Page 12 of The Professor
“You know the project I was talking to you about?” he says, and I nod. Since we’ve become committed to each other, he’s told me more about the exhibition, and I’ve seen a little, some teasers. The artist’s work is all about the body and sensuality, and it looks truly stunning. Oliver’s submission will have to be amazing but I have no doubt that it will be, once he finally figures out what exactly he’s going to create.
“With the pieces you haven’t started yet?” I confirm, nodding. “Maybe Scotland’s scenery will inspire you.”
He steps closer to me, and the air between us practically crackles with electricity. I inhale sharply, heat beginning to spiral between my legs. “The thing is, Emma,” he says lowly, “I found inspiration for my submission the second I saw you in that coffee shop. It’s all I’ve thought about since.”
“Oh,” I breathe, in awe. Hearing thatI’veinspired him for this…my head spins. “Really?”
“Really,” he echoes, reaching forward to tip my chin back so I meet his dark, stormy gaze. “You’re my muse, pretty girl.”
“Oliver…” I whimper, leaning into him. A thought crosses my mind, and I frown. “But, how will that work?”
“I won’t use any model but you,” he says firmly, shaking his head. I open my mouth to ask more questions, but he’s alreadyway ahead of me. “The vision is entirely ofyou, gorgeous. But I know I can’t be open about that in the work, not while you’re still a student. So we won’t show your face. I’ve already thought of posing and lighting and editing…if you’ll do me the honour of being my subject, that is.”
I don’t need even a second to consider it. My answer would never be anything except, “Yes.” I say it in a rush, making Oliver grin.
“We’ll bring our cameras today, then, all the kit” he says, stepping away from me to force us to actually leave instead of ending up back in bed. The thought of him photographing me, using me as his muse, turns me on so much that I have no idea how I’ll survive it without touching him. That only makes it more exciting, the tension of it all making me feel alive with anticipation.
The walkto the waterfall doesn’t take more than an hour, through wild footpaths and a copse of thick trees that hide the spot from view.
“Are you sure this is the right way?” Oliver asks as he holds a branch out of the way so he can follow me. “There’s no path.”
I laugh, shaking my head at him. “All the best places are found off the beaten path, ya know” I say, holding my arms out to gesture to the lush greenery around us. “But yes, I’m sure. You’re just too used to the city,Professor.” Oliver’s eyes narrow on me playfully. “I’m buying hiking boots before we venture up any of those hills,” he says, grimacing at the sneakers on his feet.
The sound of water rushing meets our ears and I jog forward, grinning widely as we round a corner to one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever seen. Even more beautiful now than I remember.
“Isn’t is stunning?” I say, with that beautiful feeling of beinghomewashing over me as I take in the waterfall and plants and stream.
“Breath taking,” Oliver agrees, but when I turn to look at him, I find him staring at me, not the scenery. “And you were right, this is the perfect place to shoot.”
We take a few minutes to explore, finding good places to take photos and taking test pictures. I snap some sneaky shots of Oliver setting up his equipment, then ones where he notices me and starts stalking towards me with intent gleaming in his eyes and his arms stretched out wide to claim me.
I squeal as he plucks the camera from my hand and sets it down on a blanket with our bags and water bottles. Surprisingly, the day has turned out warm, and my jumper is bundled up with the rest of our stuff.
The sun shines, making the water sparkle. Despite the heat, goosebumps appear on my arms as Oliver reaches for me, his hand tangling in my hair as he tilts my head back and kisses me. Feeling like I’m under his spell I realize just how utterly in love with this man I am. He slips his hand under my shirt and pulls it up over my head. I’m dizzy, breathless and even more turned on.
Then he kneels down, unlaces my boots and helps me step out of them, taking my socks off so I’m barefoot on the cool mossy bank. His hands trail over my skin with reverence. He pullsdown my leggings and underwear, in one perfect rip, then slips my bra off, leaving me naked in the cool breeze.
“Stripped and gorgeous,” Oliver whispers, kissing my shoulder softly. “Come on, little muse.”
I shiver, not because I’m cold, but because Oliver’s words and the secret beauty of this place wrap around me in an intoxicating embrace. He takes my hand, leading me to the edge of the pool of water. It’s cold when I step in, but I welcome the sensation of it lapping at my skin.
“Lie back against the bank,” he instructs softly, helping me pose in the way he wants. I tilt my head back and cover my face with my arm. I hear his instructions but struggle to remain calm knowing that these photos will be on show to all. “That’s it, perfect. Arch your back, turn slightly, raise a knee and spread your legs a little. Beautiful!”
I lap up the praise, responding as he shoots. He juggles between stills and video of me in the water, on the bank, standing under the waterfall with just my leg, side and breast visible through the falling curtain of water, making me feel like an otherworldly being stepping through a portal. Mini rainbows forming around me and disappearing as quickly as they appear.
All the while, he whispers about how stunning I look, how good the shots are turning out, and how much he loves me.
I’m sitting with my feet in the water when he crouches beside me and lets his hand run up my leg. He wraps his palm around my thigh and presses it to the side, opening my legs for him. I moan softly, eyes widening as he cups me between my legs. I hear the snap of his camera, shooting close ups of his hand pressed overmy pussy. Adrenaline rushes through me. His hand squishes on my wetness.
“These ones are just for us,” he murmurs, his finger trailing through my wetness and effortlessly penetrating my slippery entrance.
I relax, pleasure spiralling through me as he presses two fingers inside me. I brace myself on the rock, head falling back as he plays with me, the snap of the shutter sending shivers over me. Exciting me more than I imagined.
“Look how beautiful you are,” he says, kneeling between my thighs as his thumb finds my clit. He turns the camera so I can see the photos, showing me, myself. Flushed. Breathing slowly. Lips parted. My eyes fixed on his. Water glistening off my skin, my thigh dimpled slightly beneath Oliver’s grip. The next photo shows a close up of his hand on me, sensual and explicit. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
I reach a shaking hand for his camera, and he lets me take it, curiosity in his face. He pumps his fingers faster. His thumb strums rhythmically. My orgasm approaches rapidly as I watch through the lens, taking photos of him looking lovingly up at me with dilated pupils and a dominant expression with his hand between my legs, working steadily, bringing me to climax amongst birds, soft sun, cool spring water and the constant gentle ambient splash of the waterfall.
“My turn,” I whisper after several minutes of quiet recovery. I help him out of his clothes and throw them away anywhere, too out of my mind with lust to care.
