Одри Карлан - February (Calendar Girl #2)

Alec clomped down the ladder. “This is not working. Pas bon . Not good.” He brought a hand to his temples and paced. “Two beautiful bodies entwined should be magnifique, oui ?” He was talking to himself. I pulled away and crossed my hands over my chest to wait it out. Alec’s eyes came to mine. Aiden touched my shoulder, but, when he did, I flinched. Alec’s gaze caught it. He saw everything.

“Aiden, you may go.” He walked forward and handed him the robe.

“But what about the shoot? I need the money from this job,” he said worrying his bottom lip with his teeth.

“You will be paid. You’ve done well. My vision is specific. The first piece will be painted.” Aiden’s eyes lit up.

“Really?”

Alec gave him a small smile and clapped him on the shoulder. “Really. Now go. I must work now with my muse.”

Aiden headed to the bathroom to change. Alec handed me his personal robe, which made me smile wide. I pulled it on and sat cross-legged on the padding. He came and sat next to me.

“You did not like this shoot.” No shit Sherlock. I sat there quietly waiting for him to come to whatever conclusions he wanted to.

“I need this shot. So I have an idea.”

“Okay.” My voice was small and timid, worried that he was upset with my performance.

He slid a hand to my face and looked intently into my eyes. “I will be your muse for the shoot.”

Chapter 7

“You? My muse? How does that work?”

I could hear Aiden move through the other side of the loft, open the elevator and slam the gate shut. That’s when Alec stood and pulled off his long sleeved thermal shirt. His chest shone in the bright lights of the loft. Then he yanked on the wide brown leather belt. Once he’d unbuckled it, he unzipped his pants and shimmied them down. Again, commando. I licked my lips and gripped his hips then looked up his beautiful body.

“You will pose with me. I will use this.” He held up a cordless remote control. It was cylindrical with a red button on top. It reminded me of an action movie where the bad guy had a bomb strapped to his chest with a cord and a button. Alec pressed the button and the camera flashed. “See, I will do the poses with you. Only with me, it will be real love on canvas.”

Now this concept had definite possibilities. I grinned wickedly and lifted up both of my hands along his sides, leaned forward and placed a kiss on the crown of his cock. He cupped my cheek with one hand while I showed him my appreciation for this brilliant idea. Once I licked his entire length, I pulled back. “You didn’t have to do that you know.”

“Yes I did, ma jolie . You were not comfortable. One frown on your pretty face was too much. I knew the concept was hard to begin with, but seeing your face as he touched you, knowing that you were trying for me... non, ce n'était pas bon , not good. I should have known. You have committed to me for this time. That means you would not look to be in love with a stranger. Real love, the kind I want in my art must be authentique , real, and it must be given willingly.”

I moved forward and took him into my mouth, sucking hard, showing how much his words meant to me. He valued my comfort above all and understood that I wasn’t just a good-time girl. I was his completely for the month. We’d agreed upon it, and he’d taken that vow seriously, now more than ever before. Alec shifted and leaned back, his head tilting to the sky as I took him as far as I could down my throat. The camera clicked. Knowing he’d caught this private moment between us made me wetter, hotter for him. I wanted nothing more than to be taken, right here, right now.

He fucked my mouth for a time then abruptly pulled away. “Your mouth, it is too good. Alas, I need the image of us joined in the act of love.” I nodded while he walked a few steps away, picked up his jeans and pulled out a condom. I wanted to tell him I was on birth control and that technically he didn’t have to use one, but I refrained. Something about that didn’t feel right. He suited up his erection and prowled over to me. He positioned me on my side the same way he did with Aiden. Only this time, I got as close as possible, smashing my breasts against his firm chest and willingly touched him…everywhere.

“I see you are no longer camera shy.” His lips crooked into a smirk.

“Oh shut up and take your picture, Frenchie,” I said then put my mouth over his. I could hear the camera click every so often. His hands clung to my naked body as the lights flashed and blinked. At one point, he had the clicker in the same hand as my breast. I could feel the cold tip digging into my nipple adding a frisson of pleasure and pain against the aching peak.

“Now for the real love.” He opened my leg, wedged his hips between mine and entered me, inch by delicious inch. My head tipped back and my hips arched forward. “ Oui , chèrie , take my love,” he whispered and pushed his way inside. He gripped my hip and pulled hard, slamming his thick cock home, pressing on that high spot within and crushing my O-trigger in the process.

Gone.

Instant gratification cut deep when the orgasm ricocheted through my body as if it played ping-pong up my spine. I held him close, never able to get close enough, my body bowed almost painfully as I held on to the high. Lights flashed behind my closed eyes, only it wasn’t me, it was the camera. Capturing a most blissful moment in time.

Once he brought me down, I rolled him over and got on top. I stole the clicker from him. “Fair is fair,” I grinned. Instead of stealing back the control he put those artists’ hands over my breasts and played with my nipples, tugging and rubbing until they were white hot burning points of pure, raw, need. I leaned my head back sitting astride him. Then I lifted up and slammed down. His body tightened, and I clicked the camera. These may not be for his exhibit, but they were going to be hot as hell and to an artist, it’s the gift that keeps on giving long after it’s gone.

I rode my Frenchman so hard he was panting and growling in his pleasure. I waited until he started speaking in non-stop French before I’d allow him a reprieve. That’s when I knew he was closing in on the point of no return.

“Votre sexe est si chaud.”

“Je pourrais vous aimer toute la nuit.”

“Encore plus, bébé.” More, baby. I learned that one early on in our physical relationship.

Before I could take him there , he rolled me back over on my side. God, the man was a maniac in the sack. His stamina was unparalleled. His hips pounded into mine crushing my clit in the process. Before I knew it, I was back on the edge of heaven again. Both our bodies were slick with sweat. The set lamps only added to the heat.

“What did you say to me in French?” I asked before biting down on his lip and sucking it into mine.

“I said your sex is so hot and that I could love you all night. I think I will, ma jolie .” And that was all she wrote. He proceeded to pound into me. Words were no longer needed. The clicker was gone, somewhere near us, but I’d dropped it when my second orgasm spiked. Then my Frenchie pressed a hand in between our bodies and swirled a finger around the fiery knot between my thighs that throbbed for his attention. I clung to him as he played with me, fingers digging into his back, scratching down with the force of his thrusts. I wrapped my legs tightly around him and held on. He lifted up onto his forearms, pulled his dick almost completely out of me and rammed home. My teeth rattled and my toes curled as the orgasm tore through my body like a tornado did a house.

Violent.