The Photograph

Her job had always been beauty, find it and make it sexy. From the time she was but a young girl, she had always been able to make a rock sparkle brighter than any diamond. Hers was a talent that not many had. She was Penelope Blanché, fashion photographer for a company headed by the Crimson Blade. She had majored is visual arts but her talent was no longer in demand in the world they lived in today. So when she had gotten the call from the assistant of the Blade Agency, she had taken it as it didn't compromise on her integrity too much.

His was the biggest name in the modeling world of that time, and she had been working for him for months now. With surprise and a trembling heart, she now walked up to the head office where her boss spent his time whenever he was not on a shoot, who's pictures would grace every major magazine label in the world. He was so beautiful. It was almost unreal. And the ethereal man had requested her personally to take the pictures for his next piece. She had been assuming that her time at the company had been passed in obscurity and anonymity.

What had she done to catch his eye?

This is what plagued her as she took the solitary trip to the intimidating office that housed the man who could make or break her career.

The low ding of the elevators as they opened echoed through her person, a song of fear and doubt and as her slippered feet touched the cold marble floor of the impressive upper levels she almost turned away to run.

Why me?

she kept thinking.

He is Crimson Blade.

The

Crimson Blade. He could get any famous photographer to come to him with a nod their way!

She was almost panicked but this could really make her career. She was a brave woman.

Squaring her shoulders, she took in a deep breath and continued on her way, knocking on the door briefly to announce her prompt arrival. A curt "Enter," came from inside and her heart quaked in her breast. She could feel her hands tremble. In fact it seemed her entire being echoed the tremors rushing through her hands. She felt shocked that she would allow this man to intimidate her so completely but, well it couldn't be helped. He was just that perfect. An angel among mortals.

Clamping the beautiful handle of a solid mahogany door with clammy hands, she stepped in quietly and immediately wished to disappear. There were a few people in the room. All of them crowding around no doubt Crimson Blade himself. But he was hidden from her. All she could see was a beautiful studio. The studio of her dreams. The floors were carpeted in the finest rugs. Everything was pristine white, shades of shadows from the lights and the darkening sky touched the walls as the spacious room seemed to stretch on for eons. Trying to stifle the gasp that threatened to escape she struggled to control her amazed joy at seeing her tools. So she stood there, looking like a child who had found Santa's factory of toys.

Rapt...

All sounds escaped her as she floated in a fantasy where she always worked in a studio as beautiful as this one, her head laid on the door as she accepted being ignored. It was not something she was unaccustomed too. Because though she was pretty, in the world she lived in she was nothing even remotely special and people tended to forget that she was around. She did not mind much though. It allowed her more room to observe and plan her shoots that way. So lost in her reverie, she had not realised that she had started to walk around, her hands gently stroking everything with loving fingers. This was the world she loved most. She could almost weep.

As the shadows continued to flicker over the walls, the staff worked on preparing the Great One for his shoot. No one had yet to acknowledge her presence. This would have made a lesser woman stamp her feet in anger and annoyance. It only made Penelope smile as her brilliant artistic mind came into work. She rummaged through everything and as her eyes caught a particular enticing shadow that danced over the mosaic crystallized window with its gothic design she felt a spark of creativity rush through her being.

A rush. It inspired her and pushed her. She was its slave. She knew exactly how to make the Great One look as great as he was. His fierce sensual beauty needed to be portrayed in its stark perfection. A demon of lust, inspiring carnal thoughts from just a simple look. She continued to rummage through shelves until she found them. Four candles. They were long and slender. Sure to last for hours while she prepared for what was to be a rigorous evening. For the Supermodel was known to be demanding

Rearranging the set as she wanted, she moved with a sinuous grace of one accustomed to her work. She hardly noticed that everyone within the room had stopped to view her actions with rapt attention. That such a small woman would work with such joy. It gleamed within her eyes with each object she touched and stroked. And before their eyes they saw magic. Not the kind in faerie tales but the real kind as a talented muse worked to bring to life her fantasy.

