Bound to the Canvas

Summary

The night before the Grand Art Competition, Leo, the boy I’d grown up with, drugged me and tied me to a chair in the studio, making me Vivian Vance’s canvas.

The drug burned through me. I trembled, legs clamped shut, but my frantic breathing drew lewd whistles. Leo adjusted the spotlight, bathing me in harsh light. "Is this the expression you wanted?" he asked Vivian. "That first blush of desire?"

Vivian’s pencil scratched. "Yes," she purred. "The way she wants to curl up but can’t. Try to look natural, Nora."