Elena woke to the taste of Alexander still thick on her tongue, salt and smoke and something darker that clung like guilt. The narrow bed smelled of sex and lemon polish. She lay on her stomach, thighs sticky, faint bruises blooming where his fingers had dug in. Sunlight knifed through the slit window, cutting across the ruined uniform on the floor. She smiled slow, stretched like a cat, and felt every delicious ache answer back.
Shower scalded her clean, but the marks stayed: faint beard burn on inner thighs, a thumbprint purple at her hip. She traced them in the fogged mirror and whispered his name just to feel the shiver. Fresh uniform today: black dress pressed crisp, apron starched until it could slice bread. She left the top two buttons undone, cleavage a deliberate invitation. The lace panties Victoria had worn two nights ago now lived in her pocket, soft and accusing.
Elevator up. Cart wheels sang over marble. The penthouse greeted her with hush, city humming far below. She started in the breakfast nook, wiping counters that still carried the ghost of last night's silver. Every surface gleamed innocent, but she knew better. She bent low to reach the back splash, skirt riding high, cool air kissing the places Alexander had claimed. A soft sound behind her made her freeze.
Victoria stood in the doorway, silk kimono the color of spilled merlot, hair loose and wild from sleep. Eyes traveled Elena's body slow, possessive. "You glow this morning," she murmured, voice honey over broken glass.
"Hard work," Elena answered, straightening. Cheeks warm.
Victoria crossed the room barefoot, robe parting to flash thigh, the glint of sapphire piercing low on her belly. She stopped inches away, lifted a finger to Elena's collarbone. Traced the faint red mark Alexander's beard had left. "He was thorough."
Elena's breath caught. Victoria's smile curved wicked. "Don't look so shocked, darling. These walls are thin and I sleep light." She leaned in, lips brushing Elena's ear. "I listened to every scream."
Heat flooded Elena's core. Victoria pulled back, eyes glittering. "Come to the gallery at ten. I need a second pair of hands for the new installation."
Elena nodded mute. Victoria kissed the corner of her mouth, quick and claiming, then vanished down the hall, robe fluttering like a flag of surrender.
The morning blurred. She dusted the library shelves, mind replaying Victoria's words. Listened. Every scream. She polished the grand staircase banister until it shone like wet skin, thighs rubbing together with each stroke. Julian emerged at nine-thirty, hoodie rumpled, eyes puffy from code. He paused when he saw her bent over the railing, skirt stretched tight across her ass.
"Morning," he said, voice rough.
She glanced back, smiled slow. "Coffee's fresh."
He hesitated, then stepped close. Hand settled on her lower back, tentative. "You okay? After... everything?"
She turned in the circle of his arm, pressed against him. Felt his instant hardness. "Better than okay." She kissed him soft, morning-sweet. He sighed into her mouth, hands sliding to cup her ass.
"Mom wants you in the gallery," he whispered against her lips.
"I know." She nipped his bottom lip. "Save me a seat at lunch?"
He nodded, dazed. She left him flushed and adjusting himself behind the banister.
Ten o'clock sharp. The gallery wing breathed cool and quiet, canvases looming like silent judges. Victoria waited on a ladder, barefoot in paint-splattered overalls cut high on the thighs. A massive abstract dominated the far wall: crimson slashes bleeding into gold, raw and violent. She glanced down as Elena entered, smile sharp.
"Perfect timing. Hold this." She handed down a cordless drill. Elena took it, fingers brushing Victoria's calf. Smooth skin, faint tremor.
They worked in charged silence. Elena passed tools, steadied frames, climbed the ladder when Victoria descended. Their bodies brushed constant: breast against arm, hip against hip. Each contact sparked. Victoria's hand lingered on Elena's waist longer than balance required. Elena's thumb traced the inside of Victoria's wrist when handing screws.
The final canvas hung heavy, chains rattling. Victoria stepped back, head tilted. "Something's off." She moved close, adjusted the wire millimeter by millimeter. Her body pressed full against Elena's back, breasts soft against shoulder blades. "Feel that?"
Elena felt everything. Victoria's nipples hard through thin denim, the heat between her legs radiating. "Yes," she breathed.
Victoria's arms slid around Elena's waist, hands splaying over her stomach. "I listened last night," she repeated, lips at Elena's ear. "Heard him split you open. Heard you beg." Teeth grazed the lobe. "I came twice just from the sound."
Elena whimpered. Victoria's hand dipped lower, cupping her mound through the dress. "Soaked already. Greedy girl."
She spun Elena sudden, pushed her against the freshly hung canvas. Paint still wet, cool and slick against Elena's back. Victoria claimed her mouth brutal, tongue fucking deep. Hands shoved the dress up to Elena's waist, apron strings tangling. Fingers found the lace panties, ripped them aside.
