Page 57 of Jace
With my camera on a strap around my neck, I kick off my sandals and grab one of the gold posters of the bed, hoisting myself up.
With each minute Jace poses for me, I get bolder for him.
Stepping wide and straddling his calves, I focus my lens but don’t say a word. I can’t. I can’t speak until I watch him turn again and grab the water mister.
I have to know. “Did you plan this, big guy?”
He smirks, misting his boxer briefs while gazing up at me. “Plan to seduce you? Fuck yes, Vivian. Every day, I’ll wear white Calvins for you. Plan to do it tonight? No. But as you said, if I’m going to die in a hail of Bratva bullets, at least give me something I want. Like this…”
I gasp as he reaches under the white band of his boxers. Lifting his erect length, he makes it arc at an obscene angle toward his hip.
He’s wet the thin cotton so much that it’s see-through. The dark, fleshy, pulsing pink of his swollen penis strains against the sheer fabric barely containing his turgid shaft and swollen crown.
I sway. I swell. I sense my taut nipples aching under my dress.
“Take the shot, Viv.” His voice gets as heavy for me as his erection. “Because God knows, I am.” He starts stroking hishypnotic dick, gazing up at me. “Please, baby,” he mutters, “do thiswithme, Viv. Do this forus. Take the shot.”
For us?
I’ll do anything.
Using my camera, I get lost in him again. Watching and waiting for each hooded blink of his lustful eyes, each twist of desire across his handsome face, each time his lips part in a groan while he kneads his hard cock for me, I take the shot.
“Fuck, Viv, are you wet for me?” he rasps.
“Yes. Very wet.” I’m running out of film, out of patience, out of breath.
God, I want him.
“Take it off,” he demands. “Hand me the camera and take off your dress.”
Obeying, I hand him my camera, watching him set it beside him as I tug my hem up. Lifting my dress until he sees my simple, white cotton bikini panties.
“Fuucckk, Smokeshow.” His breath sounds labored. “Fuck, I can see the creamy spot on your panties. I can see how wet your pussy is for me.”
I feel it, and keep going, lifting my dress until I toss it onto the floor over his discarded towel.
“Holyfuck,” he murmurs, gazing up at me. “Holy fuck, Vivian. Your body. Your curves. Those little tits. Goddamn, woman. You’re the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.”
He’s fisting his cock while I stand, straddling him. “These?” Plucking at my tingling nipples, I get bolder, wetter for him. “Are these the hard little nipples you want to suck, Jace?”
“Fuck, yes. Goddamn, Vivian, I want you this much.”
He tugs his briefs down, exposing his swollen crown with drops of precum leaking from his engorged tip.
I suck in a breath, insisting, “Take my picture.”
“What?” He swallows. “Your picture? Viv, you sure? I mean, with the video already, and?—”
“I trust you, Jace.” This feeling overwhelms me. This need to love photography again. This desire to do this with him. This right I have to expect a mannotto hurt me, because Jace never would. “I want this with you, please.”
Lifting my camera from the bed, he turns the lens on me. Through his eyes, I feel beautiful. Empowered. Burning to do this with him.
“Tell me how to pose for you.”
“Fuck, Vivian. Goddamn.” He pauses, licking his lips before suggesting, “Pull your little wet cotton panties aside, baby, and show me that pretty, pink pussy.”
Oh my god, yes. His mouth is as dirty as his heart is pure.
