"In my opinion, I think I did a good job," Marq said as Honor looked at herself in the mirror.
She turned to him, playfully furling her lip. "You're so arrogant, Mr. Haydn."
His lips quirked up, self-satisfied. "Well, what do you think? Am I wrong?"
She sniffed again, then she turned back to the mirror, looking at her sides, turning around to look over her shoulder at her backside, examining the new pattern on her skin. The new floral pattern with its thick lines and whorls was similar to what was there before, the same all black, but it was much simpler, she noted.
He had done a good job, she had to admit. Though, to be fair, he had used a matching set of stencils to literally paint it on her body, which explained the simplicity. It had not surprised her that the ink had been a special mixture from TemPTat.
But first, he had taken her in the shower to wash off her previous TemPTat, which had only barely started to fade. It had taken two separate special removal gels, again provided by TemPTat, one to loosen the ink from her skin, and the second to wash it off.
She smiled, feeling heat rush to her face; that had been fun.
It turned out that one of his new toys for her was waterproof, and he had been eager to experiment with it, pressing her against the shower stall, the device between her legs as the water fell on them. Afterwards, she had been more than ready for his cock, more than ready for him to do anything he wanted with her.
It had started in the shower, a series of copulations, joining and rejoining, grasping and fondling, sharp gasps and moans as they moved together, that finally ended in bed, both of them still wet from the shower as they rutted on the sheets. Honor had ridden him hard, clutching him to her breasts as he finally released inside her, growling her name in her ear.
They had stayed in the bed for a while, and she had sucked and cleaned him up before the next phase, enjoying his helpless gasping for a change.
He had painted her on the swing, still outside under the late morning sun, methodically applying each stencil to her skin, then laving his brush over the pattern. The ink dried and took hold immediately, the stencils working as designed and to take any extra paint with them as they are removed.
He had worn his pants as he'd led her outside, while she wore nothing at all, but she had learned to live with that unfairness.
"Is this another hobby?" Honor had asked, breathless, as he had started at her leg, layering the stencil on her calf and coiling it up around to her shin. He had left her hands free, but she was again open and vulnerable, and he had again taken full advantage, touching, licking, kissing and fondling again until she was visibly wet.
He had been wearing his glasses, and his eyes had been narrowed in concentration, her foot braced on his chest as he worked.
"Painting tattoos on breathtakingly beautiful women?"
"No." She smiled, blushing, even though the thought of him doing what he was doing then with another woman sent a disturbing pang through her. "Just painting."
He laughed. "I am an absolute novice."
"So, I'm your first?"
"Yes, Miss Banet." He looked at her. "In so many things."
She was silent after that, a warmth spreading through her chest that she determinedly chose to ignore. He'd placed stencils around her thigh, then from her hip to her sternum and then another from her shoulder to the valley between her breasts, crossing her body from one side to the other.
And then had come the paint, the sensation of his brush strokes on her skin making her giggle at first. Then it had become less ticklish, and her giggling had stopped as the painting progressed, her hands grasping the swing's straps, staring at him as he stood between her open legs, ever closer to the pointing tips of her breasts, ever closer to her lips. Heat blossomed through her, her body reacting to his closeness.
He was laving the brush over the stencil he'd placed above her belly, creating the pattern over her sternum, when she had reached for him, her hand going behind his head and pulling him to her, a hungry growl as she kissed him.
Her other hand reached down into his pants, finding his member at well past half mast. He had gasped as she grasped him, breaking free of her lips.
"I'm not done yet, Miss Banet." he had said, not moving away from her hand.
Her smile had been wicked. "You can continue, just with no pants."
He'd taken a deep breath, as if to object, but then he had nodded, his lips quirking up as he slid his pants down over his butt to fall to his feet, Honor grinning, not letting go of his rapidly growing dick.
Gamely, breathing harder, he continued painting, moving to the stencil over her cleavage as she held him, gently stroking, feeling him hardening in her hand.
"Ow ..."
She loosened her grip, smiling apologetically. "Sorry."
She needed liquid to handle him properly, and somewhat absurdly, the thought of spitting in her hand disgusted her. Then she realized where she could get lubrication.
Lots of it, in fact.
She let go of his member, and she smirked at him as she reached between her spread thighs, penetrating herself with multiple fingers, gasping as she fetched what she needed.
She heard his sharp intake of breath as she layered her liquid on his cock, and she had smiled as she reached again into herself to fetch some more, before she resumed stroking him, easily bringing him to full hardness, his breathing harsh, his painting paused, his eyes fixed on her.
