I shook my head slowly, “I’m not going anywhere. It’s everything I can do to keep from begging you to touch me. If you blew on me, I swear I’d lose it.” My breath hitched. Jack’s hands moved under the skirt, reaching around to my bare ass, and pulled me against him. The bulge in his pants felt so hard. I wanted to feel him inside me.
“Stop talking, Miss Tyndale. Not a word for the rest of the shoot.” His hands squeezed me hard, before releasing me. He looked down, smiling softly to himself, as I nodded. Silence. I could be silent, right?
Jack turned his back and lifted the jewels out of the case. It was a layered pearl necklace – each pearl perfectly round and perfectly black. I eyed the jewelry. Jack brushed my hair aside, lifting the necklace to my throat. It fastened tightly, with multiple rows of pearls hanging down. Each row dipped further and further, finally dipping down between my breasts. The rows were tightly nuzzled, showing little flesh between the perfect pearls.
“This set was made by Tiffany’s—special request. I had a vision of someone wearing it several years ago,” he glanced to the side as he touched the pearls, making me gasp. “A dream, I guess. A beautiful redhead, the girl that haunts me was sitting at my feet draped in black pearls, half naked.” I started to open my mouth to say something, but he pressed his fingers to my lips. “I swear to God, Abby, if you say another thing I’ll tease you for the next two days and not let you come once.” My shoulders stiffened. That sounded wonderful and horrible at the same time.
He grinned. “Come here,” I stepped toward him. He slipped his hand between my legs, pushing them up, feeling how wet I was. Withdrawing his hand, he locked his eyes with mine. Putting each finger in his mouth, one at a time, he licked me off his fingers. My body was already in overdrive. His fingers touching me made me feel more, want more, but watching him do that—I couldn’t hide how much I liked it. Before I could gasp or anything else, he reached for more jewelry. Another rope of pearls was draped around my waist, and twisting waterfall earrings of a million tiny pearls and diamonds sparkled in my ears. He grazed my breasts, putting them on me, but I remained still and silent, proud of myself. The last piece he pulled from the box was a triple row of tiny pearls strung across a silver chain. I looked at him, wondering where that would go. I was already covered head to toe in pearls.
Jack held the two ends up, showing me a tiny hook. “These are breast jewelry, Abby. They dangle from your nipples.” My jaw dropped slightly. I didn’t see how they attached. Jack saw the question in my eyes. He grabbed me by the waist as I started to step away, stopping me, the rows of pearls sliding beneath his palms. “This is the last piece. The hook is padded with plastic. It slides over your nipples, and clamps on. It’ll feel like me pinching you. It’ll hurt a little, but in a good way.”
I froze, watching his hands move toward me. Part of me was ecstatic, the other part hesitant, but Jack’s hands were on me, pulling my tender flesh softly, teasing me firmer between his fingers melting any remaining reluctance. I gasped, unable to contain myself. At the same time the rush of air came out of my lungs, he fastened one side onto my breast. It pinched tightly, pulling me gently. Jack’s hand started working the other side. Within moments, both hooks were pinched over my sensitive breasts, pulling the nipples with the weight of the chains and pearls.
Jack watched me, darkness glinting in his eyes, hungry. He moved across the room, pulling down a black backdrop from a roll of canvases on one side of the studio. His voice made warmth pool between my legs. “Come.” He pointed to the backdrop.
As I crossed the room, he closed the window shades, sealing out the light. My ankles protested with each step I took in the heels. The beads shook while I walked, the breast jewelry making me moan, shooting hot sparks through all the right places. Jack’s eyes watched me move through the darkness, his hands folded over his chest. He didn’t offer to help, he just gazed, unblinking—his blue eyes dark as sapphires, hot as coals.
I stopped in front of him, standing on the canvas, nearly climaxing from my short walk. Reaching for the nipple chain, he tugged lightly, and breathed, “Not yet, preacher-girl.” I gasped, a rush of air ripping from my throat. The sensations that flooded my body when he pulled the chain and made me tremble.
Jack smiled, enjoying every moment of my exotic agony. “If you’re a very good girl, if you do everything I ask, I’ll make sure you feel completely satisfied at the end of the shoot.” My mind felt so drugged with lust that I barely caught what he said. The moment after it registered, I glanced at him. He was holding his camera up. “Deal?” I nodded. Hell yes. I would have done anything at that point. Reason was forced out, and only desire for Jack remained.
