Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 54103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54103 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
She digs her fingers into my chest, her mouth opening in a cry of near release. Unlike our first time, she doesn’t have to be quiet. She bounces faster and harder, making my manhood feel like it’s on fire with blazing hunger.
Her mouth has contorted into a shape of pleasure, her eyelids fluttering. I stare in awe, in appreciation, in disbelief that this woman belongs to me. I smooth my hands from her ass to her back, then sit up so we’re rocking together, our bodies pressed close.
“I.” She gasps. “Love.” Her moans are addictive. “You.”
“I—love—argh…”
I roar as I feel my lust rushing up my shaft, gathering at my tip in an eruption of need. She comes at the same time, the walls of her pussy pulsing around my dick, massaging my release from me.
I kiss her firmly on the lips. In the final moments of our shared pleasure, we fuse. And we do the impossible – we fall deeper in love.
When we’re done, I fall onto the bed, guiding her with me. She nestles into my side and rests her cheek against my chest. “I love listening to your heartbeat after,” she murmurs. “It’s like a song.”
I smooth my hand through her hair. “I love how poetic you get after.”
“I can’t help it. I just feel so warm and fuzzy.”
“You know, Vignette, we haven’t used a condom one single time.”
She looks up at me with meaning in her eyes. “I know, and I’m completely fine with that.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Sienna
One Month Later
“This feels surreal,” I murmur, clutching onto Nico’s firm arm as we walk around the gallery together. “That’s small-s surreal, not capital S Surreal like the art style.”
“Speaking of surrealism…”
Nico stops in front of a painting of his mother. It’s the piece of her in the library, the books showing snippets of her, a few of them with their pages open, showing small vignettes of her life. I smile… I can’t even think of the word vignette anymore without thinking of Nico’s nickname for me.
“You’re so talented,” Nico says, kissing me on the cheek. “Look at the detail in this piece. All these people: all here to see your talent.”
He smooths his hand over my shoulder, turning me so that I can take in the room.
I never thought I’d see my art hanging somewhere like this: framed, lit just right, surrounded by people sipping wine that costs more than the rent on my old apartment. Gianna made sure everything looked perfect. I keep waiting for someone to point and say I don’t belong. But that's not the case at all. They smile. They ask questions. They say things like ‘moving’ and ‘striking’ and ‘you’re so young’.
For the first time, I’m not faking it.
“It’s amazing,” I whisper.
“You’re the amazing one,” Nico says. “Mother gave you a nudge… but it’s your talent that got you here.”
“It was a sketch I drew of a man I thought I’d never have,” I say. “It was a dream… and now it’s come true. I feel drunk. I’ve only had one glass of champagne!”
He smiles, but there’s an almost panicked look in his eyes. It’s been there ever since we climbed into the limousine earlier this evening.
“Are you sure everything’s okay?”
“Tonight’s a big night.”
“I know, but why are you nervous?”
“Piccola pittrice, who said I was nervous?”
“Newsflash. I’ve spent long enough studying you to know when you’re nervous.”
Gianna glides into the center of the room, delicately tapping a spoon against her champagne glass. The crowd gradually quiets, all eyes turning toward her. She radiates elegance, exuding her characteristic sophistication.
"Excuse me," Nico murmurs, releasing my hand.
I'm about to question his departure when Gianna launches into her speech.
"Many of you know the serendipitous tale that led me to the extraordinarily gifted Sienna Vale. She was working as a waitress. Now, there is nothing demeaning about that profession, but it woefully underutilized Sienna's remarkable talents. When her notebook tumbled from her apron and I glimpsed the masterpiece she had sketched, the character and humanity captured in such a seemingly simple piece of art, I recognized immediately that I had discovered a woman who truly embodied the phrase 'diamond in the rough'. As all of you have now witnessed, Sienna is indeed a diamond."
She looks at me with a maternal warmth, and I savor every moment, despite Nico's mysterious disappearance. "All of you have been captivated and mesmerized by her work. Would it astonish you to learn that these masterpieces were created over a mere two and a half months?"
When collective gasps ripple through the room and all eyes shift to me, I feel spotlit. But unlike previous moments in my life – at school, at my dead-end jobs – this attention feels validating.
"You are majestic, my sweet girl," Gianna declares. "You are sublime. You are... and forgive me if I'm causing you to blush, but I mean this with absolute sincerity. You are a generational talent."