~Camila~
"𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏'𝒕 𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒂, 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒓 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕"
Camila was adored by those in her presence due to her gentle nature and joyful demeanor.
Her inner beauty and external charm captivates the hearts and...
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Camila's point of view
My eyes darted back and forth, frantically scanning the racks of clothes. Each outfit was beautiful, but none felt right. It wasn't about finding something stunning, it was about finding the most decent.
I finally gave up, settling on a pair of burgundy silk lingerie and a matching robe. Makeup was a no-go for today, just a swipe of gloss to make my lips pop.
I arrived at the same studio spot, only to find a woman instead of Luciano. Her red hair was piled into a messy bun, escaped strands framing freckled cheeks.
A welcoming smile bloomed on her face as she saw me.
"Hi," she waved. I waved back, my eyes searching for Luciano.
"Sir Luciano went to get something, he'll be back." She explained, sensing my confusion. I thanked her and sat on the couch, waiting.
The door flew open and Luciano walked in, a set of keys in hand.
My mouth dropped open as I took in the sight of him.
He was clad only in a pair of designer boxers, his thick V-line disappearing behind the waistband, leaving my imagination to run wild. His gaze wasn't on me, but the smirk on his face told me he knew I was staring.
My thighs clenched, and I forced myself to look away, struggling to breathe normally.
He walked to the wardrobe and threw it open. Just as I imagined, it was filled with those dangerous, and kinky tools. He pulled out a silver cuff and walked towards me.
Suddenly, the plain carpet became fascinating; I couldn't bear to meet his gaze. He placed his index finger under my jaw and tilted my head up, forcing me to look at him. His eyes, as always, held me captive.
"It's time for our shoot together, Camila," his voice was an octave lower than usual. Was he doing this intentionally, to kill me?
He took my hand in his and led me to the bed. He untied the robe, slowly letting it fall off my shoulder, revealing my body.
His dark gray eyes roamed shamelessly, lingering particularly on my heaving breasts. I hadn't been touched yet, but his gaze was enough to set my core on fire.
"Your first pose, sir," the photographer called.
How could she remain so normal after seeing a man like this? Maybe she wasn't into men, because if I were in her shoes, the camera would already be in pieces.
Or...or, she's a normal woman who doesn't swoon shamelessly? My subconscious gnawed at me.
He cuffed my hand to the headboard and made me kneel on the bed.
He came behind me, wrapping his large arms around my waist, his fingers resting on my waistline, his head buried in my neck.
I took a sharp breath, digging my nails into his forearm. My head fell onto his shoulder, and I shut my eyes, biting my lip.
