Damian still stood at her back, shielding her even though no one was directly behind her. Shannon glanced over to the sleeper sofa. Hunter's pet watched her with curiosity, though she seemed like she might drift off at any moment.
She seemed so sweet and vulnerable. And Hunter seemed to adore her. Did other people see that dynamic when they looked at Shannon and Lindsay? She wasn't sure.
“Kitten, do you trust me?”
“Yes, Master.” She did trust him but that didn't make his request any more reasonable.
“Take off the dress and panties,” he said, his voice becoming more stern.
She couldn't bring herself to do it. There were too many people in the room. Someone would gasp when they saw her back, and then everything would stop. She just knew it would. And then she'd have all the wrong kind of attention.
She felt Damian's hands move to gently caress either side of her throat above the collar. Then he'd pushed the straps off her shoulders. The dress fell to her waist, exposing her breasts. Nobody stopped the activities they were engaged in. The only eyes on her across the room now were Lindsay's and the artist's.
Damian stroked and cupped her breasts, his mouth finding the curve of her neck and placing a kiss there. His hands slowly trailed down her sides until they reached her hips and he pushed the dress the rest of the way down until it pooled at her feet.
She wore a delicate black thong made of sheer, barely-there material. The scrap of lingerie was held together by ribbons that had been tied into very small bows, so small they hadn't shown through the dress. Damian didn't carefully remove these like he had the dress. Instead he ripped the panties off her with one quick jerk, exposing her bare waxed pussy to Lindsay and the artist's gaze.
Hunter's pet watched as well, but Shannon didn't concern herself with the woman. Something had passed between her and the other woman, and she knew that girl would never judge her for anything. She felt safe under her gaze. But not so much under Hunter's. Or even Lindsay's. Not in this moment. Both men were far too intense for safety.
Damian took her hand and helped her out of the puddle of red fabric. He led her over to stand under the spotlight where the artist wanted her and then he fell back to stand next to Lindsay, both of them now still and quiet, waiting on the artist.
Hunter approached her slowly, his gaze never leaving hers. When he reached her, he closed his eyes and ran his hands over her face as if a blind man seeking to see her in a different way. His eyes remained closed as he stroked her hair, her throat, her shoulders, her breasts, her belly, and hips, between her legs. He worked his way down the entire length of her until he'd touched every inch of her front.
She squeezed her eyes shut as his fingertips grazed the scars that wrapped around to the front.
He righted himself and opened his eyes as if he'd unlocked her innermost secrets with this tactile exploration of her body. Then he drank her in visually. Every inch of her. He stared so hard into her eyes that she flinched and had to fight not to take a step back. Suddenly this man seemed terrifying, and she wondered if his pet had seen this dark side of him. This greedy side that wanted to possess and own everything his gaze fell upon.
That hungry dark gaze drifted down to her breasts and lingered there for a long while as he tweaked her nipples into erect points. He tasted her there, running his tongue across each nipple, sucking first one, then the other into his mouth.
Shannon had forgotten how to breathe and took in a sharp gasp of air when she remembered again. No one had ever looked at her in this way before. The intensity of his eyes upon her felt like a sharp searing burn against each inch of her flesh he memorized.
His gaze fell to the spot between her legs.
“Hold her open for me.”
Damian was the one who moved to answer that command. He stood behind her, spreading her legs and angling and holding her open in a lewd way so that Hunter could see every line and curve that had previously been hidden from him.
The artist pressed a finger inside her and she moaned, her head falling back as she forgot for a moment the all-consuming way he'd just looked at her.
He withdrew the finger and she whimpered at the lost contact. He held her gaze trapped in his as he tasted her, sucking the finger that had just been inside her into his mouth.
Hunter turned and went back to his easel. Shannon let out a breath, thinking he was finished, but he returned with a thick-handled paint brush. It looked new. Damian still held her open for him as he dragged the brush carefully over her pussy as though he were painting her. As if he were memorizing the exact contours between her legs.
He flipped the brush around and pushed the thick smooth handle inside her, slowly fucking her with it. She moaned again as Damian held her for Hunter to play with. But he didn't let her come. He withdrew the handle from her body and turned to Damian.
“Turn her around.”
She knew Hunter must see the fear in her eyes. The last thing in the world she wanted was for someone like this man, this calculating, obsessive, details-oriented man to look at her back in the same intense way he'd looked at the rest of her. Because when he did, he would find her wanting, lacking. He would take one look, lose all interest in painting her, and unceremoniously pack his art supplies up and leave.
She fought Damian as he tried to turn her. “No!”
“Shhhh,” Damian said, petting her hair. “He won't hurt you.”
She wasn't afraid he'd physically hurt her. She was afraid of the cutting words that would come out of his mouth when he saw the scars Brian had made. But Damian was stronger than her and turned her around so that Hunter could look at her back.
The artist swept her hair to the side and there was a long pause where eternity flooded into the space of the room like the ocean tide. Finally it seemed to recede again leaving a new and deeper stillness behind.
Then the artist's hands were on her, stroking her. She had no idea what he'd done with that paintbrush because both of his hands carefully ran over her back, not just the scars, all of her. They cupped and stroked her ass and the cleft between her cheeks, the backs of her thighs, and all the way down her legs.
His finger traced a little pattern she couldn't discern over her right hip as if he were placing some imaginary brand on her. Then he was kissing and licking the lines across her back. The brush trailed gently over each scar after his mouth was finished exploring them.
“Lindsay,” he said.
He must have motioned because Lindsay came over and then there was some whispering she couldn't hear. Footsteps receded, a box in a far corner opened. Footsteps returned.
“Kiss her,” Hunter said to Damian.
Damian's hand wrapped around the back of her neck, pulling her forward, his mouth fiercely claiming hers, taking all her attention away from the artist until the cane landed in a sharp sting across her ass.
She yelped and jerked away from Damian's kiss. Hunter struck her again.
“Cry for me,” he demanded.
She looked to Lindsay who only nodded. She would have wondered why Lindsay was allowing all of this... why was he letting this stranger come in and take control of her? But Lindsay stood, his arms crossed over his chest, just taking it all in, looking absolutely and completely in control of the situation. So whatever reason this was happening, it was Lindsay's reason. And somehow that settled her.