Page 54 of Dirty Pucker

Her eyes go even wider. “Um, what?”

“It’s primal! It’s raw! And it would showcase Del’s physique gorgeously. Just look at those back muscles. That’s quite an impressive derrière you have, Del. And hamstrings. And calves.” He murmurs something in French. “The world must see it all.”

I hold in a laugh at just how over-the-top this guy is.

“This guy’s a cartoon character,” I whisper to Ingrid.

She bites her lip. Concern shines in her soft blue eyes. “Are you okay with all this?” she asks.

Her fingers dig into my skin and I have to hold back a moan. Fuck, that feels good.

The caveman part of my brain takes over. I fantasize about how I’d like to feel Ingrid’s nails digging into my back, except in bed, while I’m thrusting into her, driving her wild with pleasure.

I think about her moaning and thrashing. I think about her so overloaded with pleasure that she shreds my back.

A groan settles at the base of my throat. God, just thinking about that is enough to make me hard as a fucking rock.

But that’s never gonna happen. Because we’ll never be more than friends.

I press my thumb into my thigh. The sudden sting of pain staves off the boner threatening my cock.

Posing with her during this photoshoot is the closest I’ll ever get to fulfilling that filthy fantasy.

Is this fucked up? Yeah. Do I care? Nope.

I look Ingrid in the eye, nod, and say, “Dig your nails into my back.”

Her pupils dilate at my rasped command.

She licks her lips. A shaky breath falls from her lush mouth.

She digs her nails into my shoulders and I shiver at the sudden pain.

It feels so fucking good.

Behind me, I hear Luc Jean clicking away on his camera. The sound is distant though. All I can hear is Ingrid’s shallow breaths. All I can see are her gorgeous blue eyes, cloudy and dazed as she looks at me.

She drags her plump bottom lip through her teeth. “Harder?” she whispers.

I make a grunting noise of approval. Sharpness shoots through my shoulders. Like a reflex, a groan rips from my throat. I swallow back the rest of the sound.

Ingrid’s lips part as she gasps lightly. I gaze down at her, the skin on her cheeks and chest flushing brighter by the second. I watch as her chest rises and falls with each ragged breath she takes…

“Beautiful! Just beautiful, you two!”

The sound of Luc Jean’s booming voice yanks me out of my bubble with Ingrid. She instantly steps away from me just as LucJean’s assistant hands me my robe. I quickly wrap it around me as Luc Jean goes on and on about how inspired this shoot was.

He compliments me on being a natural model and I tell him thanks. Then he pulls Ingrid into a conversation about how beautiful her hands are while I slip my shoes back on and power walk out of the studio, toward the restrooms.

Now that I’m away from everyone, my body takes that as its cue to react how it wants.

And right now my dick is throbbing, getting harder by the second.

Thankfully, the single occupancy restroom is empty when I reach it. I shut the door, lock it, and stand in front of the sink. With one hand, I grip the porcelain edge; with the other, I grip my cock.

I give myself a rough tug and grit my teeth to keep myself from groaning.

I dip my head and close my eyes, picturing Ingrid from minutes ago.

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