Letter to the Artist Ch. 01

She was pinned under his intense and mocking gaze. She watched him shift the heavy item under one arm, huge muscles buldged and worked to hold onto the vase while his other arm opened and held the wide and heavy door.

For one fleeting moment, she imagined what it would be like to be held tightly under those arms. She immediately discarded the thought, but it seemed much too late. The proud look she saw in his eyes told her that he understood her thought.

Arrogant bastard, Jac thought, as she haughtily entered through the gallery door. A door which he held open for her, not because he was obligated to, but because she commanded him to.

The moment she entered the gallery and her eyes met the art, she forgot everything. She forgot Jerzy Gorszewski, she forgot the stranger, and she forgot everything. There was only art.

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This woman had been taunting him for the last ten minutes. From the seductive sway of her hips to the intoxicating fragrance that wafted in the warm summer breeze as he followed close behind. She seemed so innocent of her effects on him. No woman had ever had the power to torment him until now.

It was not until the moment that she dropped the key that he understood. She truly had no idea until this moment. He drank in her perfect breasts bound in an erotic black lacy bra, her slender arms reaching for the keys with delicate fingers, her long and sexy legs and the swell of her pert bottom. He did not miss her sudden realization and her purposeful pause. He knew then and there that she, too, wanted him.

Jerzy did Jac's bidding with the thought that she would lose to him, despite her ministrations, and that he would have her. He wanted to smile widely at Jac's reaction upon seeing his work. It was as if he never existed. He had to stop this for now before she lost her excitement and momentum.

"Where do you want these?" he said without a trace of emotion.

Jac was broken from her trance by the clear and concise voice that was from the stranger. It was the first time she had truly heard him speak. It sounded vaguely familiar, but Jac ignored the thought. Instead she retrieved her check book from her purse and scribbled quickly.

"Here's $3.75," Jac waved the check to his face without looking at him, clearly irritated with his interruption. "It's been exactly 15 minutes. Once you do the math, you'll know that my rate is correct. Now dispose of those in the trash bin inside Jonathan Marshall's office."

Without eye contact, Jerzy took the check with amusement. She seemed so engrossed with the work that she wasn't even trying to be rude, but managed to do so anyway. He did as he was told and was glad to be rid of that horrendous bouquet of flowers. Not because he was jealous of the sender. He was glad to be rid of them because they were visually offensive. The sender was of no consequence to him for it came from the pitiful Jonathan Marshall.

Jac was instantly drawn to the installations. There was a delicious thrill that coursed through her veins and into her core upon seeing his work for the first time. The works intimated raw and violent intensity in its purest form. There was not a single ounce of tenderness in his work. Somehow, she knew that he understood her.

Jerzy leaned against one of the distant walls and watched this woman inspect his work. He saw her face contort with emotions, her eyes fill with thought. He watched her heaving chest, the pulse on her neck. He knew that she understood fully.

Jac nearly jumped at finding the man still inside the gallery, watching her with those devilish green eyes. "Now what on Earth could you still possibly be doing here? This should be of no interest to you. After all, you're only a laborer. You couldn't possibly begin to understand all this," Jac said in plain mockery as she insulted him to hide her startled and emotional state.

Jerzy did not reply. He simply watched her in silence.

Jac focused her attention on another work. His presence irritated her and his silence drew her mad. "Come here," she commanded. "Look at this one closely," she pointed at a particular piece as he approached her.

"Do you know what critics would say? They would say every known adjective. Beautiful! Ah! Pristine! Blah, blah, blah, amazing!" Her tone was mocking of her mindless constituents. She took a momentary pause to look at the work before speaking once more. "But they would never say violent. That word is banned from the press."

"Do you see the tension in these lines? It's violent, isn't it? It's completely void of tenderness," she spoke with a tone of admiration, but she cringed at the last word.

Jerzy broke his silence. He noticed her disdain for the word tenderness. "What do you have against affection?"

Jac picked up a slight accent from the way he said the words 'against' and 'affection', but it was too subtle for her to identify.

