The Clever Fox: Part Two (The Pleasure Hound Series) Read Free Page A

suffocate. All around her her skin was cracking and something was trying to break free from her soul. She couldn’t stop it.
    “Do we have a deal?”

Chapter Two

    Adom put the final brush stroke on the painting and sat back. Though white washed of its erotic foundations, the piece was marvelous: the Goddess giving birth to the sun. Adom felt the need to bow down to the canvas.
    There was no evidence of the suspension rig used to capture his muse in the perfect pose. Instead of beige twine wrapped at her wrists, green vines ensnared the arms of the woman in the painting. The woman in the painting had a different skin hue than his muse. Her breasts were smaller than what Adom could spy beneath Alyss’ clothing. Her waist was narrower and her hips were drawn with more flare. But it was the expression on her face that relayed the truth of her identity.
    Alyss had been enraptured when he’d roped and suspended her. Adom had known she would be, likely from the first day he’d seen her at Jian’s home when she’d instructed him on the colors of his paintings. In his experience, bossy women craved domination. Not to put them down or make them feel weak. Bondage and suspension worked to free the individual at their deepest level. Back then, at Jian’s, it was as though Alyss’ soul had called to him and begged him to free her from her stifling cage, from the burdens laid on her shoulders.
    For months, the only release Adom could give her was in the way he painted her. But the other night, with each loop he made around her wrists, with every tug of the rope, he’d freed her. If only for a short time.
    He knew she needed more, craved it. He’d seen it in her eyes. He’d captured it in his work. Her face was at the same time slack and firm. Her head tilted to reveal her soul-centeredness. Her eyes closed to reveal her spirit’s openness. Sensations bubbled in Adom’s chest at the memory of the feel of her hands as he released her, the disappointment in her eyes when her weight returned to her, the eagerness beneath her lashes, the hope that came out on her breath. She needed more and Adom wanted to give it to her.
    His eyes rose to her hands in the painting. They were suspended above her head, wrists constricted, fingers falling free from the tension. The sight of Alyss’ suspended hands even now made his dick hard. Adom looked away from the painting. Even if he were ever allowed to paint her, or bind her again, sex could never be a part of the equation. Not with his proclivities.
    His hands itched, his heart ached that he couldn’t give her what she needed. But it was now impossible. He would not betray Emet. Emet, who Adom loved with every bit of his heart, was his world.
    Adom stood and prepared to move the painting aside. His memory and imagination would have to serve him from here on out. A sound at the door to his studio had him turning.
    In the door stood Emet. Before Emet stood Alyss. Her eyes were rapt to the painting in his hands. She stepped forward, arms stretching out. Her breaths were heavy. Moisture pricked the edges of her eyes. She reached her hand out but pulled away before her fingertips met the canvas. She looked up at Adom. Her mouth worked, but no words escaped. They didn’t need to. Adom felt the same way about their work. And it was their work. He could not have done this without her.
    But why was she here now? With Emet?
    Adom had barred the storefront door and hid in his studio like a coward, uncertain if he could turn her away when she came to him. It could only have been Emet who let her in.
    But why?
    Behind Alyss, Emet cleared his throat. Adom tore his eyes away from his muse and focused on his bondmate. There was censure written across his features.
    “Lady Alyss and I have come to an agreement.”  
    Adom’s heartbeat picked up, keeping a steady rhythm so that his ears missed none of Emet’s words.
    “She may sit for you again.”
    Adom looked down to Alyss who beamed with pure joy.