looking out in contemplation.
My focus wandered back to the desk, where photos captured my interest. I leaned over to look closer and recognized myself.
Shit.
There were several shots of me asleep. Not naked or salacious in any way, but with my eyes closed and my mouth agape.
I whispered, “What the fuck?”
My hair was spread all over the pillow as I slept, oblivious to the world. I’d never seen photos of myself asleep, and once I got over the horror of my drooling mouth opened wide enough to have swallowed an owl, I became fascinated. I could almost glean a smile. So that was what an afterglow from multiple orgasms looked like.
That romantic moment didn’t last because a chill resurfaced. Twisted and weird was the only way to describe a man who took snapshots of the woman he’d just fucked while she slept.
Lost in my own world, I jumped when a deep voice intruded on my silence.
“What are you doing here?”
I turned and saw Blake, stark naked with the moonlight bathing his masculine frame. I snapped a mental photo of male perfection. Michelangelo, or more appropriately, given the dark shadows that bathed that mass of muscle, Caravaggio would have rolled in his grave, itching to paint Blake. I know I would have loved to. That idea played out in my subconscious while my body melted at the sight of him. But then I caught the dark anger in his eyes, and my spirit shriveled into a tight ball.
“Um… I came looking for you.” He must have noticed my trembling legs, for his face softened a little.
23
* * *
BLAKE
HER FACE CRUMPLED WITH FEAR. I drew her away from the table, where those photos that I’d taken in a moment of madness lay.
“I knew that was a bad idea,” I said quietly.
“What?” she asked, her feisty tone making me flinch.
“Having you stay.”
Penelope looked at me as though I’d killed her cat.
“I meant to say…” I adjusted my weight. “I couldn’t help myself. You looked so beautiful.”
“It’s just a little creepy.” She moved to the door. “I think I should go.”
I followed her back to my bedroom, where she proceeded to remove my robe. I liked seeing her in it and wished I could rewind that last scene so that my hands could slip in and smooth over her warmth. That was inappropriate, considering the sudden tension, but my dick turned to steel as her eyes fired daggers into mine.
“Why would you photograph me like that? Are there others of me in the nude with my legs apart?”
I wish.
I would have paid thousands for photos of her post orgasm, her lips parted, those gorgeous brown eyes shining with guilty desire, with her legs apart and her pretty pussy creamy just after I’d fucked her.
I took a deep breath. “You looked so beautiful asleep that I wanted to capture it. And no, I don’t have pornographic shots.” I arched an eyebrow. “You would’ve known. I would have asked for your consent.”
She scrambled about, picking up her bra and the torn panties, which I’d ripped off earlier.
“Penelope, it’s still dark. Go back to bed. We’ll talk about this later.”
“Where were you?” she persisted, sitting on the bed.
If only she knew how she twisted me inside out. Seeing her naked robbed me of words. She must have noticed how my dick sat upright against my navel.
“I slept in the other room.”
“But why? I don’t bite,” she said. A tiny smile tried to push its way through.
“You do a little.” I grinned.
She rolled her eyes. “Why won’t you sleep with me? It feels weird.”
“I don’t do relationships, Penelope. And I need to sleep alone.”
“Then what are we doing?”
“We’re fucking.” I pushed my hair back almost violently. “I also like talking to you.”
“You mentioned you didn’t want to share me. Isn’t that a relationship?”
“It could be seen as that.” I sat down on the bed and took her into my arms.
She let me hold her, and I buried my face in her soft neck.
“Come to bed,” I whispered.
She lay down.
Heated from her angry outburst, her lips burned on my mouth, and her body melted into mine.
I turned her around and rubbed my dick against her cool round ass, my finger lubricated by her drenched arousal. I could barely breathe. It was as though I’d discovered her for the first time again. My hand trembled—such was my hunger for her. I entered her with my fingers, and her tight muscles contracted. I needed to be inside her or else I’d come