Page 37 of Kings of Violence

“You should go do that outside,” she says, deadpan.

I roll my eyes. “Nope. I have a perfectly good subject right here.” I pointedly take another picture of her. “The only thing I need is for you to be naked…” I can imagine it now, her lying in bed for one nude shot after the next.

Despite what Yuri and Konstantin might think, I’m capable of taking tasteful shots. Sure, seeing her with a cock in her mouth or cunt, cum dribbling down her chin or leg makes me hot, but…

I lose track of my thought, imagining those pretty lips with some gloss, stretching wide to take our cocks.

Fuck, she’s beautiful.

“You know,” Sierra suddenly says. “If you want to take photos of me, there’s got to be better backgrounds for that. And I’d look better in nicer clothes. With makeup. A good pair of shoes.”

I blink at her. “You’d also look good naked on the bed, with those pretty legs parted for me.”

But she does have a point.

“I don’t think we have women’s clothes on hand,” I say doubtfully. “Or even shoes that fit you. The ones we brought you here in weren’t nice. We don’t keep makeup here either.” I flash her a grin. “So nude it is!”

“Iamgoing to need clothes, you know,” she says. “I can’t go back to school in just one of Konstantin’s shirts.”

“But you look so good in it,” I say. “Besides, we didn’t say you could go back to school.” I flash her a grin.

Sierra glowers at me for a moment before turning her attention back to the computer. At least, she tries, but when I go back to taking pictures of her, she closes the laptop.

“Hey!” I protest. “I was having fun. “I’m going to upload these to one of those stock photo sites so everyone can use you for their promo graphics.”

“You are pathetic,” she mutters. “And you had better not. We didn’t agree to that.”

I roll my eyes. “Technically, you did. You said you’d doanythingif we kept you and Mommy Dearest alive.” I pause, recalling the night we’d taken her. I keep the camera up so I can take pictures of her reactions, because she starts to tense.

“Yeah?” she asks cautiously, crossing her arms against her chest.

“So she whined about losing all her kids,” I say, trying to remember how the woman had put it. “And you said Kyran is gay, not dead.” I keep taking pictures.

Her expression is already amusing through the lens as her lips tighten and she looks more like an old school marm than a gorgeous woman her age. The tension doesn’t suit her, but hey. It’s one more part of her that I get to take away.

She doesn’t answer, but that’s fine.

“Your mother is more okay with a son who’s a killer than gay??” I prompt. When she glares at me, I add, “You don’t think his hands are clean. You’re not that naive.”

“I’m not that naive,” Sierra mutters. “I know he’s gotten his hands dirty, but he doesn’t get off on killing. He just… does it for his job. And Ma’s had a longer time to get used to that side of things than Kyran coming out.”

“Uh-huh,” I say, gesturing for her to get up. She does, albeit reluctantly, and I get a full body shot of her that I think will be perfect for my phone background. She’s a good model even withoutwanting to be, and she has natural talent that I’ll take advantage of. ”Turn for me.”

She stares at me.

I stare right back. “You said anything.”

“You’re being utterly ridiculous,” she says, shaking her head. She starts to turn anyway, though, probably just grateful that I’m letting her do it while clothed.

That sense of relief won’t get to last for too long, though. I’m ready to get to the good stuff.

“Go over to the bed. Stand in front of it. Look longingly at me, like you want me more than life itself but I’ll never accept you,” I say dramatically.

As expected, she simply glowers.

“Killjoy,” I mutter. “Off with the shirt, then.”

She hesitates, but when I quirk a brow at her, she obeys.

---