She grinned at him, enjoying his dazed look as she firmly pulled him to her, flexing her hips in invitation as his cock touched her entrance. "Come in, Mr. Haydn."
He did, and she made a purring noise in her throat, eyes fluttering closed, lips widening in a smile of pure delight as she welcomed him into her body.
She opened her eyes after a long moment, and then she lifted her hands and grasped the swing's straps, leaning back on the swing. "Continue, Mr. Haydn."
"Yes, Miss Banet." he said, gazing at her in a way that had sent another rush of heat through her body, accompanying by a surge of emotion that she knew was too dangerous to process.
And that was how he had painted the last part of her tattoo, over the stencil crossing from her shoulder to her cleavage, sheathed inside her as she lay back, her hips gently undulating as she brought her hand down from the straps, touching herself, her eyes on his, a wicked smile on her lips.
His paint strokes had become more shaky, especially after she made herself come, throwing her head back as she keened and shook on the swing, making him halt his painting, watching her in hungry silence, his cock still inside her.
Afterwards she had decided it was an opportune time to exercise her kegel muscles, his gasping as she squeezed him and theatrically raised eyebrows making her giggle.
Despite all that, his control had held until he was done.
And then he had abandoned it all at once.
She had moved with him, matching his thrusts, desperate to feel him unload himself inside her, reveling in his roughness as he rode and grasped at her body, knowing her teasing had made her pleasure a distant concern for him as he sought his release. Finally she felt him stiffen, growling as he came inside her.
It was several minutes before he calmed, her arms around him, his member still sheathed inside her. Their lips met again for a while, and then he had straightened up, making her shake in reaction as he exited from her.
He released her from the swing and bade her to stand still as he applied one more stencil curling up from her hip and across her lower back, and picked up the brush and paint jar again. A few minutes later, he was done, and then he had ceremoniously peeled off the stencils from her skin.
He had been very clever, she noted to herself as she examined his handiwork on her body in the mirror; assembling a set of individual tattoos into one harmonious pattern, the gaps from one to the other looking natural, as if that were the original design.
She liked it, she thought. Though, she thought again, the application process may well be biasing her opinion. That, she decided, she loved.
"Well?" he asked again, coming up behind her, his pants on.
She relaxed back against him, meeting his eyes in the mirror as he wrapped his arms around her. "Not bad."
He nuzzled her neck, fingers stroking her belly. "Tough customer."
"You used stencils!" she protested, "Picasso, you're not."
He chuckled. "But they worked, did they not?"
She turned her head, smiling. "You're not letting this go, are you?"
He smiled back. "No."
She laughed, their lips meeting before she turned back to the mirror, looking again at herself, this time seeing her swollen lips and nipples, the faint marks of his customary bites on her skin. Her inner thighs were visibly wet in the mirror, and she could feel their combined fluids still coating them.
She furled her lip ... recognizing the bite marks for the territorial markings they were. As if he needed anything else to say she was his to use at any time and in any way he wanted, she thought.
"What do you think?" she asked instead. "Do you like it?"
"No fair." he said.
She gave him a quizzical look. "How?"
"You've never failed to take my breath away, Miss Banet," he said, eyes glinting.
The sudden surge of warmth and emotion was overwhelming, more than she could suppress, so she turned her head and kissed him again. For a long time.
"Let's go to the beach," he said afterwards.
She looked out to the sliding doors, toward the villa's private stretch of sand and ocean, questioning.
"No," Marq clarified "The main beach."
She smiled. "You want to show off your artwork?"
He tickled the undersides of her breasts. "Very much so."
She furled her lip at him again.
________________________
Honor noted the eyes following her as she carried her order from one of the refreshment stands and made her way through the sand, to where Marq had set up their spot, awning and lounger already opened, cooler of food already delivered. The black beaded wristband meant the men only looked, much to her relief.
The male attention had surprised her at first, considering many other women were topless and more than a handful were bottomless as well. But then again, the bikini covered only slightly more than the slingshot she had worn to the supermarket and she was very conscious of how the ridiculously elastic material of the bikini made the rounded bits and pieces of her jiggle as she walked.
Her nipples were more covered this time, barely, but the absent wrap meant all could see the ridiculously micro bottom only just covered her opening, leaving the triangular strip of hair Marq had left on her mound entirely exposed and visible.