It was like a dance. A dance of pure joy. Interest sparked through cold crimson eyes that should never had been that frozen. They were eyes that begged for someone to set the fire back in them. Eyes that promised of a passion hidden deep within their bearer. With a glint, as light from the candle caught within their depths and were trapped forever, he gave a brief nod and immediately the room cleared. Barely paying any attention to the artists who exited the room he found that his attention was captured by an unawares sprite. It belonged to her now and he got up needing to watch the graceful limps flint over his office like she belonged there. He realised then that maybe he had created this office, the building, the world just for her.

Shaking his head at his foolishness, he made a slight sound within his throat, he sought to catch her attention. Muscles glistened as predatory moves took him silently to the shadows. He did not want her to notice that he was staring but he couldn't stop. She commanded his attention. But she hardly noticed him in turn and this infuriated him. He was not accustomed to this. Usually women fawned over him, though he found their attentions to him boring he wanted this one to look at him with adoration. And so with his silent grace he crept up to her. He was not really being sneaky, it was that her work so enthralled her that she was completely unaware of the world before her.

"Penelope..."

That one word brought her back to reality. Her heart slammed in surprise having being pulled out of her trancelike state as her shaky delicate hand rushed up to wrap lightly around her throat in surprise. She spun around so she could catch a glimpse of him. As her eyes met his in the shadows, her heart raced even more. He looked like a demon, a creature, wild, untamed. She couldn't help that tiny step of retreat and self-preservation before her nerves stilled around her backbone.

In a flowing move her body sank down slightly in a bow of respect as was their tradtion. "I'm sorry you startled me. I'm—" her words were halted as he stepped back. A barely audible gasp escaped her for she had stopped breathing in that moment. The shear beauty of the man took her breath away. Could he even be called a human, for no human could hold such power and beauty so confidently. She wanted to encase him in stone where his beauty would remain forever, a treasure.

Something wormed its way within her heart but she hardly noticed for she never even dared to think that someone like him would look at her as more than a commodity and so anything that could have been she would never give it room to grow and flourish as it needed.

Intelligent eyes travelled down his body, taking in the moonlight slivery wisps of hair bond n a tiny black ponytail, to cascade flowingly down a muscled back, flowing white silk shirt he wore that hide the power that seemed to ooze out of his pores. His long claws, which had been his fashion, seemed to glisten with deceptive calm. Her eyes trailed down the black casual pants he wore and slight colour tinged her cheeks as inappropriate thoughts entered her mind, but she ignored them for she was a professional and he would fire her without hesitation if she was not up to the job.

He patiently allowed her perusal of his body, fighting the growing heat of reaction that coiled low in his stomach as he imagined all kinds of lustful thoughts going through her mind as she looked at him through eyes which she probably didn't know half drifted down, half slit. Fighting a moan of illicit desire, he struggled to shut off the images that had them both writhing on a bed, seeking fulfillment. It had been so long that he had met a woman who had the grace of this one. After years of pampered women who only had to look pretty to make money, he had gotten tired of the meaningless simpering that came his way and to meet a woman who knew and loved her work was like the most potent aphrodisiac. He almost groaned as she spoke yet again.

"No. No. No. This just won't do. This look is not right. You need to strip. I know exactly what you should be wearing and that is most definitely not it."

Closing his eyes on a struggle for restraint and control, he ignored what she had said as a fiery stream of molten desire spread through his entire being. The results of such simple words astounded him. He felt shivers rush through his body to follow in their wake rising strings of goose bumps. As it travelled an agonizingly slow trail down his body, pooling within his groin, a swelling so intense and instantaneous, like nothing he had felt since the days of his youth assaulted him. He couldn't suppress that growl as he felt the tightening of his shaft. He could not strip before her. His control hanged by mere threads of hard earned discipline, which threatened to shatter at the merest sound of her voice. But it felt so good. He had not allowed himself to feel that kind of pleasure for such a long time that the unexpected arrival of it so suddenly almost brought him to his knees

