It’s Sunday Snog time again!
This time it’s from Model Submissive, the second book in my Rack and Ruin series. In this part of the book, Izzy (the model) and Luke (the photographer) are getting creative during a clothing photo shoot, and they end up a little bit distracted…This is probably a little bit longer than an excerpt should be, but it loses context if I cut any of it short, so here we go! 😉
Once I was settled on my knees, I looked up at Luke through the bars and smiled. “Like that?”
Something about the way I’d done it seemed to have stunned him into momentary silence. After a second, he shook it off. “Perfect. Now, give me your hair.”
I blinked up at him, confused, and he reached a hand through the bars to grab a gentle fistful of my hair and tug it towards him, threading it through the bars.
I got it, then, and gathered the rest of my long, unruly locks, resting my cheek against one of the bars as Luke pulled it all through the gap. In the process, he managed to tangle it, and I rolled my eyes at him. “Amateur. Go and find my hairbrush. It should be on the bar.”
He left with a quick grin, and I combed out a few of the tangles with my fingers as I waited. When he returned with the brush, and a few fake flowers I vaguely remembered seeing during the Spring Fetish themed night the club had had a while back, I nodded approval. “Okay, now gimme. It’ll take me half the time it’d take you. What were you thinking?”
He handed over the brush and flowers, and while he directed me, I separated my hair into pigtails and braided each one into the bars on either side of my head. When I was done braiding, I placed flowers at intervals within the strange iron-and-hair effect that resulted. “How do I look?”
“I can’t think of the right word, but take that as a compliment.” Luke snapped a few shots as I fiddled with the flowers, and then directed me to look out through the bars.
There was a little slack in the braids, but not much. I rested my face against the bars and looked up at him through my eyelashes innocently, as if to ask, ‘How did I get into this situation?’
Luke took a few pictures, then laughed. “I doubt Steph can use any of these. Your hair kind of upstages the clothes.”
“You wanna stop, get back to business?” I asked him.
After a second’s hesitation, he shook his head, his dark eyes more serious than the situation called for. I yearned to step out of the cage, to lean in and capture those sensuous lips in a hungry, no-holds-barred kiss, but I was tied to the spot—tied by my own damn hair.
“Then don’t stop,” I told him softly, and he recovered his poise, taking photograph after photograph as I watched him intently.
Knowing that Steph would never see these photos, I held nothing back, giving free reign to the lust inside me. Willing him to sense how much I wanted him. Letting the confused innocence fade out. Inviting the temptress within me out to play.
After a couple of minutes of giving me quiet instructions, which I followed without hesitation, Luke lowered the camera. “You know, if a fire broke out I’d have to cut your hair off to free you so we could escape.”
I fluttered my eyelashes at him. “And to pay you back, I’d have to cut off something so much more painful than your hair.”
“Ouch.” Grinning, he snapped a couple more shots, and then crouched in front of me, his face only inches from mine through the bars. I could smell his masculine scent, and I breathed deeply, wishing I could bury my face against his neck and lose myself in his intoxicating presence.
“And if I decided I wanted to kiss you right now…”
Luke watched me carefully for signs of refusal, his dark brown eyes intent on my face. My pulse pounded through my cunt, and I had to close my own eyes, the moment too charged for me to bear.
He didn’t need to finish the sentence. We both knew I’d be powerless to move away as he brushed his gorgeous lips against mine. We both knew I wouldn’t want to.
His fingers brushed my cheek, and I sighed softly, tilting my head to give him better access. He cupped my face in his hand, murmuring my name—my real name, this time. “Isabelle…”
I opened my eyes, a little surprised, just as his lips brushed mine. The kiss was soft and lingering, his tongue flicking out to brush mine as I gasped, pressing my face to the bars, wanting more, more…
Luke drew away as soon as he sensed my overwhelming desire, and I gave a tiny cry of disappointment. He smiled—that slow, tempting smile that never failed to make my knees weak—and I reached out through the bars, needing to pull him closer. “Come here.”
He stood up instead, and I narrowed my eyes at him in frustration. “Oh, you—“
“Just checking,” he said lightly, and picked up his camera again.
I stuck it out for a couple of minutes, but my impatience got the better of me and I pulled the flowers from my hair, one by one. “Gonna help me unbraid this?”
Luke sat down opposite me and began to unweave my hair from the cage bars. When he got into an inevitable tangle, I took over, my fingers brushing his as I gazed at him.
“What’s on your mind?” he asked, choosing a different braid to undo with a slight smile.
“Sex.” The word was out of my mouth before I could stop myself, and his hands faltered at my directness, a startled laugh escaping his lips.
“Yeah, it is.” I was already in too deep—now that he’d kissed me, I was done wondering if he liked me as anything more than an art form to be captured.
“Interesting.” He worked the remaining hair loose from its iron trellis, then tugged on it, drawing my face up to the bars again. His lips were hot and hungry, his tongue heaven against mine, his hand reaching through the bars to touch me—
I sat back quickly, scooting out of his reach and making the cage rock around me. Outside, Luke watched me with helpless lust, his fingers curling around the bars instead of cupping my breast, the way he’d hoped.
“We have a job to do, remember? Steph’s counting on us.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay. Then here’s the way it’s gonna work. You do exactly as I say, when I say it. No touching, no kissing, unless I start it first. We get through these shots, Rapunzel, and then…”
I approached the bars again; pressed my body against them. “Then… what?”
“Then I get to taste what’s underneath that skirt.”