Belatedly, she had realized what was also making her stand out; her new body art ... and jewellery. More than the uniqueness of it, the bikini did nothing to hide the chains going to her nipples.
She had worn the chain first, almost without thought, when he had released her to get ready for the beach. Then she had looked through the closet of barely-there strings and strips of material that Marq had stocked for her. She had found the bikini and tried it on to tease him, going out to model it for him as the suit that showed off his 'artwork' to the maximum without her being completely nude.
But then she had seen his eyes, his approval, and after a few minutes of being deliciously molested she had chosen not to change, instead tying a wrap around her waist as her sole concession to modesty. Her sunshades, sandals and sunhat were the only other things she added after that.
Nonetheless, she had been self-conscious when they had stepped out of the villa, fitfully readjusting the small sarong as they walked to the beach. Then they had come across the first nude woman strolling past, and Marq had solved the problem by casually reaching out and pulling it off her body.
She had gasped at her sudden exposure, glaring at him as he grinned behind his shades. But when he'd reached for her hand, she'd given it to him, albeit with an annoyed sniff. And then he'd pulled her in and kissed her, right there on the path where everyone could see, and in moments she had found herself significantly less concerned about her bush being visible, suddenly aware of the distinct possibility she might be returning to Villa 6 entirely nude if the whim struck him.
He did enjoy displaying her.
Which opened up the possibility that she just might end up getting fucked before they got to Villa 6.
It had disturbed her that the prospect excited her more than anything else, especially the knowledge that she would do little to nothing to stop him, but she had pushed that aside as they strolled on, hand in hand, seeing more than one celebrity along the way.
She paused when she got to the beach tent, reaching behind her to undo the knot of the bikini top behind her neck, freeing her breasts. 'I like seeing your breasts.' She remembered him honestly saying not too long ago. And looking around at all the nudity around her, she saw no reason why she was not letting him see them.
He was lying back on the double-lounger, reading from his rollable tablet when she ducked under the awning. She sat beside him, deliberately bumping him with her hip, and he looked up at her, lips quirking up.
"So ... this is for you. Passionfruit, mango, strawberry and lime," she said, handing him the smoothie.
She removed her shades, smiling as she saw his eyes go to her boobs. 'Men,' she sniffed, internally.
"What about you?"
"Grapefruit, pineapple, strawberry, kiwi and mango."
"Sounds ... interesting."
She got on the lounger, curling up against him. "'Interesting'?"
"Grapefruit and pineapple."
"Bitter and sweet. Wanna try?"
"Only if you'll try mine."
She giggled. "Already did ..."
He grasped her bum, his touch rough and arousing. "Naughty girl ..."
She let him have a sip of her smoothie, and she smiled and turned her lips up to him as she ran her hand down his body, retaliating as his hand found her breasts. The warmth between her legs flared up again as their lips met, and her exploring hand went under the waist band of his shorts, grinning as she found him at half mast.
"So ..." she nodded nonchalantly at the tablet, still somehow in his hand as she continued to play with him. "... what's happening with Ascent Kapital's new investment?"
He took a deep breath, voice admirably steady despite his balls in her hand. "Not bad. Helios and Nomi stock prices are up ..."
"That's good ..." she said, her hand moving rhythmically. "The tickers are still separate?"
He nodded, swallowing. "Yes."
"Mmmm ..." she hummed. "When are they merging ...?"
He dropped the tablet.
"Four more months ..." he answered after a long moment of silence, breathing hard.
"Mmmm ..." she said again as she expertly brought him to full hardness.
Abruptly, she removed her hand from his shorts, sitting up. Looking at him, she brought her fingers to her lips, sniffing and then licking the small coating of his liquid on them, predatory as she met his eyes.
She looked around, calculating, and then she moved, quickly clambering on top him. He obligingly lifted himself as she eased his shorts down. She scrambled up, setting herself over his freed member, and it was the easiest thing to slip the silly excuse for a thong to the side and guide him to her entrance. She grunted as she sank down on him, biting her lip as he filled her.
The wrap he had seized was beside him on the lounger, and she reached for it, tying it loosely around her waist as she sat on him, a minor nod to modesty despite the amount of nudity around them. She bent to kiss him afterward, tongue laving out as their lips met, her breasts melding against his chest as his arms went around her.
Their nearest neighbors would only see a woman in a sarong lying on her lover's body, kissing him, a far from uncommon sight on the beach. They would need to come closer to see the gentle motion of her hips as she moved him inside her body, to see that they were joined.
