VAIN: Part One(8)

"F*ck me, Alexa." The low growl of his voice instantly pours into me. "Christ, you're gorgeous."
I pull in a heavy breath before I look at him. His cock has sprung to full attention and I briefly wonder if I can void our agreement and just sit on his lap right here and right now. "What now?" I sound anxious. It makes sense given the fact that my heart is beating so wildly in my chest that I can't help but wonder if the people in the apartment below him can hear the rhythmic pounding of it.
"Get on the bed." He points to the middle of the bed and I settle myself there, unsure of anything else.
"Like this?" I ask tentatively. I wish I could redo the past day. When he'd handed me the non-disclosure agreement and contract stating that I gave him free rein to take as many images as he wants, I saw it as an adventure I'd likely never get the chance to partake in again. Now, I just feel awkward and uncomfortable.
"Lay back." He moves to the side of the bed and gently guides my shoulder down. "Just relax. I'm going to take a few test shots for lighting."
I nod in agreement and push my back into the bed, before I pull my hands over my stomach. I desperately want to cover my breasts but it will do little good. My entire, nude body is on full display and he's focused intently on his camera. I hear the distinctive sound of the shutter clicking as he takes one image after another before studying the results.
"The lighting is just right." He leaps onto the bed in one swift movement. "You need to relax." He peers out from behind the camera to lock eyes with me.
That's much easier said than done. I'm sprawled out completely exposed on his bed while he towers over me with his dick bobbing madly in the air in response to every single movement he makes.
"I'm trying," I whisper through clenched teeth. If I can just stop looking at him, I'll be able to focus on the task at hand. I can't think about sex. I can't think about coming. I can't think about anything but posing for him.
"When's the last time you were f*cked, Alexa?"
Well, hell. Now what?

Chapter 6

"You can't ask me that." I spring up from the bed into a sitting position. I'm suddenly even more aware of how visible every inch of me is right now.
He teeters back on his heels trying to regain his footing on the mattress. "Whoa, calm down. It's just a question."
I reach aimlessly for any part of a sheet that I can use to cover myself. I knew this was a mistake. My inner good girl was screaming at me that I'd regret this. I'm not five minutes in and I'm wishing I could dive under the bed and hide. I don't want to talk about sex with him. I want to have sex with him. "You didn't say anything about personal questions." I don't actually sound as freaked out over this as I feel, do I?
"I was trying to get you to relax." He drops to his knees now and I can literally almost reach out and brush my lips against his. He looks so devastatingly alluring. Why am I not having sex with him right now?
"By asking me about my sex life?"
"Alexa." His hand grazes across my shoulder. "This is a process. I need you to relax and talking about sex helps people relax."
"What people?" I push my arm across my breasts to cover them at the very same moment I pull my knees to my chest. I'm not going for attractive right now. I'm going for coverage and this stance, albeit awkward, is working for me.
"Women." His tongue flits over his lips. "When a woman talks about the men she's slept with, her body changes."
"Changes?" I swallow hard to stave off the increasing dryness that is overtaking my mouth. I'm so parched. I feel as though I'm sitting in the middle of a desert with absolutely nothing in sight to satiate me.
He studies me with a furrowed brow as he stands to reach for a chilled bottle of water sitting atop a small table by the window. "Here." He twists the cap to open it before shoving it harshly into my hand.
I greedily take it from him and swallow half the bottle in a single gulp. My teeth finally feel as though they aren't glued to the inside of my lips. "What changes?" I repeat, not wanting to miss the answer that I'm sure will make little to no sense to me. His curiosity about my last lover has nothing to do with our photo shoot. I know I'm right about that.
"I asked the wrong question." He leans back and rests one hand on the bed. "Let's start with your most memorable lover."
I crease my forehead in confusion. "No." I shake my head. "Let's start with why you think it's necessary to talk about the men I've f*cked."