nodded as I stared up at her. Of course I believed it. She'd promised.

I let out a long breath. She leant down and brushed her cool lips against mine. Then I was on my back on the chaise, pinned beneath her, and she was kissing me.

Adrian's body pressed down so tightly against me--my every gasping breath against her lips was ground I gained, ground she granted me. My legs were open and I rocked against her. She shifted down, getting her thigh between mine, and I took advantage of it, moving my hips in a tight circle. Oh, I was so wet... I was soaking into her jeans...

Just as the pressure against my chest was becoming overwhelming, I found I had room to breathe. Adrian's kisses trailed down until her mouth was at my breast. She toyed with me, pulling my nipple between her lips, and then, very carefully, between her teeth. I jumped at the rush of it--her sharp edges against my tender flesh.

She just laughed. Her kisses drifted further down my body, as gentle and cold as falling snow. Underneath my breasts, across my ribs, and over my stomach... I wove my fingers into her hair as she settled between my knees. She seized my hips and pulled me abruptly towards her so that my legs hung off the end of the chaise. The embroidery of the seat was embossing its patterns into my back. I was spread so wide for her, completely vulnerable--she arranged me so that my knees were over her shoulders.

Adrian gazed up at me. Dark lashes framed darker irises. Her lips were parted and her teeth were pointed and she was so hungry. It came off of her in waves.

She kissed my inner thigh, open-mouthed, teasing me with her tongue and her teeth. Slowly moved upwards. Hissed out a breath when she reached the crease of my thigh, where my wetness had spilled over. I squirmed against her, desperate for her to focus her attentions, but she held me down. Her eyes flicked up to meet mine again. "You'll be still for me."

"I'll be still." The muscles in my core trembled with the effort.

Her cool breath fell tantalizingly against my hot wetness. I clenched my hands in her hair. Be still.

The first caress of her tongue lit up my body. The second one dimmed my mind. She delved into my folds, pushing her tongue inside me, then dragging it up to my most sensitive spot. And the points of her teeth--they grazed all my most intimate places along the way, a delicious and dangerous contrast of sensations.

I could do nothing but hold myself steady as she took her time with me. At the end of each long lick she lingered, circling me insistently, and then for just a moment pressed down with the flat of her tongue. I wanted to gyrate my hips against her, and to be still; I wanted to squeeze my thighs around her, and to be still; I wanted to submit for her, and she wanted me to be still.

Adrian growled and the vibration trilled through my nerves. Her nails bit into the flesh of my thighs, and then one hand edged inwards until she was at my entrance. I drew in a quick breath as she teased inside of me with one finger, testing my limits, slicking herself with the wet heat of me.

My eyelids fluttered, but I couldn't look away from her. "Oh, God, Adrian..."

She slid into me fully, three fingers curling against my front wall. They twitched in a beckoning motion as her tongue undulated against me. And then she was thrusting, deep and steady, and I couldn't move, but I could be moved by her.

And oh, the way she controlled me--she knew exactly how to roll my hips, to bring me down against her just as I would have myself, were my body my own. She was relentless. The sweetest stroke of her tongue always came just as she raked her fingers across that most sensitive spot inside of me. Breaths fell faster and shallower and louder until every one was a ragged moan. My pulse beat against her tongue and under her marks at my throat.