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When an infamous photographer takes over her Woman of the Year photoshoot, this curvy model never expected for it to go this well. The heat between the two is hot enough to melt the camera…and her panties. But can it lead to forever?
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“Enough,” I rasp, unable to take anymore when Trinity arches her back, putting that round ass high in the air. I toss the camera onto the bed, equal parts turned on and frustrated. “You’re trying to break me, aren’t you?”
“No.” She bites her lip and then giggles a little. “Maybe.”
I growl at her, which makes her laugh again. That sound is already my favorite. It’s so damn innocent and refreshing. How she’s survived in this world for so long without losing that artlessness, I don’t know. But I want to drop to my knees and thank God for it. There’s nothing hardened or cynical about her. She isn’t jaded or spoiled. She’s the sweetest little lamb.
I stalk toward her across the room, practically panting from exertion.
She rolls onto her back, her long hair spilling over the side of the chaise. It’s so long it nearly sweeps the floor. She’s a dirty version of Rapunzel locked up tight in her tower. Only I’m not a prince, and I’m not climbing her hair to reach her. I’ll have that wrapped around my fist while I’m fucking her from behind.
“Did you get any good shots?” she asks.
I grunt in response, drawing to a stop beside her. From this vantage point, I can see the line of freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose. I can also see the way her body trembles faintly and she rubs her thighs together, searching for friction to ease the ache between them. Teasing me made her horny.
“Come here and I’ll show you,” I say, holding out a hand to her.
She hesitates for a split second before taking my hand and allowing me to pull her up from the chaise. Her warm body collides with mine, soft meeting hard, yielding to it.
“You enjoy teasing me,” I say, plunging my hand into her hair to tip her head back until she’s staring up at me. She moans quietly, though I’m not sure if it’s because she enjoys the submissive position or if it’s because she enjoys teasing me. Both, maybe.
“Yes,” she says, her gaze flitting across my face. She isn’t nervous now. In fact, she looks entirely too pleased with herself. She likes knowing she can rile me up, get me heated. That’s all right. Just so long as she knows she’ll be paying for it. Whenever she’s feeling like a little minx, I’ll let her play. She can torture me all she wants. Because when she’s done, it’s my turn. Only, I won’t tease her from across the room. When she breaks for me, it’ll be with me all over her.
“You ready to pay the price, lamb?” I ask, tugging her head back further. My free hand skims down her back and onto her ass. I squeeze one plump cheek in my hand, earning another soft moan from her.
“What…” She licks her lips. “What’s the price?”
“A kiss.”
“Just one?” Her hands settle on my shoulders, slide down, and then back up as she feels the muscles bunch beneath her palms. Her pupils dilate, letting me know she likes my body. Thank God for that. Unlike her, I’m not soft or sweet or beautiful. I’m not a model, and my body is far from perfect. But it’ll bring her more pleasure than she’ll be able to handle. I’ll make sure of that.
“To start,” I murmur, dipping my head until our lips are a breath apart. I hover there, waiting for her to take it further, to kiss me. I don’t want her feeling like she has no say here. If this isn’t what she wants, I won’t push her. I won’t be one of those shady motherfuckers who takes what isn’t willingly given. She has the power here, and I want her to know that. “You can tell me no.”
“I know,” she whispers, leaning forward. “But I don’t want to tell you no, Sage.”
