30 Second Exposure (Editing)

I wound the hemp rope around my palms and under my thumbs, gripped tight. It slid smoothly across his chest as I stood behind him, enjoying the view of him knelt between my legs. The muscles of his shoulders were tight and tense, a light sweat clinging to the strands of hair along the nape of his neck.

"Relax," I said in a soothing tone as I slowly, firmly, drew the ropes toward me.

Beck groaned softly as his back arched involuntarily. His head tipped back against my stomach and he looked up at me with dark, needful eyes. I wanted to tell him again to relax, to breathe steady and slow against the bindings. Instead I watched the soft shake of his parted, pinked lips.

And I wanted to kiss him.

The realization was harsh. The blinding snap of my own camera flash. The loud whir of recharge adding static to my brain.

"What?" he managed shakily, the words formed beneath my focus.

I thought of how soft they would be. I thought of his warm body under my touch. I thought of how much I enjoyed every picture I had taken, and every picture I hoped to take. I thought of a kiss, here, a first. Upside down, arched close to me.

He groaned again and I realized I had pulled on instinct, tightening the soft rope to keep him in place.

I thought of it all and I wondered: is this it?

Is this feeling what they all talk about?

Was this attraction? Sexual attraction? Intimacy? Romance? Was this a crack in the foundation of everything I thought I knew about myself, about him, about what it meant to be ace?

I twisted the ropes more around my palms, lowered my head enough that hair scattered around our faces in a protective curtain, and looked deep and long into those haunting eyes. Whatever the world may think. Whatever the labels were. Whatever this was... I wanted those soft pink lips to be mine.

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Cover photo: Le Marquis De La Rose Noire

Note: This book is wrapped, but will technically have some edits and probably an added chapter or two as I clean it up a bit!