He looked at her again, camera still in hand. “Krista…”
She stilled slightly. “Yeah?”
He nodded toward the fabric. “May I?”
Her breath hitched as she followed his gaze. Then, slowly, she reached for the scrap of fabric and handed it to him.
Joe cupped her face first, kissed her slow, reverent, deep, before gently sliding the blindfold over her eyes and knotting it behind her head, careful not to catch her hair.
Her lashes fluttered against the fabric. Her hands dropped to his shoulders, her body still wrapped around him, but now completely at his mercy.
He held her there for a beat, just feeling the weight of her, the trust, the tension curling tighter between them.
Her lips parted, breath stuttering. Arms above her head, breath shaky but open, skin flushed in the soft light.
Joe pulled out and reached for the camera again. Framed her there—bare, blindfolded, the soft spread of her legs. Her chest rising and falling like she’d just run a race.
It wasn’t just erotic, it was artistic. A chance to capture her this way, the open and trusting nature that came naturally between them. No matter what happened between them, he would never forget this moment.
It had been exactly one week since he’d met this woman, and she’d completely changed his life.
Click.
Her lips twitched a little at the sound.
“Still with me?” he asked.
“Yes,” she whispered. “God, yes.”
Joe set the camera aside and knelt beside her, brushing his fingers across her chest, over the soft swell of one breast. Her lips parted. She arched into his touch, her body seemingly hypersensitive now that she couldn’t see.
He leaned in, lips replacing fingers. He kissed a line from her collarbone to the center of her ribs, her skin hot beneath his tongue.
Then lower.
He kissed the inside of her knee, her hip, the place where her breath stuttered.
Krista let out a strangled sound.
His tongue slid through wet heat, kissing her swollen lips. Her thighs shook.
“Joe— Oh, God?—”
He worked her slowly, tongue, lips, the occasional scrape of teeth—holding her hips still when they threatened to buck off the bed. He alternated pressure and pace, learning her responses, memorizing every gasp and twitch.
Her fingers fisted the sheets. Her hips trembled. Her voice broke.
When she came, it was wild and breathtaking. She arched off the bed, her hands gripping his shoulders, legs quivering. Joe didn’t stop until she was undone, calling his name like a prayer.
He kissed his way back up her body, her skin still trembling under his mouth, until he hovered over her again.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered, and she nodded, blindfolded, her mouth searching for his.
He kissed her, slow and deep, then caught her wrists and gently pinned them above her head. She was still recovering, but she pulled him in with her legs, greedy for more.
And then he slid inside her in one smooth motion.
She arched with a cry, her head thrown back, blindfold still in place, her whole body stretching to take him.
