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“This might be harder than I thought.”
I smirked. “Sculpting? Or your cock?”
“Both. Definitely both.” The bulge in those damned pants confirmed it.
Nodding to the slab in the center, Roman ran a hand through his hair. “Hop up. I’ll pose you.”
His own hair now hung around his face, and I realized he pulled the elastic out of it. Stepping up behind me, he gently combed my hair back, twisting the sides of it and arranging it. “You know how to do hair?”
“I have long hair, don’t I?”
Smiling, I leaned into his touch. His fingers on my scalp had tingles and goosebumps running over my skin. My nipples hardening in response. I loved the feeling of it. “Yeah, I just didn’t think about you knowing how to do mine.”
Slowly, Roman moved me. Propped up on my elbow over the pillow, lying on my side, legs bent a little, my arm lying along my body like I was seducing someone. In a way, I guess I was.
The velvet flowed over my body perfectly, covering everything that mattered. My stomach and back showed, the fabric tangling in my legs, but honestly, it revealed no more than a bathing suit or a daring dress. And the way Roman touched me—gently, reverently—I trusted him completely.
He crouched down in front of me. “I’ll take some pictures and sketch you a little. Try not to move.”
“Okay.”
We locked eyes, and what I saw there… it surged and flowed between us like an electric current. Roman leaned in and pressed his lips to my forehead. “You’re fucking beautiful, firefly.”
“You’re not so bad yourself.” His body was fully on display, and I didn’t hide the way I was looking.
Before both of us got carried away, he turned back to his table and grabbed a digital camera that sat there, taking pictures from every angle imaginable, and some I hadn’t.
Then he grabbed his pad and sat on the stool, starting to draw me. Knowing how he drew, and seeing how his gazed snagged on every revealed part of me…
“If you ever sculpt me naked—”
“I will.”
“If you ever do,” I repeated, “there’s no way you’re not fucking me at the end of every session.”
A smirk stole over his face. “You won’t have to pose live the whole time, firefly.”
“I will if it means you look at me like that.”
My only warning was a meow. Mango jumped up onto the slab in front of me. Without thinking, I smiled and reached for him, petting him, rolling him to his back and scratching his belly.
The camera clicked again. I looked up at Roman taking more pictures. “I moved.”
He didn’t say anything, just took more pictures of me and Mango, even when the little furball curled up in the velvet draped over my chest, falling asleep instantly in that way kittens did.
“Good thing you got pictures before,” I murmured.
“Maybe I’ll put him in it too.”
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, Asher’s head appearing over the break in the second floor. “How’s it going?”
Roman nodded and went back to sketching, Ash joining him to lean against the workbench. “Any chance you’ll make two identical statues?”
“He said he’ll make a different one for you guys.”
“I won’t argue with that.” Ash crossed his arms, looking at me. “Holding up?”
He knew exactly what happened this morning, and he knew nothing had been done about it. Even riding with him to and from class, he’d done nothing to tease me or help me. The traitor.
