Chapter 7 #2
I lap up the praise, responding as he shoots.
He juggles between stills and video of me in the water, on the bank, standing under the waterfall with just my leg, side and breast visible through the falling curtain of water, making me feel like an otherworldly being stepping through a portal.
Mini rainbows forming around me and disappearing as quickly as they appear.
All the while, he whispers about how stunning I look, how good the shots are turning out, and how much he loves me.
I’m sitting with my feet in the water when he crouches beside me and lets his hand run up my leg.
He wraps his palm around my thigh and presses it to the side, opening my legs for him.
I moan softly, eyes widening as he cups me between my legs.
I hear the snap of his camera, shooting close ups of his hand pressed over my pussy.
Adrenaline rushes through me. His hand squishes on my wetness.
“These ones are just for us,” he murmurs, his finger trailing through my wetness and effortlessly penetrating my slippery entrance.
I relax, pleasure spiralling through me as he presses two fingers inside me. I brace myself on the rock, head falling back as he plays with me, the snap of the shutter sending shivers over me. Exciting me more than I imagined.
“Look how beautiful you are,” he says, kneeling between my thighs as his thumb finds my clit.
He turns the camera so I can see the photos, showing me, myself.
Flushed. Breathing slowly. Lips parted. My eyes fixed on his.
Water glistening off my skin, my thigh dimpled slightly beneath Oliver’s grip.
The next photo shows a close up of his hand on me, sensual and explicit.
It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
I reach a shaking hand for his camera, and he lets me take it, curiosity in his face.
He pumps his fingers faster. His thumb strums rhythmically.
My orgasm approaches rapidly as I watch through the lens, taking photos of him looking lovingly up at me with dilated pupils and a dominant expression with his hand between my legs, working steadily, bringing me to climax amongst birds, soft sun, cool spring water and the constant gentle ambient splash of the waterfall.
“My turn,” I whisper after several minutes of quiet recovery. I help him out of his clothes and throw them away anywhere, too out of my mind with lust to care.
“So fucking perfect,” he groans as I finally get him naked and take him in my hand, stroking his rigid length as I hand him the camera again.
I press my lips to the tip of his glans, kissing gently.
He moans and pushes his cock forward. I let him slip into my mouth then tighten my lips around his shaft, taking it deeper.
I bob faster and he moans louder, dropping the camera to his side.
“Just for us,” I repeat as I lie back on the moss and pull him with me.
Oliver braces one hand beside my head, holding the camera over me with the other.
I smile up at him as the shutter fires off rapidly: One of my hand grabbing at the grass as he thrusts against me, teasing me and sparking all that wound up tension back to life.
One of my stomach and hip, then down to where we’re nearly joined.
Then, finally, he aims the camera at my face as he thrusts into me and I cry out.
Slow motion, fast motion, slow motion, faster motion.
Fuck, I already know I want those pictures framed in the bedroom of the home I know we’ll share together one day.
The thought of it and the feel of him throws me over the edge. I cry out as I come, and he places the camera down and covers me completely. His mouth is on my neck, my lips, my nipples, kissing me everywhere as he fucks me through my orgasm.
There’s no time for me to recover from the pleasure before it’s building again. He angles us so that with every thrust he hits the place inside me that drives me insane, and I thank God that this spot is so secluded because I couldn’t keep myself quiet even if my life depended on it.
“Oh, God, Oliver!” I cry out, nails scratching at his back as I move with him.
“All mine,” he growls in my ear as he thrusts deep, claiming me as thoroughly with his body as he is with his words. “You’re mine, Emma. I don’t care what it takes, I’m never letting you go, consequences be damned. My muse, my love, mine!”
“Yours,” I manage to agree before bliss overwhelms me again. My inner walls clutch at him, my body desperate to keep him close, and he curses, gasping my name as he comes with me.
For a while, we lie together in this little slice of peace and tranquility, but then the sun hides behind the trees and a familiar chill skitters over my skin.
The second I start to shiver, Oliver picks me up and dresses me, pulling my jumper over my head and finding my hair tie to gather my damp hair off my neck.
I revel in the way he looks after me, leaning into him gratefully. The walk back to the house is slow and sweet, holding hands and listening to the birds sing around us.
When we get back, he bundles us both into the shower, washing every inch of me with careful reverence that inevitably ends up with us moaning each other’s names again.
Finally, we’re clean and dry and curled up in bed. Jet lag and exhaustion from the walk and all the sex catch up with us, and we drift off to sleep under the covers, tangled together and totally inseparable.