Page 117 of Their Master

“I would like you to sit for me.”

Smith blinked. “You want to paint me?”

“I want to sketch you, and anything I draw will belong to me. But if I end up painting you then I will offer you first right of refusal.”

Smith chuckled. “You’ve certainly taken my measure, haven’t you, my lord?”

Selkirk merely smiled.

“I would be honored to sit for you,” he said, not bothering to beat about the bush when they both knew bloody well that he would love it.

“Excellent. How about right now? If you have time.”

Smith hesitated, a bit startled, but took out his watch. “I have an hour before I need to be somewhere. Would that be enough time?”

“That all depends on you, Mr. Smith.” Selkirk turned to the woman still kneeling beside his chair. “I’d like to sketch you while Ten pleasures you.”

The man had a knack for shocking him. “I beg your pardon, but did you sayten?”

“Yes, her name is Ten. I will make sketches until you orgasm. The number of sketches I make is, therefore, up to you.”

Smith laughed. “You have managed to surprise me twice in as many minutes, my lord.” He looked at the woman—Ten. Her gaze was as opaque as her master’s. “I pride myself on my self-control… Ten.”

There was a flicker of something that looked like humor in her brown eyes.

“Ten will test your restraint,” Selkirk said, his long, slender fingers wrapping around the woman’s throat and lightly stroking.

Ten’s eyelids gave the faintest flutter at his touch.

The made an attractive pair and Smith couldn’t help staring.

Selkirk dropped his hand. “Strip and go to Mr. Smith.”

Ten’s hands went to the high buttons of her gown.

Smith couldn’t help wondering about the relationship between these two, but suspected the earl was not the sort to share such details—even if he clearly didn’t mind sharing his lover.

Selkirk picked up his sketchpad and took a fresh piece of charcoal out of a tin while the woman calmly disrobed.

Smith shifted so that his cock wasn’t jammed into his thigh and then relaxed and enjoyed the sight of her gracefully removing her bodice, skirt, petticoats, cage, corset, and chemise—no drawers—leaving only her plain white stockings, simple garters, and sturdy black ankle boots.

Once she was naked, she lowered herself between Smith’s spread feet with the same grace that she did everything and unfastened his trousers with deft fingers, freeing his erect cock.

Smith hissed when Ten’s cool, strong hand wrapped around his shaft.

He looked up and found Selkirk staring at his erection. The other man lifted his darkened gaze to Smith’s and gave him a long, smoldering look before he began to sketch.

Smith’s breathing quickened as Ten worked him withexactlythe right pressure, her thumb teasing his frenulum with each stroke, dragging her short nail over his leaking slit and using his moisture to slick his shaft.

He forced his hands to relax on the arms of the chair rather than sink into her hair. His eyelids drifted shut when her other hand slid beneath his cock to massage his balls.

“Yes,” he muttered, pulsing his hips slightly and fucking into her tight, slick fist.

Hot, damp breath was the only warning he had before she took him into her mouth.

Smith opened his eyes and stared down, locking gazes with her as she made love to the fat crown, her plush lips kissing and sucking at his slit while her hand pumped him with firm strokes from root to tip.

She swallowed him deeper, her jaws stretching wide to accommodate more.

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