Jac laughed at his question. "People give it away so easily, without thought. It's really quite repulsive," she paused again realizing having said too much already.

She began to move towards the back part of the gallery, but in doing so accidentally brushed against his side. She was momentarily stunned at the heat he was emanating and how much her heart began to race. She quickly walked past him.

"Now look at that one," she said pointing to the massive piece. "Every tension, every line fighting for dominance, everything is planned. Everything well thought out. Could you imagine the hard work, the painstaking detail to get just one angle precisely correct?" Jac felt lively speaking about the work, but suddenly fell silent upon a thought. "Affection?" She said quietly to herself. "What good is affection when it is so easily attainable?"

Jerzy wanted to kiss her passionately then and there and marvel at her sweetness as he explored her body. He heard her devotion and understanding for his work. He wanted to give into his urges, but he knew to do so would revile her. He would to have to follow his plan precisely.

"This artist, you like him very much, yes?" Jerzy was subtly moving her towards the back by simply inching closer to her every chance he got.

"Like him?" Jac laughed. "I hate him!"

"Why?" Jerzy had now cornered her without her even realizing it.

Jac started off into the distance as if pondering the question. Then, very quietly, she replied in vulnerability. "Because he understands me."

Jac finally looked up, after a silent pause, and realized her current predicament. She looked up at her stranger as his large body trapped her in the corner wall of the gallery. His once fiery green eyes were now inflamed with intense desire that clearly spoke his calculated intent.

She made a move to walk past him, but her face only met his chest. She tried to move past him again, but he blocked her all the same. Jac looked up with anger in her eyes. "Move!" she commanded.

Jerzy only shook his head as he trapped her under his gaze. "I said move!" Jac now pushed him with her arms, with all her might, but it was useless to move a mountain. Despite her anger, she could not help but marvel at the feel of his firm muscles under her hands. For a brief moment, beneath her outrage, she wondered how it would feel to run her hands against his bare chest. Suddenly, she felt moisture pooling between her legs. Dear God, I think I want this. She stepped back as if to deny her sudden thought and to move away from the heat of his body, but she was met by a solid wall against her back.

In that moment, she felt tiny and powerless because she knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her and hated the fact that she couldn't stop him if he seduced her. She began to hit and punch at his chest with blind rage, her only method of fighting back at this point. Suddenly, she wanted to be free of him, to get away from his heated eyes and strong body that were sending her to a level of arousal that she had never felt in her entire life.

Instead of letting her go, he quickly grabbed her arms and pinned her against the wall with a frightening grip. Jac had a fleeting thought that she should be terrified, that she should scream, but nothing came out. Instead she met his crazed look that continued to fuel her arousal and challenged him to do his best.

He held her tight against his body and stared down intently at her, surprised when she suddenly stopped fighting him. He wanted her to feel his power, how easily he could crush her, how helpless she was against him. That there was no way she could fight him in anyway and this acceptance was throwing the balance off. He needed her to accept this, not challenge him further. He needed her lost in passion and begging for him to take what he knew was his.

Jac's eyes widened at being handled so roughly. She held his gaze and held still, coiled in tension, as she felt her body flushed against the hard and muscular contours of his large body. She felt his large hands crushing her arms, as if ready to mold and destroy her as his own. Her eyes widened even more at the realization that he could easily conquer her, without reserve.

Jac's eyes widened when his large hand ran down the side of her torso as if he were claiming her as some prize. There was a thrill at being possessed by another being, something so foreign to her that she decided in that moment that she wanted this – right or wrong – she wanted to be dominated for the first time. She held his gaze and remained motionless while he continued to explore her body as he pinned her against the wall.

While he did so, he leaned his own frame closer to her, so she could feel the hard, muscles beneath his jeans and his throbbing erection as he pressed into her soft body. Jac had never felt this way before. She was on fire and needed him to keep touching her in places no man had ever touched before. She knew she should fight, but she couldn't, she wanted it too much.

