Page 6 of Pose for Me

River, still lounging on the couch, watches us with a gaze that is almost lazy in its curiosity, but there’s something sharp in the way he studies me. Knox’s lips curl in the slightest of smiles, one that borders on dangerous amusement. He finally releases my hand, and I take a moment to steady myself, clutching the cash as if it were an anchor. Clearing my throat, I remind myself of my role, slipping back into professionalism even as I feel the weight of their presence.

Knox takes a step back as I tuck the money into another of my pockets, his eyes never leaving mine. He gestures to River with a slight tilt of his head.

“Ready?” he asks, his voice deep, and there’s an unmistakable excitement in his tone as he looks over at his partner.

River pushes himself up, his movements graceful as he joins Knox’s side, his easy smile now carrying a hint of mischief.

“Always,” he replies, his gaze flicking between me and Knox.

The weight of their attention, their raw, magnetic energy, makes my nerves spark again, but I manage to keep my professional demeanor as I pick up my camera and adjust the lens. Walking over to the sound system I have set up I ask, “Do you have any preference on music?”

River’s grin widens, a playful edge to his smile as he glances over at me. “Put on something that makesyoufeel sexy,” he says with a tease in his voice, his eyes sparking with amusement as he watches me for my reaction.

It’s a request that throws me off guard for a second, but I recover quickly, my mind already working through what would fit the mood. It’s not uncommon for clients to not have a preference on the music—they’re usually caught up in the moment. With a subtle nod, I go to the sound system, my fingers lightly grazing over the smooth surface of the controls.

I don’t waste any time; I know exactly what to play. I press a button, and soon the air is filled with the deep beats of a playlist I’ve carefully curated over the years—songs that speak to my body, that resonate in my skin, that heighten the sensual pulse of the room. They’ve become a backdrop to so many shoots, but tonight, it feels a little different. The music, heavy with bass and haunting melodies, sinks into the space between us. It’s a rhythm that seems to match the rising tension, the heat in the room, as I glance over at Knox and River.

“Alright,” I say, turning back to face them, my voice steady even if my heartbeat is anything but. “Whenever you’re ready, just start, however it feels natural to you, and I’ll be here to capture… everything.”

I turn on the switches for all the cameras around the studio before I lift the one in my hands, hiding a faint smile behind it as the two of them move to stand by the bed, their focus fully on each other now.

I expected them to start slowly, maybe take a moment to grow comfortable, to ease into the space like many of my clients do. But the studio must feel as much like home to them as it does to me; they are entirely at ease, moving with a confidence that feels strikingly intimate. Knox reaches for River, threading one of his large hands through River's hair, his fingers tangling and pulling with a firm, unspoken command. River responds immediately, leaning closer, his eyes heavy-lidded as Knox pulls him in.

Both men are tall, but Knox’s additional height and broader build dominate the space between them. He lowers his head, brushing his lips lightly, almost teasingly, against River’s mouth. The slight tilt of his head, the way his grip tightens possessively, speaks of a well-practiced connection—a dynamic woven of familiarity and an almost palpable tension. Through my lens, I capture their every movement, adjusting the focus as the subtle shift in their body language evolves, sharpening from a quiet closeness to something charged.

Knox murmurs something, low and just loud enough for River alone. River’s response is a soft husky laugh, filled with anticipation, as he slides a hand to the back of Knox’s neck. Their shared ease reveals layers of history between them, a trust that’s both bold and mesmerizing. I can feel the heat of their connection radiating through the room, bringing an edge of tension to the air.

I circle them, capturing every angle, every shift in their expressions. They aren’t putting on a show for me; rather, I’m simply there, allowed to witness something private and profound.

Knox’s gaze occasionally flicks toward the camera, his eyes meeting mine through the lens with a knowing focus, as though he’s fully aware of the effect he and River have—not just on each other, but on everyone in their presence. There’s an unspoken invitation in that look, a challenge that makes my heart beat a little faster.