"These are mine," Victoria growled, pocketing the torn scrap. "You don't wear underwear in my gallery."
Elena nodded frantic. Victoria dropped to her knees, overalls pooling at her waist. Mouth latched onto Elena's clit without warning, sucking hard. Elena screamed, hands flying to dark hair. Victoria's tongue lashed merciless, two fingers plunging deep, curling immediate.
The canvas rocked behind them, paint smearing across Elena's shoulders, cool and sticky. Victoria added a third finger, stretching. Thumb pressed Elena's asshole, circling wet. She breached slow, knuckle deep. Elena's legs buckled.
"Hold the chains," Victoria ordered.
Elena grabbed the hanging chains, knuckles white. Victoria stood, mouth glistening, and unhooked the overalls completely. Naked beneath, body a sculpture of lean muscle and soft curves. Sapphire piercing winked between slick folds. She grabbed a remote from the workbench, pressed a button. The canvas lowered on silent motors until Elena hung suspended, feet barely touching floor.
Victoria stepped between her spread thighs, scissoring instant. Clits met slick, grinding hard. They both moaned loud. Victoria's hands gripped Elena's ass, pulling tighter. Paint transferred everywhere, crimson streaks across breasts, gold on hips.
"Fuck me," Elena begged.
Victoria reached for a strap-on harness on the shelf, thick black silicone, ridged and monstrous. She buckled it swift, slicked it with lube from a hidden drawer. Positioned the head at Elena's entrance, paused.
"Look at me."
Elena met her eyes, wild and dark. Victoria thrust deep in one stroke. Elena screamed, chains rattling. The canvas swung gentle with each punishing thrust. Victoria's hips snapped relentless, cock hitting cervix with every drive.
"You take it so well," Victoria praised, voice ragged. "My perfect little muse."
She reached between them, thumb on Elena's clit, rubbing vicious circles. Elena's walls fluttered, climax coiling vicious. Victoria leaned in, bit her neck hard enough to bruise.
"Come on my cock. Paint me."
Elena shattered, squirting hard around the silicone, arcs splashing Victoria's stomach, dripping to the floor. Victoria followed seconds later, grinding deep, own release soaking thighs. She held Elena through the tremors, kissing tears from her cheeks.
The canvas stilled. Victoria lowered it gentle, unhooked Elena's wrists. They collapsed to the drop cloth in a tangle of limbs and paint. Victoria peeled the harness slow, set it aside. Curled around Elena possessive, fingers tracing the mess on her skin.
"You're art now," she whispered.
They lay panting, city light shifting across their bodies. Victoria fetched warm wet cloths from the sink, cleaned Elena tender. Every stroke reverent. She dressed her careful, buttoning the dress over paint-streaked skin.
"Leave the marks," she said. "I want them to see."
Elena nodded, throat tight. Victoria kissed her slow, lingering. "Lunch in an hour. Wear the bruises proud."
She left Elena standing in the gallery, canvas behind her forever changed: crimson and gold now swirled with handprints, thigh smears, the unmistakable outline of breasts pressed in ecstasy.
Elena finished the hanging details on autopilot, body humming. She caught her reflection in a polished frame: paint in her hair, lips swollen, eyes feral. She smiled wicked.
Lunch. The family gathered in the sunlit dining room. Alexander's gaze snapped to the bruises on her neck, the paint flecks on her collar. Eyes darkened instant. Julian noticed next, fork pausing halfway to his mouth. Victoria entered last, serene in white linen, sapphire choker gleaming.
Conversation flowed surface: stock prices, code bugs, upcoming gala. Under the table, Victoria's bare foot found Elena's again, sliding high to press between her thighs. No panties. Elena bit her lip to hide the gasp. Alexander's hand settled on her knee opposite, squeezing possessive. Julian watched wide-eyed, hand disappearing under the table to adjust himself.
Dessert: fresh figs split open, honey dripping. Victoria fed Elena one slow, letting juice run down her chin. Alexander leaned over, licked it clean, tongue deliberate. Julian's breath hitched audible.
Dishes cleared. Elena retreated shaking. Afternoon chores blurred: folding laundry that smelled of all three now, polishing mirrors that reflected her ruined mouth. She came twice in the laundry room, fingers frantic, biting a towel to stay quiet.
Evening. Family scattered again. Elena slipped into the gallery alone, drawn irresistible. The canvas hung center stage, their bodies immortalized in paint and release. She touched it reverent, fingers tracing the outline of Victoria's hip.
Midnight message from Victoria: Studio. Bring the harness.
Elena obeyed, heart slamming. The night stretched endless, another layer of paint, another scream swallowed by art.