Exposure

by Ember Dante

  A rough, raspy sound slipped between my teeth, and I realized it was a sad attempt at laughter. I lifted my chin and saw cornflower blue eyes framed by deep shadows staring back at me. The stress of the past few days had taken its toll on him, too. He’d abandoned his anger by the next morning, and focused on being the rock that I needed. Although he must have been frustrated by my constant refusals to rejoin the human race, he hadn’t tried to push or force me. He was simply giving me time to sort through things in my own way.

  One hand lifted, caressing my uninjured cheek with the backs of his fingers, a whisper against my skin that was every bit as comforting as the embrace itself. The warmth of his smile was like a balm on my soul, and I felt my resolve strengthen—a little.

  “Would you come with me?”

  “To the bathroom?”

  I nodded as more tears spilled from my eyes. “I don’t want to be in there alone.”

  “Would you rather go across the hall? There’s a garden tub in the studio. A long soak might ease the soreness.”

  “Yes, that sounds good.”

  We returned to the bedroom so I could gather a few things—that Ian wouldn’t let me carry. I took the time to brush my teeth before shuffling beside him as we made the short trip across the hall and through the studio. He handled me like a small child, testing the water and filling the tub while I tugged his oversized T-shirt over my head. It was one of his favorites, and I knew he’d appreciate being able to wash it so he could actually wear it again.

  The water felt divine, and Ian sat on the edge of the tub, keeping me company as well as helping me wash my hair. The non-sexual contact was exactly what I needed. Our conversation was light, and we stuck to generic topics, like our upcoming trip to New Orleans. He offered to postpone it, but I wouldn’t let him. He had changed his schedule enough because of me, and for once I was going to be selfish. I needed to get as far away from town as possible for a few days, and going on that trip with him seemed like the perfect solution.

  Afterward, my muscles were still a little sore, so Ian helped me dress—including the overwhelming task of drying and detangling my hair. I still wasn’t very hungry, but to appease him I managed to force down some chicken noodle soup before calling my father. Dad wasn’t angry with me, but like Ian, was ready to open a serious can of whoop-ass on Brett. The rest of the evening was blissfully normal, with a glass or two of wine while we cuddled on the sofa. A bone-deep weariness swept through me, and it wasn’t long before my eyes began to droop, seduced by the oblivion of sleep.

  26

  Emmy

  After almost two weeks and a whirlwind trip to New Orleans, I finally felt ready to get back to work. The small amount of bruising that remained was easily concealed with makeup, so I felt less self-conscious being seen by people I knew. Tyler brought me up to speed on all the office gossip—most of which just happened to be about me, courtesy of my good friend Becky. It seemed she was rallying the troops against me and defending Brett. I didn’t know what her problem was.

  Without any prior convictions, Brett was released on bond with a pending court date. Ian was livid, convinced that a protection order offered little security if Brett set his mind to come after me again. I tried to put on a brave front, but the truth was I lived every day looking over my shoulder. I was terrified. That was the exact reason Ian insisted I move in with him—so he could protect me. I really didn’t think that would make a difference if anything happened, but I had to admit it made me feel better. I had grown to hate being alone, especially in the place where the attack happened.

  Ian had become my safe place, my home, and that realization made me smile as I watched him tidy the kitchen after dinner. I drained the remaining wine from my glass, debating on a refill when Ian strolled around the island to stand in front of me, wearing a contrite expression.

  “I think I owe you an apology.”

  I cocked my head and placed the glass on the countertop. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I didn’t tell you how beautiful you look. I’m almost jealous of Tyler having you all to himself at lunch.”

  I sucked in a breath. “Almost?”

  Using gentle pressure, he placed a finger under my chin and tilted my head back. He brushed his lips across mine, making the slightest contact, the barest whisper against my skin. The touch was so light that if I didn’t feel his warmth, I would swear he never touched me.

  “Yes. Almost. But you came home to me, and I have you all to myself tonight.”

  “You’ve had me all to yourself every night for the past two weeks,” I teased.