Luckily for him, she interpreted his growl for disapproval. He almost smiled as he imagined what she would think had she known the reason for his growl. Yet those train of thoughts were halted, or rather they stalled has his entire body froze, for Penelope, not liking his declination of following her orders had taken up the task of disrobing him herself. As the first touch of her feather soft fingers grazed his body, molten hot sensations assaulted him. He was trapped and so he endured. The most pleasurable torture. The wide spread lashes fanned his face has his eyes drifted close. He could not stop the sensations if he wanted to and he did not want to. It was the most amazing feeling and he indulged himself, testing his limits, his restraints.

Not realising what effect she was having on her employer, Penelope felt rather proud that she had gotten her way. She felt that she had made an impression, which she had. It was just not the kind that she would be expecting. And so the shirt came off. And as each of the tiny ivory buttons slipped through the slits, her breath hitched. She tried to keep from touching him, but her fingers would accidentally trail down an expanse of taught muscled flesh and her a tiny soundless gasp would escape her parted moist lips. Her face flamed with embarrassment and something else she denied vehemently. He was her employer and she was not attracted to him. Yet as her hands touched the skin above the hem of his pants she felt her entire being shudder with a tremor. The tremors remained within her fingers as she struggled to open the stubborn buttons. She wanted to leave, run away, but she had started and she couldn't back out now

Clenching his teeth as she stroked his body to keep the sounds of pleasure locked up even though they threatened to spill from his lips, he stood rigid still before her, both anticipating and dreading each brush of her fingers... nails... As she descended he found his control slipping and he knew he should step back, but he wanted to test his control for just a little while longer... just a little longer...

He was unable to catch that sharp desire laden hiss that escaped his lips as her fingers stroked him so close to where he needed it. The thundering of his heart deafened him till it sounded like wild drums beat a call for desire within the room. He nearly perished on the spot, as her struggling fingers kept brushing over his need as she battled with the buttons of his pants. He would have gladly allowed her to continue had she known what those simply brief touches were doing to him. But he did not think she would be too happy to see the engorged arousal outlined through his tight boxers.

Veins almost popping in his neck, he swiftly stilled her hands, pressing them deeply into his arousal for a moment before he started to disrobe himself on his own. She almost looked like she was about to bend on her knees in grateful prayer. But she did not back down exactly. She seemed determined to be professional even though the red stain on her cheeks loudly proclaimed another story.

Relieved, she stepped behind him and tantalising fingers stroked through his hair coaxing the tight ponytail out. She pressed her body into his back as she used him for leverage, her face set in determination to win the battle with the elusive material.

He stilled in his movements, as all thoughts of ever losing his erection died the moment her soft yet firm breasts pressed against his back. He didn't dare move for losing that contact a second before it was necessary. His eyes drifted down to the tented material, which showed blatant proof of his desire. He was not ashamed of his arousal, but he worried that someone like her would be shocked. He had to calm down before he took off his boxers. He took in deep breaths to aid but each gulp was fragranced in her scent and it only elicited more images. There was nothing he could do about it.

"What do you want me to wear?" he asked, not turning to face her. She would soon be faced with his arousal and she did not need to see it any moment sooner than was necessary. She however had been too busy admiring the taut muscles of his butt. He was so beautifully shaped.

"Hh? What?" she mumbled guiltily. "Oh right," she blushed as she rushed to gather the costume. She could almost see him in it. So sensuous. "You have to remove the boxers though..." her voice trailed off as she took in the sight of him before her, muscles corded over the leanest body parts, a proud look on his face. There was not an ounce of fat on him. She gulped, as she could not stop her eyes from trailing down over a flat stomach. Her eyes bulged as she noticed his arousal. It was thick, stretching the material of his undergarment. Taking a much-needed breath, she then swallowed to help a throat that had suddenly gone dry

Clearing her throat, "uhmm... Her-Here. Put this on." She walked to him and handed the clothing to him. As his fingers reached for it though it seemed that hers had lost their consistency as the soft material slipped thought nerveless fingers. "I'm sorry," she gasped in embarrassment as she quickly bent to pick them up. She came face to face with

it

. Her heart sputtered, freezing her where she was. She felt the ever-present heat of her face become even more prominent. Stumbling upright she mumbled an apology. It trailed away as she noticed the tormented look that cut over his harsh sensual face.

