Young, beautiful, and ambitious, Pamela Grosvenor was looking to make a name for herself as one of London's top art critics. That meant covering cutting edge art, even when she detested it. Pamela certainly detested the art of Garret Simmons. He was an arrogant pervert, and his art showed it. Unquestionably talented, but his art showed women in bondage, in torment. It was repellent of course, and yet bizarrely fascinating at the same time. At least, Pamela felt it was. And as much as she loathed the man at first sight, loathed his swaggering sexist attitude and the way he portrayed women, she found herself intrigued by his art, by his machismo, and by the dark, wicked thought of allowing him to seduce her into becoming his next model. And as Pamela slowly gives in to his seduction, barrier after barrier fall, until her inhibitions melt away in a torrent of heat and pain and pleasure.
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