Click

I smile inwardly as I hear the sound, keeping my eyes half closed and turned away as you had asked. The sun feels good on my skin and I want to stretch like the kitten that you say I remind you of. But I know, when you are working, discipline is the key.

You move toward me and your hands touch my arms in a manner almost clinical, adjusting, stepping back and evaluating. You finger skims my jaw as you lift my face more angling it towards the shadows. The dress you had picked for me, loose and flowing, held up only by two small straps at my shoulders, moves with the slight wind. You look at the sun, check the shadows at my back, the dappled pattern of the foliage on my skin. You seem satisfied and turn to pick up your equipment again.

I pose for a while, saying nothing as you fiddle and shoot. I hear a quiet curse and turn, you are searching through a bag, not finding what you are looking for. I take the opportunity to stretch out the kinks, making a sound of pleasure as my muscles sigh. Your head is down and I look my fill, enjoying the sight of you with a scowl on your face and your mind full of your work. The look of concentration on your face speaks to a little devil inside of me and I cannot resist.

You look up as I walk toward you, the same scowl still there but now directed at me.

“Something wrong?” you ask.

Your voice tingles through me, annoyance mixed with affection. I walk closer stopping within inches of your body.

“I need…something.” I say, staring at your strong face.

“What? Water?”

I almost smile in anticipation. But that would ruin the effect that I hope for. “Mmm,” is all female and you cock a brow at me in question.

My hand moves toward your face, stops short of touching you. I toy with a strand of your hair that refuses to lay still before sliding my hand through your hair and to the back of your neck. I pull you closer, lifting myself on the thin black heels that you had picked to go with the dress.

“This,” I sigh an instant before my mouth flutters against yours. I angle my head, moving my lips against yours lightly, slipping my tongue out to play with the corners of your mouth. I move an inch closer, feeling the heat from your body touch my skin. There is an impression of lean chest close to mine, strong arms laden with equipment, near my body. But never touching. I deepen the kiss, sliding my tongue through your lips to taste the dark rich flavors of your mouth. Pleasure washes over me, tingles through me, tightening my nipples against the soft fabric. With a pleased exhale, I pull back, smile up at your bemused face before returning to the place you picked for me to pose.

I lick my lips, tasting you on them, pressing them together to hold onto that taste. I can see your gaze follow my tongue, hear the heavy sound of the breath you exhale. The little devil in me grins.

You set down your equipment, carefully. It pleases me that you have that control over your needs. If you didn’t, things would definitely go too fast. You start toward me and I take up the pose you had last placed me in, angling my face away from you. The strap of my dress slips down my arm, the deep neckline of the dress catches on my nipple, staying there by the wisp of a prayer. “Is this how you want me?” I ask, all innocence.

I hear the comment you make under your breath, a dark promise of how you want me and how you’ll take me before you turn back to your equipment. You fix whatever was wrong and I hear the shutter click once more. I know this shoot is important to you, these pictures necessary for the layout you are doing so I try my best to behave. But kittens have been known to be impish when the mood catches. And watching you watch me through the eye of the camera, the steadiness of your hands as I preen in front of you, is too much temptation for me.

You ask me to move, and I do twisting just so that the dress slides down and my breast is exposed to your gaze. My head is turned, looking down, one arm next to my side, the other across my waist.

“Don’t move.” The order almost makes me jump but I obey. I hide the smile behind downcast eyes and innocent expressions as you move around me with your camera. The wind picks up, pulling hair from the upswept style and making the long strands flutter around my face.

I move once more, shifting so the dress slides further, the other tiny strap catching against my elbow leaving me naked from the waist up. The sun against my skin makes me want to purr in unabashed pleasure and I arch my back, lifting my breasts. The wind flirts with my skin, tautening my nipples and I shiver a little as it tingles through me.

You put your camera down and I look up at you, smiling, unashamed that I delight so in my body. You move close, your tee shirt brushing against my hands. I catch it, both hands at your waist, holding on to you. Your hands come to my face, cupping it, lifting it until you are inches from me.

“You’re a natural,” you say to me. “A minx, a seductress. I want you, kitten.” You take the last step that melds our bodies together as thoroughly as you meld your mouth to mine. Your fingers touch my collarbone, slide over to my shoulders, down my back, arching me into your body. Your hands are warm against my body, strong and slightly rough. A working man’s hands that aren’t afraid to be gentle.

The dress is caught at my waist, held by the straps caught at my elbows, holding my arms down. I want to touch you, feel your chest against my breasts. I struggle against the straps but you stop me, holding me with those big hands against my waist.

