Chapter 39: FIRST PUNISHMENT

MIA

I got an invitation by email and screamed when I read it. I realized where I was and quickly muffled it with my hand because I didn't want Dante running out thinking something was wrong when it was just good news that I was trying to process.

The email said, "Dear Mia, we would like to feature you as one of our emerging artists at Harlow Gallery on the 14th of March."

My photos were going to be in an actual, big gallery on walls where people would stand in front of them with fine glasses in their hands as they voiced their opinions.

It felt too good to be true.

I let myself have thirty seconds of pure joy before I went to tell him.

He was reading in the bedroom and looked up when I appeared in the doorway and I must have had something written all over my face because he sat up immediately.

"What happened?"

"A very good thing. There is a gallery opening that wants to feature my work." I held out the phone for him to read while I waited to see his reaction and then his face turned genuinely happy for me.

"That's incredible." He stood up, pulling me into his arms and warming me with his warmth. I took a deep breath of his scent with a smile. "How many people are usually at these things?"

I pulled back slightly. "What?"

"The opening. How big is the venue? How many attendees?"

"I don't know. A hundred? Two hundred? It's an art opening not a—"

"What kind of security does the venue have?"

I looked at him. "It's a gallery, Dante. There are just paintings on the walls."

"Photographers with your level of skill usually attract attention. With your stalker situation—"

"The stalker has been quiet for weeks."

"Quiet isn't gone." He handed the phone back and I could see him already planning how the evening would go as he assigned himself a role I didn't give him. "I'll go with you. Obviously."

Obviously.

"I was thinking I might go with the other artists," I said. "To make it a professional thing."

"We'll go together and you can spend time with the other artists there." He kissed my forehead. "Don't argue about this one. Not with everything that's been happening."

I didn't argue.

The dress arrived two days before the event in a box. I frowned at it because I hadn't ordered it and wanted to go with one of the dresses I already owned.

I opened the box and pulled out a black, silk dress which had a tight top and loose bottom from below the knee. The neckline dipped lower than anything I owned. It was beautiful and clearly expensive as I stood there holding it and couldn't help but feel awkward at Dante's choices of clothing.

"I can't accept this," I said when he came in.

"You needed something for the opening."

"I have things I can wear."

"Nothing that suits the occasion." He took the dress from me, holding it up and from the look on his face, I had no other choice. "Try it on."

I did and the neckline showed the marks on my neck from three nights ago. Although they had started to fade, they could still be seen.

"It shows the mark," I said.

"I know."

"I was going to cover it."

"Don't." He met my eyes in the mirror. "Let people see it."

We were almost out the door when he stopped me.

"Come here," he said, voice dropping an octave.

I turned around and he was behind me, looking very focused which made me take a step back but he reached out for my waist, pulling me closer.

"We're going to be late—"

"Ten minutes won't matter." He walked me back to the wall and kissed me.

I was confused but kissed him back, his hands wandered all over my body, even pinching my nipple through the dress, making me gasp and moan into his mouth. He smiled, pulling back as he started to kiss down my neck, I felt his teeth bite my neck then he sucked on it which sent arousal straight between my legs.

"Dante—"

"Let me." His hands tightened on my hips, making me shut up as he continued his assault on my neck.

I was panting and whimpering at this point, trying to grind against him but the dress didn't let me. When he finally pulled back he looked at what he'd done with satisfaction and hunger in his eyes.

"Now we can go," he said.

Confused, I checked the mirror and the mark was fresh, dark and very visible. He had planned this from the start, that's why he chose this dress so that he could show everyone that I was his.

I glared at him but he only smiled as we left.

The gallery was everything I'd hoped it would be.

My photos looked enormous on the white walls, lit perfectly and seeing them in that position made me feel like all my hard work was finally paying off. People stopped in front of them, looked and complimented them. My heart felt so full it might burst.

"This one," a woman in her fifties said to me after Dante had introduced himself as my partner to the third person in a row. "The angle of the light is just perfect. How long did you wait for this?"

"About forty minutes," I said. "The window was facing west and I needed the angle to be—"

"Exceptional," she said. "You have a very good eye."

I stood taller, completely forgetting about the dress, mark and his hand on my lower back. This was my dream and I was going to enjoy every second of it.

But that of course, didn't last long as I got my first critic within an hour as someone insulted my work which soured my mood.

Then I met a scout who was younger than I expected, in his mid-thirties with genuine enthusiasm.

"The tension between everything in this is really sophisticated," he said. "You're doing something interesting with the idea of being watched as both violation and intimacy."

He had no idea.

"Thank you," I said. "That duality was very intentional."

"I'd love to do a feature with this. It would be a long form project." He reached into his jacket pocket for a card. "How about we have coffee this week? I'd like to discuss—"

"She's very busy," Dante said. "Maybe email instead."

The man looked at him then at me and I smiled, trying not to show my embarrassment.

"Of course," the man said then he handed the card directly to me, not to Dante, and I liked him for that. "Whenever you have time."

As he left Dante leaned in and said, “when we get home, you’ll be punished for that.”

While pressing his very hard member against my ass and I couldn’t help but anticipate what was coming.