The camera clicks, capturing the rawness in each frame, the looks of unfiltered desire, the press of lips against skin, the hard press of fingers. I adjust the lens again, my fingers slightly unsteady. There’s no denying the electric pull I feel as I watch them.

Knox’s hand shifts, trailing from River’s hair down his cheek, his thumb brushing over River’s lower lip with the faintest touch. The way they look at each other feels both intimate and passionate.

I find myself captivated, drawn in as I capture frame after frame. Knox murmurs something else, and River’s laugh, low and breathless, fills the air as Knox starts to unbutton his shirt. They move together fluidly, with a comfort and ease that makes it clear this is as natural for them as breathing.

Just as I’m adjusting the camera for a new closer angle, Knox’s eyes flick to me, sharp and assessing. It feels as if he’s testing me, seeing if I’ll flinch or pull back. I don’t.

River’s fingers make quick work of Knox’s shirt, slipping buttons through loops with practiced efficiency, and in a few moments, both men shed their shirts, revealing expanses of tattooed skin that take my breath away. It’s not just a few scattered tattoos here and there; both men are covered in intricate, mostly grayscale designs that tell stories across every inch of their bodies. The hints I’d seen on Knox’s hands were just the beginning, faint shadows of what lies beneath.

As an artist, the sight is mesmerizing. As a woman, I wish I could trace every dark line on their bodies and see where they lead.

Through my lens, I capture the striking contrast of ink against their skin, the interplay of light and shadow emphasizing the strength in their frames and the fine details of their tattoos. Despite myself, my body responds with a thrill I’d typically be embarrassed by, an instinctual reaction to the raw, powerful beauty they project.

As River’s hands move to Knox’s waistband, fingers working deftly to undo the button and slide down the zipper, Knox kicks off his shoes, his eyes dark and unwavering on River’s face. In one smooth motion, River pushes Knox's pants down, his fingers grazing along Knox's legs as he peels the fabric away, leaving him in only a pair of black boxer briefs that do little to hide the large solid length pressing against the fabric. Knox sits back on the edge of the bed, his powerful form relaxed, a silent expectation that River will continue.

With a faint smirk and an answering fire in his eyes, River moves to straddle Knox’s lap, their frames fitting together perfectly. My camera captures the moment Knox’s lips descend, trailing slowly along the lines of River’s tattooed chest, his mouth brushing along inked skin with a reverence and heat that speaks volumes. The press of Knox’s lips and the scrape of his teeth as River arches into him, his head tilting back, exposing more of himself in an unspoken offer.

I continue pressing the shutter as I draw closer, focusing in on the subtle shifts of their expressions, the way Knox’s hand moves to cradle the back of River’s neck while his mouth continues its exploration. My pulse races as their eyes suddenly flick to me, their attention hitting me like a physical force, as though they can feel my reaction even from behind the lens. The heat in their gazes takes me by surprise, and I swallow hard, suppressing the soft sound that escapes me.

Knox catches it, his eyes narrowing slightly, and I can sense the challenge in his low, steady tone. "Did you want to say something?"

I bite back a smile, shaking my head, trying to maintain my composure. But his gaze pins me, unwavering. “Say it,” he commands, his voice firm, expectant. The edge in his voice sends a shiver through me, and my breath hitches as I find myself responding.

“I… I just thought…” My voice is soft, my words slipping out before I can reconsider. “I thought you seemed like the more dominant one, so… I assumed things would be the other way around.”

This time, Knox chuckles softly, the sound low, dark, and somehow both amused and dangerous. “I can still top from the bottom,” he replies, his words laced with a quiet intensity that leaves no room for doubt. He punctuates his point by fisting a hand in River’s hair, pulling his head back sharply, exposing the long line of his throat to his waiting mouth. Knox’s tongue traces a slow, teasing line along River’s neck, savoring the exposed skin, and River’s reaction is immediate—a moan that’s half gasp, half plea, his hips instinctively rocking forward in answer.

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