Ropes and Lace | MM Romance PREVIEW

Chapter 4 - Please Me

His cock is pierced, too.

I notice it after I stand behind the sophisticated camera, with the reflectors ready and the spotlights on, all pointed in his direction, highlighting details that previously went overlooked due to the dim lighting. Like the twin moles on the inside of his right thigh, near the knee. Like a c-shaped birthmark on his left breastplate, right next to the armpit. Like the two bars running vertically across the crown of his penis and the three silver rings with small spheres in the center in the sac of his testicles. Sweet Jesus, those must have hurt, but they're certainly quite eye-catching. Doesn't mean I'm suddenly motivated to do the same.

I'm not that brave.

"Are you all right? You look a bit... flushed," Elliot points out, with a hint of mischievous satisfaction in his green-as-fresh-grass gaze, stroking his thin lower lip with the tip of his little finger; calculating, assessing.

"Uh, yeah," I shrug, feigning indifference. I don't think I've convinced him. "I'm just not used to this kind of session, that's all."

Surprise sessions, it should be emphasized. Because yes, the fact that Elliot is naked causes a multitude of butterflies to flutter in my belly and me to sweat profusely, but I signed the contract, read the clauses and the conditions. I was aware of what I was going to face, although, apparently, what I didn't know was when. I'm not sure what he wanted to achieve by catching me unprepared, and I'm not sure if I should be offended or admire him for his boldness. However, a malicious small voice in my mind warns me about the possibility that this might be related to his previous photographer, hence his abrupt and aggressive reaction when I brought it up, when I wanted to inquire into the stranger's identity. Shit, the curiosity ingrained in my system is increasing with each passing second and I fear that the insistent need for answers will cause me to act recklessly in the future.

It's manageable for now, especially since Elliot made it clear that this is a test and if I aspire to cash that fat check so I can pay off the myriad of debts waiting for me at home, I need to pass. I have to measure up. I have to exceed his expectations, because I suspect he won't settle for anything less than perfect. I take a deep breath, gathering the crumbs of courage scattered through my bloodstream, and rush to perform the task I delayed as long as I could: using the light meter*. I extract the device from my bag and, with hesitant steps and shivers raising even the tiniest hairs on my skin, I approach Elliot, who watches my movements with meticulous attention and a glint of amusement in his emerald eyes.

"How do you want me?" Oh, God. Is that a trick question? Because if it is, the bastard is very, very cruel.

"Y-you're fine like that," I hesitate, clearing my throat, because the jerk often chooses the worst circumstances to ridicule me. "Unless you wish to change of position."

"Eventually," he adds lightly, a fleeting smile stretching the corners of his mouth.

I nod, holding the device tightly so that the telltale tremor in my hand isn't obvious. I guide it from his feet, up his delicate ankles, calves, the rest of his fleshy legs, his waist and, because it's critical to effectively perform my job, his dick, too. I startle as it contracts, slowly awakening, hardening under my stunned supervision, the metal of the piercings glinting softly, almost winking naughtily at me. Elliot's laughter unnerves me that much more and I recoil instinctively, suppressing the overwhelming urge to run out of here as if my ass was on fire.

"What's so funny?" I growl, slightly hurt and annoyed, the burning in my cheeks indicating that I'm blushing.

"Why are you this nervous?" He counters when he calms down, resuming his previous posture, his jaw resting on his pale knuckles. "This, compared to what I'll be doing in the next scenes, is insignificant. I don't mean to insult you, please believe me. But can I trust that the pictures will be flawless? That they won't be blurry or out of focus? That I won't have to be here all night until you relax enough to stop shivering like a leaf? My clients' patience is finite, Ashton and, if I'm being honest, mine is, too."