However, the rusty chain behind my back, running from my shackled wrists, over my bottom and down to the huge stone was very real. I looked at him, hi... eyes roaming over my naked flesh. I was his model to be turned into bronze. He lit another foul smelling cheroot and came over to me, he was ancient like his studio, neglected and dusty, yet his hand created beauty. I felt his cold calloused fingers touch my skin as he lifted my left breast, my nipple eager for the same touch. He smiled his. There is that smile again. Alex lifts his left hand, but stops to look me in the eye, as if silently asking permission to touch me. I find his consideration surprisingly sweet, considering the fact that it comes from a man twice my size cornering my nude body against his. His hand touches my cheek first in a gesture of tenderness. His thumb traces my bottom lip and I’m tempted to suck it, but I’m not sure that’s what he wants yet. His hand lowers to my neck, my shoulder, my arm, my hand, my. More

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