“Stay still, kitten.” You kiss my mouth, your lips clinging to mine in a way that sends shivers through me. “Let me.” Your hand cups my breast, your fingers delicately squeezing, thumb caressing waves of heat through me. I try to shift so that you find my nipple but you hold me still, that one hand controlling the movements of my body.

“So soft,” you mutter, looking down. “So beautiful.” Your eyes are on my breast and my nipple tightens to a fine hard point under them. You groan and drop your head, angling me back across your arm so that you can reach it’s hardness with your mouth.

My body convulses in pleasure as you draw my nipple deep into your mouth, laving it with your tongue, suckling, then pulling gently with your teeth. You pull away, watching it glisten with the moistness from your mouth as I utter a cry at the loss.

“Shawn.”

You hear the plea in my ragged breathless cry. But your control is so much better than mine. You drop a small kiss on my nipple and stand me back on my feet. My hands are at your waist still, my mouth inches from yours. You can feel the need radiating from me almost like a tangible thing. You lift me effortlessly into your arms and carry me off to a patch of clover under a towering oak tree.

The ground is cool under my skin, your body hot above mine. I manage to untangle my arms and reach for your shirt. I want to feel your skin, hot and hard, against my own. The shirt comes off quickly with your help and you toss it to the side before enclosing my face with your hands. Your lips are hot against mine, no longer teasing or tempting, demanding. Your tongue sweeps into my mouth then retreats and I follow it with my own. You capture it, gently sucking. Your hands slip down my body, sliding over my curves, pushing the dress down my legs and off to join your shirt. My hands roam your back as you trace gentle fingers up my leg starting at my knee. Your hands, so strong, so gentle amaze me with their elegance of movement, deftness of control. You can handle the tiniest piece of a camera with the same complete dexterity that you have handling a woman’s body.

Your fingers find the tiny scrap of material across my crotch, slip just under the stretchy lace. I tense beneath you, breathless as you slip ever closer to where I most want those fingers, where I most desperately want you. I cry out, a startled sound of pleasure, when you find my wet flesh, damp with need, hot and swollen with desire. My hips move under your hand, my thighs closing over it to hold it there.

You can’t believe how turned on I’ve been, how badly I want you. Your finger slips inside of me, pushing, stretching, filling me. One, and then two fingers stretching my flesh while your thumb finds my clit. I buck under you, uncontrolled, needy. “Please,” I plead, my hand sliding down your arm, over your hand that is moving inside me. “Please, Shawn.”

My head falls back, my eyes close as you move your hand under mine. There is tension in the long slim column of my neck as you bring me ever closer. Your eyes are watching me, I can feel them against my skin like a caress. I reach for the pleasure, desperately, arching as the spike of heat fills me shivering through my system. You can feel the convulsions around your fingers as I cum, feel the spurt of warmth in your palm.

Your hands are no longer steady as you strip my tiny panties off. My explosion of pleasure, the musky scent of my sex as eroded your control. You know that I can take all of you now, deep and hard. You lift me over you as you strip out of what is left of your clothing. Your hands are on my thighs even as you stare up into my passion drunk face.

I rest my hands on your chest, lifting myself and guiding your long, hard cock into me. You stretch me even farther and I feel a spurt of renewed need, an ache flow through me. I rest my hands on either side of your face as you grip my hips guiding me to the pace you love. I move up, almost letting you slide out before thrusting back down on you. Your hands pluck the pins out of my hair, gathering the tresses as they fall around you pulling me down to your mouth as I ride you.

Your tongue is as hot as your cock, filling my mouth with the same heat. My breasts brush your chest with every move, my nipples rubbing against your flesh, exciting me, exciting the need until I am writhing against you. I cum again, hard around your cock crying out softly.

“Again,” you whisper in my ear. You pull me off you, moving me with the ease you used earlier when you posed me. I’m on my knees, your behind me, your arm wrapped around my waist. You slide into my heat again, easily, smoothly, wetly. Your hips flex and I moan as unbelievably, I feel it again. The need, the heat tingling deep in me, a spot you seem to reach so effortlessly.

“God, Shawn.” I moan your name, reaching behind me to hold your hips as you move, my fingers digging in to hold on. “I can’t,” I whimper.

“Yes, you can. Take it.” Your hand slips down my taut stomach cups my pussy. Your head is next to mine, looking down at my body as you thrust into me.

The way you are moving, the angle of your thrusts reach deep and I feel the talon like grasp of another orgasm. I fight it, it’s too much. “I can’t.”

Your finger finds my clit through my wet lips and I moan again. “Now, kitten,” you gasp against my neck, biting gently.

Pleasure erupts through me, an explosion of heat that shoots from my core. I feel you thrust hard and deep, hear your moan as I cry out. One word is torn from you as pleasure pulses.

“Danielle.”