Page 69 of Mine to Worship

I turn to him, cup his face, and he relaxes.

“These are our pics, no one else will see me like this, just you.”

His breath caresses my neck. The click of the camera echoes in the room.

“Of course, angel, because I’d gouge their eyes out and enjoy every second of it. And like the twisted bastard that I am, I would present them to you.” His tone booms with seriousness. His hands are all over my body, and heat crashes down on me. Not from embarrassment, but from his touch, his lips, his dirty words. It’s the most erotic situation I have ever experienced.

“Such a bad angel.”

“Kian…” God, I am about to combust. It has been too long, my need is pulsing, throbbing, the ache between my legs demanding to be soothed.

“But you’re all mine, just mine, and I don’t share.” His touch brands me, his lips on mine, a tattoo of his ownership on me.

“I don’t… It’s not that…” I can’t even explain, it’s not that I would want that. The photographer clicks with no pause.

“Shh, angel, you know who you belong to and that’s me.”

The air between us is thick, crackling with desire so potent it might explode in our faces. Let it explode, I want to feel the heat. I throw my head back. He sits up and buries his face between my breasts.

“Enough,” he says. At his deep tone, rich with demands to obey, the camera stops clicking. “Get out, but leave the video on.” Kian’s gaze reeks of authority, and the photographer scurries away.

“I’ll give you a few,” the photographer stammers.

I can’t believe I did that, and embarrassment floods me.

“No, no, there’s no place for that between us,” Kian admonishes.

Alone with him, with the chord threatening to snap from restraint, I push him back to a makeshift bed. His cock is hard in his boxers between my thighs and my curls splay over his chest. He drags me to his chest by the back of my neck. His finger slides inside my drenched panties. I bite down on my lip, and he flicks his thumb against my clit.

“So wet, angel.”

“Please.”

“How can I say no when your pussy wants my cock this bad.”

I shudder, and he lowers me on my back. My eyes shoot to the door. It’s one thing posing naked in a photo session, it’s something else for a total stranger to see me come.

“Kian, what if he comes back?”

“He won’t, he’s not suicidal, angel. Now, you wanted to be on camera.” Kian jerks his chin toward the camera, and I see the green light on. “You’re going to see the hunger in my eyes when I take in your body, devouring every exquisite inch, the tremble in my hands, the sheer desperation to touch your smooth skin, the cement hardness of my cock wanting to fucking ravish your tight pussy.”

He tweaks my nipple with his other hand and lowers himself between my legs as he plays with my clit languorously. “Kian…” I bite into my lower lip, my nails sinking into the mattress.

He grips my waist, sliding inside me, filling me, stretching me so good, always at the border between pleasure and pain. A string of moans leaves my mouth. I dive straight into pleasure. How I missed him inside of me, shooting me straight up to chase all the stars in the galaxy.

“Fuck, you feel exquisite on my cock.” He moves in and out of me until I am a mumbling mess of bodily sensations. “Nothing compares to your pussy.”

The orgasm roars from within me. I thrash in his arms and I come so hard my vision blurs.

He catches me and kisses down the valley of my breasts as we both catch our breaths. He bites into my neck and my eyes roll to the back of my head. A few pumps later, he erupts with a groan and he falls beside me.

He looks at me with raw adoration, and I giggle, not believing we did that.

When the photographer knocks, we’re dressed again. He steps inside and Kian writes him a check and the photographer blinks at the amount.

Kian takes the camera with him.

“The photos need to be edited,” the photographer informs him.

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