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He laughed, ducking his head. “Am I that predictable?” He smiled and his dimple showed.
“I know you,” I shrugged. “You don’t have to be predictable for me to pick up on your body language. Now, out with it.” I blew on the hot coffee, eyeing him over the rim.
“Can I take your picture?” He asked.
I laughed. “Trenton, I’m pretty sure you’ve already taken my picture plenty of times.”
“No, not like this,” he shook his head, his dark hair falling into his eyes.
“Not like what…?”
“You, naked, in my bed,” he bit his lip. “And then I want to take your picture while I make love to you.”
I shivered at his tone.
“You can say no, if you don’t want me to,” he assured me, “but I’d really like to.”
“I…” I drew my knees up to my chest, contemplating. Finally, I met his unwavering gaze. “Okay.”
“Okay?” He repeated, smiling slowly like he was afraid at any second I’d scream that I was only kidding.
I nodded. “It’s okay with me.”
He set his coffee cup on the table and then reached for mine. “You want to start now?” I asked, reluctantly handing over the cup.
He nodded with a small grin. “I thought I better get started before you change your mind.”
“I won’t.”
“I don’t care,” he laughed, picking up his camera. I realized that our suitcases were now in the bedroom. Someone must have dropped them off last night and he’d brought them in this morning.
He aimed the camera and started taking pictures.
“Lay down,” he said huskily.
I did as he asked.
Before taking another picture, he reached down and spread my hair around, then lifted one of my arms above my head. “Don’t move,” he warned me like one would a child.
My heart was beating so fast in my chest that I was sure he could see its thumps.
“These are beautiful,” he whispered, looking down at the screen of his camera.
He posed me in a different position and snapped my picture again. He continued that way for a good thirty minutes.
“Now,” he lowered, taking my bottom lip between his teeth and then releasing it, “I’m going to make love to you.”
He held tight to the camera and kicked off his sweatpants. He was hard and completely ready for me. He slid a condom on and climbed on the bed. His fingers found me and when he felt that I was wet, he grinned. “I’m glad that turned you on as much as it did me.”
“How could it not?” I breathed.
“Good point.” He kissed me, as he took ahold of his length and slowly slid it inside me just a bit. I squirmed, letting out a small shriek from the soreness left over from yesterday. “Are you okay?” His brow creased with worry. “Do I need to stop? You know I will,” he assured me.
“Just go slow,” I warned him. “I-I’m sore down there.”
“Trust me,” he kissed me deeply, making my
head spin, “this is going to be slow, and you’re going to love every second of it.”