  “Yes, I have, and that makes me one lucky son of a bitch.”

  I placed my palm flat against his chest. Heat seeped through his thin shirt, and the steady thump of his heart echoed under my hand.

  “I feel pretty lucky myself.”

  He pressed his lips against mine once again, lingering in place without taking the kiss deeper. My eyes fluttered open and blue eyes stared into mine as the finger under my chin moved down the center of my throat in a slow, lazy motion to tug at the pearls resting atop my collarbone.

  “I like these. They complement your skin tone.”

  Leaning closer, he stroked the tip of his nose along my jaw, stopping beside my ear. His breath caressed my skin, sending a tremor down my spine.

  “Do you trust me, baby?”

  “You know I do.”

  The finger plucking at the necklace slid lower to stroke the space between my breasts. I lowered my gaze, watching the slow glide of his finger, my pulse erratic and my breath rough. Ian’s masterful touch put my entire body on high alert, and suddenly the apartment was too small, too warm. Heat spread through my body and every nerve ending crackled like dry kindling on a campfire.

  “I had an idea for a new pose, and I want you to model for me,” he whispered.

  My eyes flicked to his. “Oh?”

  He backed away, his lips split into a rakish grin.

  “Yep. I thought of it this morning, and I’d love to take you into the studio to try it out.” He deposited a chaste kiss on my lips. “Are you game?”

  All I could do was nod as he took my hand and led me across the hall. Regardless of his plan, I knew it would end with incredible sex—and multiple orgasms. No way in hell was I going to turn that down.

  The studio felt cavernous, dim except for the pinkish hue of twilight bleeding around the edges of the vertical blinds covering the floor to ceiling windows. Ian stopped in the center of the room and cupped my face with both hands.

  “Stay here,” he murmured, brushing his lips across mine.

  Curious, but wanting more, I obeyed—for the time being. His shadowy form made its way to the stereo and music filled the air, drowning out the echo of the heartbeat in my ears. I giggled at his choice—Duran Duran’s Girls on Film. How appropriate.

  Soon after brightness followed, sudden and blinding, while he flipped on lights and positioned them around me. My eyes didn’t fully adjust until he rejoined me and placed a Louis XIV armchair at my back before stepping in front of me. Without speaking, he wrapped his fingers around the back of my neck and covered my mouth in a searing kiss I felt all the way to my toes.

  The motion of our tongues sliding together only partially distracted me from his nimble fingers opening the buttons on my shirt. He pushed it over my shoulders, skimming his fingertips across my skin before casting it aside. The contrast between my internal temperature and the cool air in the studio raised gooseflesh on my exposed skin, and even the pressure of the bra covering my stiff nipples was too much. Ian reached behind me and expertly flicked open the clasp holding the offending garment in place, and I rested my hands on his shoulders as he palmed my breasts, kneading and squeezing the soft flesh.

  “You’re so beautiful.”

  His lips were both soft and firm, feathering kisses down the column of my throat, across my collarbone, and continuing lower to latch onto the taut peak of one breast. He sucked hard
, pulling my nipple between his teeth. The gentle bite set off an electric jolt in my core, and I cried out, a sound that was part moan, part gasp. My fingers tangled in the silky strands of his hair, holding tight while he gave equal attention to my other breast before dropping to his knees and removing the rest of my clothes. These, too, were tossed aside onto the growing pile on the floor.

  The air prickled my bare skin, but all I could feel was the steady burn of the fire Ian lit within me. Every inch of skin was alive with that same energy, and each touch of his fingers was a white-hot brand pressed into my flesh. He stood, and with a mischievous smile on his face nudged me backward into the chair behind me.

  “Relax. I’ll be right back.”

  Leaving me naked and wanting, he strode to a cabinet against the far wall and returned with what appeared to be a very long strand of pearls. Oooh, boy. Things were about to get interesting, no doubt. He dropped them on the floor and knelt before me.

