Page 61 of Obsessed Heir

I wasn’t interested in being an active participant in a photo shoot, even at a much lesser scale, when Holly first mentioned it. Despite the fact she’s had some tremendously creative ideas, Idon’t like getting pulled into these little side projects. But damn, I would have regretted missing this one.

Even with the sheen of tears and the scorching embarrassment on her face, she is exquisite. How was I so blind to her beauty before? I can’t equate the wanton creature I’m holding with the woman who walked into my suite yesterday. I won’t ever be able to see anything but this sensual, passionate side she’s revealed.

I glance behind her, noticing with relief that she’s alone. Good. Because I still have the urge to break something on that asshole if I have the chance. And, yet again, I was so distracted that I didn’t think to look over when Holly returned.

I run my fingers into the thick mass of Abigail’s hair, enjoying the feel of the silky strands. She’s so delicate. I have to be careful as I adjust the angle of her head, tilting her face up toward mine.

Abigail sits quietly in my lap, like a kitten being picked up by the scruff of its neck. Her lips part slightly, her warm breath fanning across my knuckles in a tantalizing caress.

“Is this what you want?” I ask huskily, my voice dropping an octave.

“Yes, that’s it,” Holly confirms, checking the screen, though she wasn’t the one I was asking.

I watch, utterly fascinated, at how Abigail lets me manhandle her. I could easily see myself lowering her down onto my rigid length. Those full, shapely lips parting to take me into her mouth. If this was anyone other than Holly who walked in on us, I would have thrown them out without a second thought.

Hell, I might still do it.

“Let’s have you stand up. Barron, you stand behind her. Abby, you against his chest. Both of you facing me. Then, Barron, you put your arm in front of her,” Holly instructs. She demonstrates how she wants me to bracket Abigail’s body.

I release my hold on her legs, leaving her to figure out how to extricate herself from her position on her own.

With no other choice, Abigail sets her hands on my shoulders, allowing only the base of her palm to make contact. It’s as if she doesn’t want to touch me any more than absolutely necessary.

I suppress a grin, remembering how she grasped at me moments ago.

Pushing off, she shimmies back quickly, stretching out to put one foot on the floor then the other. The position has her hair falling away from her chest. Gravity creates a tantalizing view that should really be caught on camera.

I’ll have to remember to tell Holly.

With Abigail standing there, I let my gaze sweep down her body to the triangle at the apex of her thighs. I exhale in a rush, knowing there’s nothing beyond that scrap but wetness.

Abigail retreats, turning to Holly, though it feels more like she’s pointedly avoiding me. “I-I think I ruined my makeup,” she murmurs, dabbing at the corner of her eyes.

“At the risk of sounding like a jerk, that may actually work better for the vibe I’m going for.” Despite Holly’s apologetic tone, Abigail freezes.

I rise from the couch, circling behind Abigail. She puts her arms down at her sides then folds them, as if she’s not sure what to do with herself.

It’s not on me if it feels like I’m stalking prey. That’s just how it turned out.

Holly resumes peering through the viewfinder, making adjustments, then shakes her head.

“Steven will probably have a shit fit, but I’m putting this thing on autofocus.” She checks the control panel then turns a dial with a cringe as it clicks into place. “Personally, I’d say this looks great.” She snaps a few pictures.

“Ready?” I ask Abigail.

With her eyes downcast, she nods as though resigned to this.

I step closer until she’s pressed against my chest. She sucks in a sharp breath as I settle my palm at her hip, ensuring there’s no space between us, no way she can ignore my arousal when my cock’s digging into her lower back.

To her credit, she doesn’t flinch this time, merely rests against me as instructed.

“Barron, kind of peek around her shoulder, like…like you want to see her expression and know what she’s thinking.”

As it happens, I am intensely curious about what Abigail is thinking after what we’ve just shared.

“Abby, can you turn your face in the opposite direction?” Holly directs, snapping more photographs from different angles.

I get the image she’s trying to capture. “Angle your face down a little and press your eyes tightly shut,” I whisper to Abigail.

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