The poses were sexy at first, mainly because of my outfit—if you could call it that—which I wasn’t sure I could. Being draped in pearls, diamonds, and silver with a skirt that didn’t cover anything wasn’t the kind of wardrobe I would have called an outfit. But Jack’s dark gaze, the want in his eyes as he posed me, as he shot me, made me feel like the sexiest woman he’d ever seen. The first poses I stood with my ankles apart, showing the long lines of my naked legs, facing the camera, hands over my head showcasing the jewelry adorning my body like I was Cinderella going to the exhibitionist’s ball. The shutter snapped again and again. Jack repositioned the poses, moved the lighting. They flashed every time he shot, making me feel more glamorous.
I tried to squeeze my thighs together to help ease the lust that was building beyond control within me. Gravity was pulling on the chains on my breasts, so that even when I didn’t move, the sensations didn’t stop. Jack’s face was hidden behind his camera, concealing his thoughts. Finally, when my knees were pressed so tightly together that my legs were shaking, he said, “Sit, legs apart, arms in front of you like this,” he held out his hands, one wrist touching the other. Slowly, I sank to the floor, closing my eyes, feeling the exquisite sensation tugging on me. My legs were together off to the side. When I pulled them apart, I went to copy the pose of his arms, but Jack stopped me. Walking over to me, he kept my legs curled to the side, but separated my ankles. “Like that,” he said when he was done, “Now reach for me Abby.” I lifted my arms toward his face, but he smiled, saying, “Reach for me, Abby. Like you want me, like you want to taste me.” My breath caught. My breasts were swollen, wanting his touch, sensitive. When he said those words I froze, staring at his dark jeans, wondering what it would be like. My private parts tingled thinking about it. Jack’s voice was firm, “Reach for me, Abby. Reach for me before I tug that chain and make you cry out.”
Swallowing hard, I reached for him. He stood close enough that my hands slid over his jeans, feeling the hard length hidden, contained under the fabric. Groaning, he said, “Good. Stay.” And stepped away. I felt like I was intoxicated with Jack, and yet I still wanted more. I remained still, feeling the pull on my breasts as the sting built in my arms. He moved the lights, repositioned the back of the skirt and shot. The shutter clicked, snapping shut closer and closer to the end of the shoot.
“One more pose.” I looked at him with desperation in my eyes. I wanted him so badly. The soreness I’d felt earlier was gone and nothing but my word was keeping me from attacking Jack, peeling off his clothes, and climbing on top of him.
Jack saw the passion in my eyes, as the lusty thoughts I didn’t bother to conceal played across my face. He smiled, saying, “Kneel. Knees apart.” I scooted in front of him, getting up on my knees, spreading my thighs. The cold air met my wet warmth and made me shiver.
Jack watched me, his lips full and open. He pressed his eyes closed, snapping himself out of the seductive trance we both fell into and moved behind me. He fanned the crinoline skirt so that it billowed from my waist, pooling behind me like a sea of ink. He leaned over, standing in front of me, meeting my gaze. “Last set, okay? As soon as I have it, you’re going to come fast and hard—and not make a sound.” His lips twisted into a smile. I couldn’t take my eyes off of them as he pulled away from my face.
“Hands over your head, Tyndale.” I draped both hands on top of my head, thinking that was what he wanted, but it wasn’t. “Almost done. Now, take one hand and stretch, reach as high as you can. Thrust your chest toward the light, and close your eyes.”
I closed my eyes, and did as he said. Stretching as far as I could with one hand, I reached over my head. It made my body curve and forced my breasts toward him, the silver chain swaying between them as I bent my spine back. My long hair tickled my bare back. The shutter snapped several times, moving around me. I didn’t move. I could hear Jack breathing. My legs were trembling, wanting him, needing him to sate the lust that was beyond agony. Every inch of my skin burned, longing to be touched.
Without a word, Jack was behind me, on his knees whispering in my ear, “Come for me Abby.” One hand moved between my legs, sliding in the damp heat. The other reached around and yanked gently on the chain strung across my breasts. The intense feelings spread through me fast. The shutter clicked once, then twice. Jack rigged the camera to keep shooting. I didn’t know where it was, but the thought of Jack having pictures of me coming in his arms pushed me over the edge.
I screamed his name, “Jack,” as I thrust against his hand, finding my release in his arms. Sinking back into him, I laid there, my back to his front for a moment, breathing heavily.
His hands slid around my middle, under the rows of pearls, feeling my soft flesh beneath his hands. “That was so sexy, but we’re not done yet.” He turned me around, his fingers squeezing my tender nipples, “We need to take these off.” As he squeezed, he loosened the clamp. I closed my eyes and soon felt his lips coaxing, sucking me hard. I gasped. It almost felt like he nipped me. Jack continued to massage the hard flesh with his tongue, becoming gentler and gentler until he lifted his head and said, “Now for the other.” He did the same thing, repeating every step, making me a hot mess, laying in his arms, arching my back, begging for more.