My euphoric state lasted for another mind-melting twenty-four hours.
Another day filled with sex, conversation, good food cooked together and more sex. We barely slept for more than a couple of hours.
No surface within the cabin was left un-christened by Graciela’s sizzling demands. More than her blinding, more frequent smiles and the intelligence that shone from her eyes when we discussed the diverse topics that captivated us both, it was the siren-like fire in her eyes just before she ordered me to fulfil a desire that stoked a craving in my soul I was beginning to suspect would never be equalled once this thing was over. It was the reason a knot of dread had taken up residence in my stomach at the thought of it ending.
The force of the storm had lessened, snow falling with less frequency in the last half-day. I’d taken the coward’s way out and avoided checking the weather forecast.
We couldn’t stay here for ever, but I could sure as hell enjoy whatever hours we had left. Her favourite setting for fucking was in front of the fire, but, for the sake of extra comfort, we’d relocated to the bed last night and promptly fallen asleep.
Our limbs were tangled together, her head on my shoulder as she breathed, deep and steady. I was turning into one of those corny idiots who even enjoyed the way his woman slept, unable to help my smile as I stared down at her.
Even in slumber, Graciela Mortimer remained a Dominant. One leg rested over both of mine, her arm firmly anchoring my middle. If I weren’t miles stronger than her, I’d remain pinned in place until she decided to let me go.
And fucking hell, I liked her wanting to keep me close even in sleep. I glanced at the window, willing the snow to start falling again.
But after an hour of lazing about in bed, when my prayers weren’t answered, I eased away from her. Restlessness that usually drove me outside for a walk in the woods or exercising the dogs, regardless of the time of year, sent me downstairs to my office.
Sitting at my desk with my camera, I scrolled through the pictures I’d taken for Graciela.
The perfectionist in me was pleased to see there were several exceptional ones she could use for her magazine, with more shots on autofocus that I could use to make an interactive video for the digital version of her magazine if she wanted. I was confident I had everything she needed.
But my reason for coming to my office had nothing to do with work right now. I scrolled until I reached the one I wanted. Connecting the camera to my laptop, I sent the image to print, my breath stalled as the machine spat out a single portrait, glossy photo. On a wild impulse I printed off another five in various exposures to make an even half-dozen.
I placed them up at vantage points in my office, playing with the lighting and scrutinising each one critically from a different angle.
As I experimented, an idea began to form in my head, excitement building in my chest.
Graciela Mortimer was without doubt the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Her unique beauty, the light she tried to hide needed to be stoked. Kept alive.
I sat down at my desk, fingers flying over the keyboard as I activated my emails. As suspected, there were over two dozen emails from my office and a handful from my agent. I ignored them all, typing up an email of my own. The Internet was patchy and probably wouldn’t send for a good few hours, but I didn’t care. It would take a few emails to get this project under way, but I set the ball rolling, smiled as I slammed the laptop shut. My agent would be thrilled. She’d been pushing me in the direction of holding another exclusive show, since my first and only show had become a runaway hit.
That show, purely based on a series of photos I’d taken, had snowballed into a wild, insane juggernaut, with awards, book deals and insane amounts of money thrown my way to add to the small fortune I already had in the bank, guaranteeing I wouldn’t have to work another day in my life if I didn’t want to. It’d been more than a little disconcerting, truth be told. The only reason the furore had eventually died down several months later was because I’d taken an assignment to Papua New Guinea, one I knew would last three months. My absence had done the trick of granting me a modicum of privacy and normality.
The memory sobered me.
Was that what Graciela went through on a daily basis? As a child born into a powerful and influential family, she’d been the cynosure of rabid, relentless interest probably before she could walk. My interaction with social media was selective, getting involved only where it pertained to my work, but technology made blaring headlines impossible to ignore. I knew the kind of hellish media attention she and her family garnered, the kind of invasion of privacy that dogged her every waking hour.
She’d lived with it all her life, so was it any wonder she was wary and instantly suspicious of anyone wielding a camera?
Would she think of my burgeoning idea in those terms?
No. This was different. It would be special. A celebration rather than an invasion. Hopefully a prelude to...something else.
I drew back from putting a label on it, though the curious churning in my gut wanted to delve headlong into dissecting just what it was I felt for her.
The last three days had been illuminating. I’d caught more frequent glimpses of the woman beneath the powerful surname. Discovered her previous relationships had been just as ultimately unsatisfying as mine. That she hadn’t taken a submissive in a while. Selfishly, that’d pleased me. I wasn’t magnanimous enough to be the kind of guy who made accommodation for other prospects when it came