  “You won’t need these,” he whispered, unclasping the pearls circling my throat and slipping them into his pocket. “I’ll just hang onto them for a bit.”

  The anticipation was killing me, and his expression alone—a curious mix of desire, need, and mischief—made it difficult for me to sit and wait. Restless, I squirmed against the crushed velvet seat, its texture coarse and somewhat irritating against my skin. I had just about decided to hell with it when he kissed me, a tender meeting of our lips, before meandering down my torso, delivering gentle nips over my skin. Once he reached my navel, he pulled away, eliciting a frustrated groan. He actually had the nerve to chuckle at my reaction.

  The change in his demeanor was instantaneous the moment he switched into business mode. His touch turned rough, forcing my knees apart until they were beside the legs of the chair. Digging his fingers into my hips, he pulled me forward until I was in a reclining position, my head and shoulders resting against the back of the chair. He reached for the pearls and began winding them in an intricate pattern around my right leg, starting at the ankle and moving to my thigh, tying me to the chair. My right arm received the same treatment, tethered to the armrest from wrist to elbow. The longer I watched, I realized it wasn’t a single length, but rather multiple strands connected end to end.

  Ian moved behind me, looping the beads loosely around my torso and the seat back. He draped my left leg over the chair arm before twining the remaining pearls around my calf and thigh, securing them in place, including my left arm as a finishing touch. Completely restrained, I was spread open and vulnerable. Arousal leaked from my body, trickling to the fabric beneath me.

  “Fuck, babe, that is so hot. You are hot,” he breathed, admiring his handiwork.

  He stepped forward and dragged his middle finger through my cleft, pausing at the top to circle my clit before retracing the same path to slide inside me. Our eyes locked as his finger took up a gentle pumping motion. It was making it difficult to maintain my sanity.

  “You have no idea how much I want you right now,” I moaned.

  “Open your mouth,” he commanded, removing his finger from my body and rubbing the pad back and forth across my lower lip.

  I complied, and he inserted his finger between my teeth, mimicking the motion he used when he fingered me.

  “Suck.”

  Unable to resist the fire raging within me, I closed my lips around his finger. The taste of my arousal coated my tongue as I massaged the digit in my mouth.

  “Stop.”

  He tugged his finger free and popped it into his own mouth, releasing a low, satisfied moan.

  “You taste amazing, baby.”

  Breathless and desperate for more, I tensed, trying to free myself so I could take what I wanted, force him to give me what I needed. Knowing he was driving me mad, he backed away, a seductive smile playing on his lips, and retrieved his camera. The lights flashed, and I closed my eyes, momentarily blinded. When they reopened, all I could see was a dark form moving through the shadows just beyond the small circle of light surrounding me. It was the most erotic experience of my life. There I sat, trussed up, spread open before him. I should have been embarrassed, but the intensity of it all only made me want him that much more.

  He continued shooting, making occasional adjustments to my positioning, stoking my desire to the point I lost all cognizance of time and place. I tried to track his movement, turning my head and arching my back as much as my tight bonds would allow. A loud exhale filled the space between us, and Ian stepped forward, lowering his camera to the floor before removing his own shirt and adding it to the discard pile. His jeans followed soon after, exposing more of his glorious body and the hard ridge of his erection. My tongue swept across my lips, an involuntary gesture to moisten the parched skin as well as an unspoken invitation to take him into my mouth. I’d never been so turned on in my life.

  Dropping to his knees, he trailed his hands up my thighs and under my backside to tilt my pelvis, further exposing my aching center. His thumbs moved over me, from back to front, one dipping inside to tempt and tease. An unrecognizable moan resonated deep within my throat, and my eyes fluttered closed. They snapped open again when his tongue traced the same path. The sensation of his mouth on me caused my hips to buck, but all motion was limited by my tethers. I released another groan when he sucked my clit into his mouth, his teeth scraping over the engorged flesh. Two fingers invaded my wet channel, pumping in and out in a steady rhythm. The familiar stirrings of my orgasm began, but he removed his fingers before I could achieve my release.