She broke the kiss, lifting herself up slightly, lips parting at the pleasure arching through her body as she continued her slow grinding against him, moving almost without thought, knowing right then that even if there had been anyone looking and close enough to see what she was doing, she would have done it anyway.
She met his eyes as his hand reached up to brush aside her hair from her face, and absurdly she felt herself flushing at his gaze, at the sudden intimacy that suddenly went far beyond the closeness she had been seeking.
Honor was immediately reminded of the scene in which 'Ramya's' mentor 'sat-still' on her beloved Emperor, the intimacy of the act perfectly captured as they stared into each other's eyes. She could feel it as she 'sat-still' on Marq Haydn's manhood, joined with him, their gazes locked on each other.
"Stop," she said.
"Stop what?"
"Stop looking at me like that."
His eyes dared her. "Like what, Miss Banet?"
She stared at him, the words not coming, so she kissed him. His lips, and then all over his face, keeping him inside her as she laved her tongue over his chin, his neck, the well of his throat, deliberately trying to break the intimacy of the moment.
He answered her, his hands running all over her body, cupping her breasts, grasping her waist, squeezing and caressing her as her riding him became harder, more demanding.
She let out a squeal as he began to thrust up into her, matching her movements as she rode him, dimly aware that there was no more hiding what she, they, were doing now, wrap or no wrap. She ignored him when he tried to slow her down, when he started to go stiff in the tell-tale way that said he was losing control. Instead she reached down to touch herself, chasing her own pleasure, stroking and pressing until the surge of pleasure arched through her and she cried out, shaking on top of him as she came.
He yelled out seconds later, and she grinned and bore down, greedily sheathing him inside her, leaning in and kissing him hungrily as he gasped and released into her pussy, his body spasming as his hands desperately grasped at her.
She lay on top of him afterward, burying her face in his neck with a quiet moan of contentment, feeling his pulse start to slow under her lips as he wrapped his arms around her.
She lifted her head and grinned at him after their breathing had achieved some semblance of normal. She moved slowly, carefully keeping him inside her. "Four months is a bit quick, I think."
He looked gratifyingly confused for a moment before he recalled what they had been talking about before she had decided to mount him.
"Yes. It is," Marq breathed, sounding satisfyingly winded.
"What exchanges are you listing on? DAX? SIX? TSX?"
He raised an eyebrow, "Are you thinking of leaving baking to go into finance, Miss Banet?"
She gave him a look of mock horror.
He grinned. "Right now, I don't know whether to think you're a spy for our competitors, or to offer you a job."
Her smile widened, "Will it pay as well as ... this? Being your ... odalisque?"
He laughed. "Probably not."
She giggled. "Too bad. And it probably wouldn't be as much fun."
He smiled. "Fun?"
"Yes ..." She pumped her hips lewdly, still not letting him slip out. "Fun. You've spoiled me, Mr. Haydn."
"It would be a bad idea anyway." He brushed aside her hair again, looking into her eyes. "Because I don't think I'll be able to work anywhere near you."
She was lying naked on top of him, her naked breasts resting on his chest, a still fresh load of his semen and his penis still literally inside her, and he could still make her flush.
He stroked a finger down the side of her face. "Do you know how much I love the way your lip folds up when you smile?"
She had nothing to say to that, and so she once again kissed him, and she felt him getting aroused again, literally expanding and growing inside her body, only adding to the intensity of the onslaught of emotion flooding through her.
The rest of the day passed in a blur after that, what little was left of her inhibitions and modesty completely obliterated.
She had worn back her top as they left the awning, and then she had lost it not long afterward, this time permanently to the waves. She had learned it was entirely possible to ride his cock and drive a jet ski at the same time, though it had put some strain on her multitasking skills and she'd had to go slow.
Much to her frustration, he had not allowed her to make him come.
The bottom went when he decided to masturbate her back under the awning. Moving it to the side would have worked but he had removed it completely. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, sensible, disciplined Honor Banet noted with alarm that she had not even protested.
They had danced then, music playing from his roll-up tab, and she had laughed and giggled as he twirled and dipped her, even when the music did not call for it, unashamedly melding her nakedness against him as the sun dipped below the horizon.
Then she had spent a while lying back and writhing helplessly on the lounger as he sat in front of her spread legs, the wrap barely hiding the fact that he was once again sheathed inside her, somehow finding herself in yet another impossible 'sit-still' game, except she was lying on her back, staring breathlessly at him as he indulged his obsession with her breasts.
