The Photographer’s Private Shoot - Chapter 6: Chapter 6
You are reading The Photographer’s Private Shoot, Chapter 6: Chapter 6. Read more chapters of The Photographer’s Private Shoot.
A hot wave of irrational fury crashed over me out of nowhere.
The sight of him grinning and jogging toward me only stoked the fire.
Before I realized it, my face had gone icy.
He called my name softly, but I deliberately ignored him.
Just as I turned to walk away, his fingers closed around my wrist.
"Sophia, who pissed you off?"
I shot him a death glare.
Then, in one swift motion, he swept me off my feet—literally—cradling me against his chest as he marched us back into the studio.
Even when we reached the couch, he refused to release me, keeping me pinned in his lap.
His chin settled heavily atop my head.
"Sophia, it's not what you think. That model's photographer wasn't me—it was someone else. She just got turned around, and I pointed her in the right direction."
Some of the tension in my shoulders eased.
Adrian's voice brightened. "Sophia… do you like me too?"
My face went nuclear.
"From the second I saw you, I knew you were mine."
His words—so shameless, so sure—left me stunned.
Before I could react, Adrian crushed his lips to mine in a searing kiss.
He didn't let up until I was gasping, then trailed his fingers soothingly down my chest.
His nose brushed my neck.
A dizzy, honeyed warmth pooled low in my stomach.
Adrian held me like that for ages, murmuring nonsense until my breathing steadied.
Then, with one last squeeze, he guided me into the day's shoot.
For once, Adrian behaved—no teasing, no mischief—and we wrapped up without incident.
But as I grabbed my bag to leave, his arm barred my path.
"Sophia, my private session isn't finished yet."
I frowned—until his lips grazed my ear, his whisper sending a jolt straight through me.
My cheeks burned.
This man… he actually expected me to…
The hunger in his gaze left no room for refusal. I nodded weakly.
I slipped out of my outfit and into the cheongsam.
The second the zipper hit the top, Adrian yanked me against him.
His mouth was desperate, his hands everywhere at once.
Emboldened, I tangled my fingers in his hair.
He groaned, palms skating over the silk, his breath scorching my skin.
Heat prickled under my ribs, desire coiling tighter with every touch.
Suddenly, Adrian lifted me, depositing me onto the couch—only to flip me facedown across his thighs in one smooth motion.
The sight of him grinning and jogging toward me only stoked the fire.
Before I realized it, my face had gone icy.
He called my name softly, but I deliberately ignored him.
Just as I turned to walk away, his fingers closed around my wrist.
"Sophia, who pissed you off?"
I shot him a death glare.
Then, in one swift motion, he swept me off my feet—literally—cradling me against his chest as he marched us back into the studio.
Even when we reached the couch, he refused to release me, keeping me pinned in his lap.
His chin settled heavily atop my head.
"Sophia, it's not what you think. That model's photographer wasn't me—it was someone else. She just got turned around, and I pointed her in the right direction."
Some of the tension in my shoulders eased.
Adrian's voice brightened. "Sophia… do you like me too?"
My face went nuclear.
"From the second I saw you, I knew you were mine."
His words—so shameless, so sure—left me stunned.
Before I could react, Adrian crushed his lips to mine in a searing kiss.
He didn't let up until I was gasping, then trailed his fingers soothingly down my chest.
His nose brushed my neck.
A dizzy, honeyed warmth pooled low in my stomach.
Adrian held me like that for ages, murmuring nonsense until my breathing steadied.
Then, with one last squeeze, he guided me into the day's shoot.
For once, Adrian behaved—no teasing, no mischief—and we wrapped up without incident.
But as I grabbed my bag to leave, his arm barred my path.
"Sophia, my private session isn't finished yet."
I frowned—until his lips grazed my ear, his whisper sending a jolt straight through me.
My cheeks burned.
This man… he actually expected me to…
The hunger in his gaze left no room for refusal. I nodded weakly.
I slipped out of my outfit and into the cheongsam.
The second the zipper hit the top, Adrian yanked me against him.
His mouth was desperate, his hands everywhere at once.
Emboldened, I tangled my fingers in his hair.
He groaned, palms skating over the silk, his breath scorching my skin.
Heat prickled under my ribs, desire coiling tighter with every touch.
Suddenly, Adrian lifted me, depositing me onto the couch—only to flip me facedown across his thighs in one smooth motion.
End of The Photographer’s Private Shoot Chapter 6. Continue reading Chapter 7 or return to The Photographer’s Private Shoot book page.