Behind His Lens(52)

A soft chuckle sounds from Jude as he closes the door and turns back to me with a hungry gaze.

“You can punish me all you want, but the rooms mine,” I smirk.

Quicker than I could have imagined, Jude’s across the room and pulling my feet out from under me so that I fall back onto the bed with a loud thud. I gasp in surprise as the pillows catch my head, but before I can even think to react, he drags me down by my boots so that my legs hang off the bed.

My heart is practically in my throat as he bends down to hover over me, placing each of his hands on either side of my head. I have no clue what we’re doing, but I don’t want him to stop. I feel like I’ll spontaneously combust if he walks away now.

He holds his gaze steady with mine as I watch him bend down to tug the bottom of my sweater up. He gently nips my stomach with his teeth.

“Jude,” I moan, scared of the power he has over me.

His teeth keep gently nipping higher and higher until he reaches my neck and then he nips my earlobe. The sensation of his lips against that skin is so erotic that my eyes roll back into my head and my back arches.

His husky words break through my cloud of pleasure, “I think I should get some kind of compensation if you’re getting the room with the better view.”

My chest quivers as my lungs try desperately to expand fully. I have two options, I can give in and offer something or I can keep playing his game. I choose option two.

“Should I arrange for a model to come by your room? They’ve been eyeing you this whole trip. Who do you want? That pretty brunette? I’ll have her come compensate you after our fitting.” I thrust my hips up so that they meet his groin in a seductive wave as I drawl out the word compensate. I know I’m playing with fire.

He growls and cups my chin so that I can’t tilt my head away. The move should scare me, but instead, it turns me on, morphing me into a puddle of desire. I like this side of him. The side that won’t let me get away with my snarky games. I want him to force me to open up to him. Physically and emotionally.

With his hand on my chin, he grinds himself against me there, once, twice, over and over again until I feel like I’m going to lose my mind. “Are you listening to me, Charley?”

I gulp, “Yes…” His pants and my jeans are the only barriers between us, but they feel transparent when he grinds hard like that.

“I. Don’t. Want. Them,” he bites out.

We stare into each other’s eyes with a fierce intensity.

“Then take what you want, Jude,” I whisper demandingly. His eyes glow with unspoken desire when those words slip out of my mouth. Did I really just say that?

His brow cocks and he sweeps his lips down over mine, so gently that I’m not sure if they’re actually on me or not. “I plan on it, Charley. But it’s almost four and you have fittings.” And with that, he grabs my arms and hauls me up off the bed.

He’s gone from the room before I even fully catch my breath. How does he do that? How does he turn my world completely upside-down?

…

You can hardly even call them fittings. After all, we’re only modeling string bikinis and simple cover ups. But they wanted to be sure that they had everything in the correct size, so we’re set up in a conference room inside the resort. Models fling clothes everywhere as they change into their swimsuits, and the stylists flit around taking measurements and adjusting straps and ties.

They have a few styles picked out for me, but for tomorrow, I’ll be in a white bikini that has a twisted bandeau top and a strappy Brazilian bottom. It’s more revealing than any of the suits I packed for the trip, but it fits like a glove and it looks amazing paired with the delicate gold chain the stylists tie from my neck down to my waist. It looks like something a celebrity would wear as they’re tromping around on their honeymoon. I tug gently on the thin chain as the stylists swarm around me.

“How the hell are your boobs that big when you’re this size?” The small raven-haired girl asks as she adjusts my swimsuit bottom. I blush peaking down at the top of the bathing suit. My breasts are spilling out of the tight top, and I have to fight the urge to adjust the material to cover them more.

“They aren’t that big…” I try to assure myself, and anyone else in earshot, but the stylist huffs and steps back to inspect her work.

“Ugh, you lucky bitch.” She laughs and whips around to go grab another suit. I use the opportunity to go and stand in front of one of the numerous full length mirrors positioned throughout the room. I gasp when I see my reflection. My tanned skin looks like it’s glowing beneath the gold body-necklace even in the harsh resort lighting. I’m sure it’ll be even better when we’re out on the beach. I twist on the balls of my feet to check out the back and almost faint when I see how much of my ass is exposed from the Brazilian style bottom. It’s not a thong, thank God, but it cuts sharply, revealing quite a handful. Jude is going to freak and I can’t help but smile at the thought.