After the cemetery, we visit Grant Park in the eastern part of the city. It houses a war memorial for the World War II vets. Behind the memorial is a small arboretum funded by one war vet’s family who happened to be very wealthy. The arboretum specializes in orchids and other rare flowers. There’s a small butterfly house attached. The owner knows me but is gone today, or I wouldn’t have brought Dove here.
“I know you’re taking photos of me now,” Dove murmurs.
I lower the camera. “Guilty.”
“You’re too far away to get a good photo of the butterflies. Come over here and take a picture of this one. He’s gorgeous. Do you know what kind he is?”
“I don’t.” I cross to her side and bend close to the brilliant blue and black creature. Its wings fold and open at a slow, steady rate. I snap two shots for Dove and then step back. “Let me take one of you looking at the butterfly.”
“Why though?”
“Because the picture is better if you’re in it.”
“Like for balance or something?”
“Something.” Does she not know how beautiful she is? When I show her these photos I’ve developed, maybe she will be able to see what I do. That she’s a muse, an inspiration. The way her hair falls across her face, the delicacy of her fingers, the soft curve of her cheek all stir me up crazy inside. I can’t make love to her with my hands, so I have to do it with my lens. I capture her bent over, straightening, and then staring straight at me through the glass eye of my camera. I drop the equipment away from my face.
“You’re breathing heavy,” she says quietly.
I lick my lips and swallow hard. “Yeah.” My heart is thundering behind my chest. Can she hear it? “I’m trying to take it slow, Dove, but it’s hard.”
She takes a step toward me. The humid air in the lepidopterarium becomes thicker, heavier. “Maybe I don’t want to go slow anymore. Got a higher speed?”
A smile breaks across my face. “I do.”
Lust is a consuming thing. It’s a fire that can heat up in an instant and flame for an endless amount of time. It can be stoked by starvation or constant feeding. You’re only fully safe from it if there’s been no ignition, but my fuse has been lit and there’s no stopping it.
I sweep her up, nearly knocking myself out by the low-hanging door header. My camera bangs against the side frame. I curse. She laughs.
“I can walk,” she tells me.
“Sounds fake to me.” I hold her tighter. “Grab my camera, though, so I don’t bust it worse than I already have.”
We make it home in one piece. I made her sit in the back seat because I didn’t trust myself not to reach over the console and finger her as I drove. I would’ve gotten into an accident and put us both in the hospital before I had a chance to taste her honey.
I slam the Rover in park and jump out. Before she can get the door fully open, I drag her out and press her up against the side of the SUV. My tongue plunges between her lips, and I wish it was my cock parting her mouth, sliding over her tongue and down her throat. The sensitive head of my dick throbs in anticipation. If I spend any more time out here kissing her, I’m going to end up fucking her in front of the basement garage security cams.
I pull away and wipe the back of my shaking hand over my mouth. “Let’s go,” I order, jerking my head to the elevator bank. Her unsteady gait makes me feel marginally better. She’s just as shook about this whole thing as I am.
The elevator is another test. We’re alone, and the temptation to take her to the floor is strong, but this is our first time and while I don’t have a bed of roses, fucking her in an elevator is not the memory I want to make.
By the time we get to the penthouse, my dick is so engorged with blood that I can barely walk. “Strip,” I command. My voice is dark and harsh, but it doesn’t scare her. I can see in the way her cheeks flush and her chest heaves that she’s as turned on as I am.
Our clothes go flying, and soon I am on her, skin against skin. The ruddy head of my cock presses up against her virgin entrance. I lean down and bite her nipple. She yelps and arches into my embrace. My cock slips inside her tiny, untouched opening. A gasp escapes her breath. She’s not ready yet, but I’ll make her so. I abandon her tits and move lower until my face is between her legs. I kiss her sex.