He had not let her make him come then either, though he had ordered her to do it for herself, removing the wrap so they could both watch her fingers worry herself to two gasping orgasms while seeing and feeling his hardness inside her. Her second come was accompanied by a gush of liquid, likely because he was playing with her chains and teasing her nipples, somehow managing to to keep her on the border of pain without crossing over.
Her earlier premonition turned out to be accurate, she returned to Villa 6 that evening nude, albeit after an extended stop off the path along the way to be thoroughly, deliciously, kissed and molested, not caring that they were visible to many passersby. She suspected that the stop would have happened even without her open and shameless teasing.
And as she lay back on their bed, gasping and keening, grasping his head as he hungrily, desperately, fed on her pussy and then arching and crying out as he finally entered her, moving with him as he finally let her make him come, she wouldn't have had it any other way.
________________________
Honor stopped at the bedroom door, consciously suppressing the surge of emotion that welled up inside her as she watched him sleep.
She had been doing that disturbingly more often in the last few days. Ignoring the growing weight in her chest as she considered the dwindling time she had left with him was proving a lot harder.
But instead of dwelling on it, she entered the room, hearing his light snoring as she came closer to his slumbering form, still as naked as when she had disentangled herself from him half an hour earlier.
He had grumbled in protest, still mostly asleep, but she had kissed him and whispered that she would be back.
She had peed and then carefully padded out to the kitchen, nude but for her odalisque chain, sitting quietly in the morning light streaming through the windows, warmed by more than the hot tea in her hands as memories of the last few days replayed themselves in her mind.
She felt herself flush deeper. For some reason, Marq had decided that he was only going to use his tongue and fingers, and then a vibrator on her the day before.
Nude, helpless, she had been left a shuddering wreck by the time night had fallen, patches of wetness left all over the villa, her own come running in rivulets down her legs. She only got to welcome his cock inside her after midnight, locking her arms and legs around him and sobbing as he rode her hard and released inside her.
She was ready for him when he woke her to unload himself in her body again. Both times.
She finished her tea and headed back to the bedroom after making sure she had prepared everything she needed, firmly decided on her plan for how Marquin Haydn's day was going to go.
She woke him with her breasts, dangling them on his face, smiling in amusement as she watched him shift and move his head away, before his eyes fluttered open in confusion. Then he realized that it was a pointing nipple stroking over his nose and, in an instant, his confusion vanished.
She had a 'Fresh Morning!' mint ball in her hand and she pressed it against his lips. Obligingly, he opened his mouth and she heard him crush it with his teeth. She waited patiently for him to swallow before kissing him until he was fully awake, his arms wrapping around her as she licked at his lips.
"I'm going to take care of you today, Mr. Haydn," she promised, whispering against his lips. "I'm going to bathe you, feed you, suck you, fuck you and make you come all day."
He made to say something but she shushed him. "No, Mr. Haydn. All you're going to say is 'Yes, Miss Banet.'"
He looked into her eyes, and again, she had to suppress another dangerous surge of emotion. Then his lips quirked up. "Yes, Miss Banet."
She sucked him, swiftly getting him erect, allowing him to move her so she could sit on his mouth, squealing as his tongue speared into her pussy, luxuriating in his touch, enjoying his own shuddering as she ministered to his member. She moved quickly off his face and down his body, taking him in her hand and setting herself before taking him inside her, bracing herself with her hands behind her on his chest. She rode him, avidly watching herself in the mirror at the foot of the bed, seeing the bouncing of her breasts on her chest, watching Marq Haydn's cock disappear in and out of her pussy, seeing the thick layer of white creamy lubrication she was leaving on his shaft as he grunted and grasped her waist.
She sat fully on him, grinding down as he finally yelled out his orgasm, shuddering as she hungrily took his cum into her body.
She hungrily sucked him into her mouth again when she got off him, cleaning him up, reveling in the taste of their combined fluids as he growled and shook under her.
Afterward, she led him into the bathroom, into the shower stall, kissing him under the warm falling water, telling him to be still as she lathered him up, using her hands, using her boobs, washing every inch of his body before kneeling to swallow him into her mouth again, making him hard but not taking him over the edge.
She toweled him dry and took him back to the bed after that, kissing him all over his body, taking him into her mouth, again, before telling him to wait for her while she made his breakfast.
He didn't obey. She frowned admonishingly at him when he entered the kitchen after her, but they both knew it was entirely insincere.