She had accepted moments ago that he could take her on his own even if she denied him, but she didn't. She wanted this and wanted whoever he was to ravage her until she screamed herself hoarse. How fitting that she felt this passion amongst Jerzy's art, for that was the only other thing in this world that awoke any passion in her at all.

So Jac accepted his power play, decided to give up and let him claim her. In her mind she envisioned this was her Jerzy and that only sent more moisture to her already sopping core. Jerzy, her artist. She tilted her head back and exhaled as his hand had worked under her dress and was now caressing her bare skin along her thighs and ass.

When he encountered her panties and ran his thick finger under the lace, Jac's head snapped forward until she saw the raw need in his eyes. There was something there that touched her soul and she unknowingly wiggled her hips in response for him to take it, take it all.

Jerzy saw the realization in her eyes and grinned with a feral hunger of one about to devour their prey like a predator. He was consumed with his need for her now that he was touching her, feeling her warmth. He wanted her like he'd never wanted a woman before and was extremely pleased she had let him win this little power game they had been playing.

One sad thought did find its way into his mind at that moment causing him to pause momentarily – she was giving this to a stranger and not him as himself. That truth was not part of the plan though and would come later. For now, he needed to finish what he started and knew she was his, so he claimed what belonged to him.

He quickly crushed his mouth against hers with a passionate kiss that left no room to question who was in charge here. She closed her lips tightly because she felt that dominance and feebly resisted. But the moment his soft tongue pressed against her lips, licking gently while he waited for her to accept, Jac crumbled. Her body responded before her mind and her lips parted enough so this man could claim her mouth in the most primal kiss she'd ever imagined.

Jac moaned against his lips and wished once more that this was Jerzy. She let her fantasy soar as her stranger dueled tongues with her. His hands gripped her hips firmly; grinding her body into his while he devoured her with his mouth.

He pushed her up against the wall, her legs dangling above the ground with only his body to hold her up. Jac fell limp and averted her eyes. He grabbed her jaw and gently, almost tenderly forced her to look him straight in the eyes, making sure she didn't look away, "Watch me," he whispered arrogantly sending a thrill of excitement through Jac. He stared at her alluring brown eyes intently for what seemed like an eternity, conveying to her his calculated intentions. Jac knew in that one look that she was in trouble, but she was not sure if she was in danger or not. He looked feral in a sexy way and that only further advanced her need for him to claim her. In that moment, she decided that she would fight him in a different manner.

He kissed her again, with his hand still gripping her jaw. It was not a tender kiss. It was possessive and conquering. His grip on her jaw only tightened. Jac was not fighting him anymore, not in the usual force of resistance. She was fighting and defying him through forcefulness of her kisses. She felt powerful and liberated because of it.

He was taken with the force and intensity of her kisses as if she was trying to dominate the situation. He realized then that she was fighting him. He wanted to smile at her valiant effort. The little minx!He became even more vicious and feral with his kissing, letting her know that in no way she would ever win this power play. His skillful tongue was inside her once more and the pleasure that shot through her was like none that she had experienced before.

He was rough with her mouth, biting and sucking and licking all there was to her. He was everything but tender and affectionate and this further intensified her experience. She knew she was sick and demented for enjoying his rough treatment. A subtle sound slipped past her lips and he took advantage of that moan to consume more of her. The feel of his tongue battling against her was so delicious. Now she realized what women talked about.

Suddenly her hands grabbed and caressed his face. It was not for dominance but simply for her needs. She wanted more of him, his lips, his mouth, his tongue closer to her. She suddenly remembered her fantasy of kissing her Jerzy. She could not help the moan that escaped her lips.

At the sound of her delicious moan, Jerzy grabbed her legs and wrapped them around his waist. He marveled at the heat coming from her center and ground his painfully hard and throbbing cock against her moist heat.

Jac realized her lewd position, his hard length throbbing against her. Before she could internalize what was happening, she was unceremoniously dropped on one of the ground installations. She realized where she was, but more importantly, what she was on. She scrambled to get off the piece but he was much too quick for her.

