Billionaire Romance Boxed Set 2(125)

In front of the hearth was a sofa. Or, somewhat of a sofa. I had a couch back at my apartment, but this thing was about four times as big. It curled into a “U” shape at the ends, making the middle of the living room into more of an intimate gathering place for a small group of people. Then the kitchen, to the sides, with a small dining area past that. And stairs, of course, that must lead to bedrooms on the second floor, but would we go that far?

Could we go that far? I really wanted to know how to arrive at that answer.

Before I knew what was going on, Asher picked me up. He held me in his arms, one hand behind my shoulders with the other under the crook of my knees, and carried me towards his sofa. Dropping me onto it, he held up a finger and told me to wait.

“I’ll be right back,” he said. “I’m going to get my camera.”

I nodded, dumbstruck, staring at him, open-mouthed. When he left, I continued staring, but managed to turn my attention towards the fireplace.

We weren’t in the city anymore. I could tell as much by looking through the glass walls. Asher’s guest house had a magnificent view, with a hill sloping downwards and the clear horizon directly in front of me. Looking lower towards the bottom of the hill, I saw the city in the distance. Not too far, but far enough to look small. I lived there, I knew, but from this vantage point it looked like an entirely different place. Unrecognizable. It wasn’t late enough for it, not yet, but with sun crawling downwards from its peak, in a few more hours, if I stayed here until then, I imagined I’d have the most beautiful view of the sunset.

Asher returned with his camera, holding it up for me to see. It was a newer model, but that was all I knew from looking at it. Fancy, probably, because I doubted he would spare any cost on something he enjoyed. If I could afford to, I’d do the same. I’d buy books, a huge library, sit in there for hours at a time, reading. Curling into a chair while wearing a bathrobe and sipping at a cup of hot cocoa, and…

“Shall we get started?” Asher asked.

I turned shy again. I’d just modeled for him in his car, sort of, and now I didn’t know how to do it. I technically knew, of course, but now he was actually going to snap pictures, so it wasn’t at all the same. I tried explaining that to him.

“I don’t know how,” I said, my voice timid.

Asher smiled at me. “Just do exactly as I say,” he said.

I nodded, scared. I would do this.

“Lean back on the sofa,” he said. “Put your elbows down so you’re resting on them. Lift both your legs and rest them on the back of the sofa.”

I did as he asked, but I didn’t think this was sexy. I wasn’t doing it right, I knew that, but I also didn’t know how to do it right, either.

Asher stepped forward. He showed me where to put my elbows, and he ran his fingers along my chest towards my stomach. He meant to show me how he wanted my body to curve, I thought, but his touch distracted me. Moving one of my feet, he set it close to where I’d originally rested it on the sofa’s back, but he bent my other leg so my knee was closer to my stomach, albeit a foot or so higher. As a finishing touch, he placed his hand on my chin and made me face him.

“Give me your sexiest look,” he said. Before I could complain, he added, “Don’t think about it, Jessika. Close your eyes, look down, part your lips. Think of something. It can be anything, but think of something that makes you smolder inside.”

I did it. I closed my eyes and parted my lips and let my mind wander. I thought of him and his office and his private meeting room table. I thought of his fingers slipping inside me, so smooth and easy, and my body melting as he manipulated me with his hands. I thought of the restaurant, The Simple Path, and his foot pressing against my panty-covered crotch, teasing my arousal-slick folds. The car, his lap, my body grinding and pressing against him, wanting him.

Click. Click. Click.

He took pictures, but I was so far out of it and lost in my imagination that I didn’t realize it at first. I leaned back, moving my elbows, but still the camera clicked away. Different spots, different angles. Asher moved my feet downwards onto the couch and I spread them slightly. He came in closer, took pictures of different areas, at different angles, but I kept my eyes closed the entire time.

“Wonderful,” he said. “You’re beautiful, Jessika.”

He moved my hands towards my panties, placing my fingers along the sides of my pubis, underneath the fabric of my underwear. Click. Click. With my eyes still closed, because I wanted to keep them that way, he asked me to stand and do more poses for him. My thumb pulled at the side of my panties waistband in some provocative display of near removal, and he captured pictures of that, too. From the front, and behind, the sides.