  “Ian, please don’t stop,” I panted, begging for my climax.

  “Shhh ... it’s okay, baby. I’ll take care of you.”

  A moment later, I felt him pushing something inside me—something other than his fingers. My eyes widened when I realized it was my necklace. Dear lord, he was trying to kill me. The pressure of his fingers over the beads inside me, coupled with his hand against my belly intensified the sensation and was sure to drive me out of my mind. As soon as the entire strand was buried deep inside me, he covered me with his mouth again, lapping his tongue over me as he continued the sensual assault on the beads. My head fell back, and a loud, almost inhuman wail escaped as my muscles contracted around his fingers.

  Once the spasms subsided, he jerked the necklace from my body, triggering another wave of release. The strands lashing me in place bit into my fevered skin as he pulled me closer to the chair’s edge. Consumed by the euphoria of my orgasm, I was only vaguely aware of the flurry of movement between my thighs. I lifted my head in time to watch him release his straining erection and plunge into me, using my hips as leverage to pull me fully onto him. Instinct took over, and I tried to rock against him.

  “Don’t move, babe,” he gasped, followed by a low growl. “I just want to savor this feeling—you wrapped around me.”

  There was an intense pressure inside me, pleasure tinged with pain, as my body stretched to take him in. The withdrawal was a slow tease before he slammed back inside. He maintained that tempo, but each thrust increased in power, moving the chair backward each time, the feet scraping across the wood floor. Music continued to fill the air, but I could just make out the sounds he made with each exertion.

  “Ian ... I need to touch you.” I panted in time with his thrust. “Please.”

  His fingers fumbled with the strands wrapped around my arm, and the loosened beads fell free when I reached for him. My leg muscles jerked, ripping the strand from the chair and sending beads scattering across the floor. He quickly released the rest of my bonds and settled me in his lap, folding my legs around his waist. Free of the chair, but still wrapped in pearls, I twined my arms around his neck and planted my feet on the floor for leverage as I rode him in time to the song playing. The powerful beat of Rammstein surrounded us, driving our movements and pushing us closer to a shared climax.

  “Fuck, baby, I’m close.” He nipped at my neck. “Come on, babe, I need you with me.”

  “Oh, God, yes.” I tangled one han
d in his hair while the other grasped his shoulder, my nails digging into his muscle. “I’m almost there.”

  “What do you need?”

  He lowered his head, brushing his lips over the space behind my ear before moving down my throat. There was a familiar sting followed by a wet suction.

  “Only you,” I whispered. “I only need you.”

  “You’ve got me, Beautiful.” His pace increased, becoming erratic, and he made another low noise in his throat. “I love you.”

  He claimed my mouth in another kiss—one filled with the taste of love, longing, and desire. Our mouths separated, but our gazes locked. The connection pushed me over the edge, and I cried out as my muscles clenched around him, setting off his orgasm with a guttural moan rumbling in his throat. Once his movements slowed, he lowered us to the floor, supporting himself on one arm while his free hand moved over me in a lazy pattern. My hands were restless, skating from his jaw down to his well-defined abs.

  “I love you, Em,” he whispered, placing a sweet, chaste kiss on my lips.

  “I love you, too.” I bit down on my bottom lip. “That was pretty fucking hot.”

  “Liked that, did you?” He laughed.

  I nodded, smiling. “I didn’t know modeling could be so much fun.”

  He brushed his lips across mine. “I think it’s some of my best work.”

  My heart skipped, and I briefly wondered what it would feel like to be part of Ian’s exhibit. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” His gaze met mine and he gave a subtle shake of his head. “But those are just for us. I don’t share.”

  There was something about the way he said it, his voice both husky with lust and yet resolute, that made me fall even deeper in love with him. I shifted beneath him and folded my legs around his hips.

  “Did I mention that I really like it when you get possessive like that?”

  I didn’t know how he managed it after what we’d just done, but he was hard in an instant and back inside me.