Jerzy smiled at her realization of where he'd dropped her and also at her weak attempt to fight him. He watched her swift effort to scramble off of his piece, as if it burned her. He didn't allow her to move much farther than the end of the wooden canvas when he pinned her against his art work. He straddled her thighs and held her arms above her head using one of his strong hands. She was glorious in this position, pulled tight and wiggling. It was driving him insane with need. A part of him hated being this rough, but he knew the rules of this game if he wanted the ultimate prize.

Jac struggled to be free. She focused more on getting off of the art work than escaping his grasp. Her struggle only made her dress hike up her waist which revealed her black lace bikini thong. He hardened even more at the sight of her underwear and the way she squirmed against his hard length.

Jerzy pinned her with his gaze, commanding her to stop her struggle and surrender to him. Still she struggled, pleading with her eyes; she begged him to violate her anywhere. Anywhere, but on the art work. His gaze only increased in intensity. "Stop fighting. I can smell you."

Jac had never felt pure terror until that moment. To be forced to face her worst fear and surrender to a man terrified her to the point of panic. It wasn't the act of having sex. It wasn't even the fact she was about to lose her virginity. It was the fact he demanded she surrender to him completely.

He licked his finger and parted her damp panties only to drive his middle finger inside of her. She was impossibly tight. He played with her clit and saw the pain and pleasure cross her face. He wanted to drive her mad with lust and punish her with his deft fingers at the same time.

At first she resisted him, but realized all too quickly that his violating fingers were pleasurable. She imagined Jerzy's rough and calloused fingers inside of her and when she felt a second finger inside slip inside, she could not help but moan. She was now gyrating absentmindedly to his questing fingers. With Jac mindless with pleasure, Jerzy began to unbuckle himself with his free hand.

Jac absentmindedly grabbed onto his hands, driving him on further inside of her without realizing the effect it would have on him. Jerzy felt her walls quivering against his fingers and so he inserted his third one and watched her face intently. He pushed and pulled his three fingers mercilessly inside of her until she was close to cumming. And just when she was on the brink of shattering, he pulled his fingers away from her.

"Not yet," he said in a voice dripping with desire. He gave her body one more possessive look before he pulled down her damp panties and swiftly drove himself inside her tight walls without heed of the barrier within her. He watched a million emotions cross her once cold and listless face. Good God she had climaxed from his entry and he'd never seen anything as beautiful as Jac Carlson falling apart speared on his cock. A smile of utter pleasure lifted his sensual lips as he realized he'd truly won, for he had finally shattered her frozen defense.

He had felt the resistance as his large cock possessed her scalding hot pussy. She screamed, both from having experienced an orgasm and the pain of being taken for the first time. The tears that escaped her eyes and her pain-contorted face, despite the orgasm she just experienced, only confirmed his belief that Jac Carlson was a virgin.

These realizations made Jerzy feel like the devil himself, but then again, he didn't plan on letting her go, so was this really that horrible of an act? She'd never be with anyone else but him if he had anything to say about it, so this really was his own way of branding her his. His Jac. His writer.

For the first time in several years, Jac was able to feel pure unadulterated emotion. It was pain, it was fear, it was excitement. To be conquered for the first time by a man worthy of her insolence. She knew, in the back of her mind, that he could be her Jerzy. She tried her best not to cry at the pain of his intrusion, but lost miserably.

Jerzy felt terrible for having caused her pain. He wanted to kiss her tears away and hold her and console her, but he could not afford to weaken or show signs of tenderness and affection. He had never been in so much pain at seeing the woman he loved, yes loved, being in pain and being helpless about it. This was the hardest thing he ever had to do. To hide his emotions from the woman he wanted to share everything with. This act of severity was harder than any precise and calculated art piece he had ever done.

Jerzy had also never felt such violent possession until that very moment. To be the conqueror of her very being drove him to near insanity. He knew, then and there, that he would have her forever. Not once did he break his gaze. He didn't move despite his most basic urges. He was deathly still, like a thief in the night and allowed her to feel his hard length and wide girth. He allowed her to feel his power over her.