"I am sorry little one. I cannot control it. I want you." He said the words so simply. Yet the wealth of desire that coated them had heat pooling dangerously low in her stomach. She stifled the shivers that those words brought to her, yet all she wanted to do was purr. "Let's get this done Penelope. I do not know how long I can stand here without claiming you."

"O-ok-ay," she said and practically stuffed the clothing into his chest as she quickly turned around to give him the privacy he needed to get dressed. They both knew that it was impossible for there to be anything between them and so they would pretend that this was just a slight mistake, temporary insanity. She dimmed the lights slightly and lit the candles so that their flickering lights would catch the window perfectly.

"I'm ready," his deep masculine voice shimmered over her like fine strong liquor. She turned to him, drunk on the addictive tones that struck her over-sensitive being. He was... magnificent. The costume wasn't much. Just a vivid yellow belt, which doubled as, a loin cloth. Exposing his shapely thighs while leaving nothing to the imagination. There was no shirt to it, just a thick fur draped over his right shoulder and thigh. His hair flowing freely over his shoulders and chest, he was the physical entombment of desire.

As he walked his erection tented the material. He had moved to the window as she had indicated and she could see the agonized look on his face. It was like he was in the utter throes of pleasure while being tortured within the fires of deepest Hell. The tented material completely ruined the image. Standing behind her camera she could

see

that he was aroused completely and that just would not do.

"I-s there any-anyway you can... maybe..." she trailed off. His jaw clenched the word, "No," came out almost harsh.

"I can't stop thinking of—" his words were captured by a low moan as smooth as silk as his eyes drifted close and his entire body shuddered. "I want you so much... Forget I said that." He took a deep shuddering breath as he tried to calm down but it was just not happening. Knowing that she was looking only seemed to intensify what he was feeling.

She felt joy rise in her chest as his words shimmered through her being. No one had ever expressed desire for her in such an intense tone. It made her feel... sensitive all over like she was going up in flames, tiny ones that licked over her skin, each stoking the other until they smouldered, building wanton images in her mind. While she waited for his calm, which never came, images of her own played in her head and so gone was she that she found a part of her, a brave part that wanted to tempt and dare. She had always been such a

good girl

all her life. Here was her chance to do something daring and exciting.

Taking a deep breath for courage, she said, "Well this just won't do. I guess I will just have to take things into my own hands," She tried to smile bravely but it came out trembly, needy. And that look had his enormous body shuddering. His eyes locked onto her as she came towards him. A beautiful rose in her cheeks. He didn't dare assume he had guess at her intensions. It would be too great that his fantasy would come true.

"What are you doing?" he asked startled as she sank to her knees so elegantly before him. The next sounds out of his mouth were those of muffled groans as inexperienced fingers lightly pushed the belt to a side, taking him tentatively within the softest palm. He nearly disgraced himself by falling to the floor on weak knees. Saved by the ledge of the window, he threw his head back, biting his lips as her fingers slowly circled his shaft, trailing experimentally over the length. The sensations were intense. His already engorged erection swelled till the veins throbbed visibly. He knew that he would be done in no time. He wanted her to go faster, but he feared pushing her, scaring her.

Confidence growing, she started to stroke him firmly, loving the sounds that escape his lips. Her heart thundered. She had never done anything like this before but she truly enjoyed bringing that look to his face, making him make those sounds. Her fingers travelled over the blunt tip of his arousal and a strangled gasp escaped his lips causing her to moan out at the pleasure it brought her. She kept doing it, loving how this powerful man shuddered so openly under her ministrations. Her free hand moved to stroke his underside.