by Avarice Rose
Before I could react, he shook his head, bringing himself back to his human reality, and he pinned my arms down with his as he moved his hips down to meet mine. He positioned himself just at my opening, pressing his member against my clit teasingly. I moaned and shivered again as he pressed himself firmly against me, still trapped beneath his grasp. My legs were shaking uncontrollably at this point, and I suddenly grew nervous. I had never actually had sex with a shifter before. Nor had I been with a man of his... size. He sensed my hesitation and eased back a little bit.
"What's wrong? What did I do? Are you okay?" He said quickly, pulling away.
"Nothing," I whispered to him. "Nothing at all. Please, oh god please go on."
"No." He watched me for any hint of explanation, frozen in place.
I sighed, confused. "It's just, I've never been with anyone like you before. I'm scared. Not of you, really. Although I will admit, you're something to be marveled at." I motioned my eyes down towards his swollen cock that lay against my stomach. "I just don’t want to disappoint you."
He laughed in that beautiful boyish way and caressed his hand against my cheek. "You will never disappoint me, Skylar. You are mine, and I am yours, and you are perfect in every way. If you don't want to do this, we can leave, grab a coffee, and just hang out. If you want to stay, then I'll take it slow. I will never hurt you, I promise you this." My body felt like jelly. I nodded to him, unable to believe how absolutely perfect this man was.
"Take me," I whispered, and then bit his earlobe playfully.
At that, he pressed into me. Slowly at first, but I was so wet in anticipation that it didn't take long for my body to open up completely to him. After a few slow thrusts, he pressed himself fully inside of me, and my body exploded in pleasures I never even knew existed.
"Oh god," I moaned into him, as he worked himself in and out, pressing so deep inside of me. He pounded me like the waves pounded the shore. My desire resonated with Zack, and he quickened his pace as I arched my back, my head pressing into the wood beneath us as my hands ran up and down his back. He completely filled me. It was like puzzle pieces linking together to form a larger picture. He was the piece that had been missing. I lifted my hips to meet his as our rhythm built together, moving in unison pressed so closely against each other. He was far larger than any man I had ever been with, and my body ached from the pressure he built up inside of me. It was a good ache, and no matter how hard he pressed into me, he was never close enough. I needed him to consume me, to be part of me. I was desperate, and I couldn't let him go.
I felt a warm trickle down his back where I had been digging my nails into his skin. I hadn't realized I was holding on to him so tight. I felt guilty until I realized it was actually turning him on, and then I clawed him even harder. He pressed his body so deep into mine, then grabbed me behind the shoulders and spun me over so I was on top of him.
He stared up at me with those ice blue eyes, his gaze never wavering for a moment. I sat back on his swollen cock, pushing myself deeper and deeper onto him, willing my body to take him even further inside. Our hands clasped together, fingers intertwined, and we gazed into each other's eyes as I rode him to the rhythm of the surrounding waves. The wild ocean breeze felt cold against my skin, but his body exuded a warmth that radiated through my bones.
We spent quite a while together like this, eyes locked as I rode him rhythmically until I could feel myself getting closer to climax. I was so desperate to reach it, yet at the same time, I never wanted this night to end. I could tell from the look in Zack's eyes that he felt the same. I pressed my body down onto his as hard as I could, taking him as deep inside of me as I could possibly handle, and leaned down to whisper in his ear, "Fuck me. Now. I want to feel you come inside of me."
Without hesitation, he flipped us both around and pounded into me so hard I thought I might tear open. I wrapped my legs around him as tight as I could, as I could feel myself approaching a climax. He ground himself deep inside me, pressing his hips low into mine to build the friction between our bodies. I moaned loudly, my head bent back in agony. "Fuck me, Zack," I murmured in his ear as he pressed his face into my neck, panting wildly.
"Skylar," he whispered into my skin as he bit my collarbone, drawing just a little bit of blood. I screamed in ecstasy as he drew me over the edge, my orgasm hitting me so hard I could hardly breathe. He pushed himself deep inside as I felt his warmth spill inside of me, his body shuddering on top of me as the weight of his body settled onto mine. Still, he pressed deeper, coaxing my climax along for a longer ride than I knew myself capable. He suckled the skin in my neck as I moaned uncontrollably at my newfound sensations. We pressed out hips together one last desperate time, and then our bodies collapsed together, completely spent.
We laid there for what felt like hours under the moonlight, our bodies intertwined at the end of the pier, listening to the waves crash around us. Finally, the air started to get cold against my bare skin, and Zack moved to stand to get our clothes.
“Where are you going?” I asked while sitting up.
Zack fell back beside me and smoothed my hair from my face.
“Oh, sweetheart, I'm not going anywhere. I wouldn't dare leave you alone.” He shushed me with kisses. “I'm here for you. Always.”
His words were such a comfort that I relaxed straight into his arms and fell asleep against his warm body, the sound of the waves lulling me into fields filled with dancing wolves under a shining moon.
4.
The morning sun stung my eyes, and I grimaced against the light as seagulls cried in circles above. For a moment, I was confused. Where was I? I peered to my right and found a sleeping Zack, his beautiful features a welcome sight in the bright light of dawn.
No, that wasn't sunlight. That was--
“Mr. Rider! Mr. Rider! Is this your new girlfriend?”
“Zack, is this another one-night-stand?”
“Did you meet her at your party?”
“How long have you been seeing each other?”
“What's your name, beautiful?”
Oh, God. We were crowded by flashing cameras and people calling out insanely probing questions about who I was and how we came to meet. I shook Zack who was already awake and assessing the situation. He has managed to put his pants on and stood confidently. I was grateful to see he had covered me with my dress. He took my hand to help me up, and collected his jacket and placed it around my shoulders. I was lucky to be small enough that it covered all the parts that needed covering. He gave the cameras a debonair smile and then pulled me through the pack of flashing light with the most aggressive smirk I'd ever seen him wear. Once we were safely past most of the mob, he broke into a run.
Our legs moved in sync against the wooden pier until we hit the sand where I tripped and fell. Zack laughed and helped me to my feet, pulling me towards his car that was just across the sand and up the hill. My heart was racing, and I was absolutely mortified. My life was now no longer anonymous – I would become the new face associated with Zack Rider, and my bare bottom would be plastered across LA papers, not to mention magazines and news sites nationwide. Zack was still shirtless as we hopped into his Porsche, his jacket now lost to the beach behind us where paparazzi were stumbling through the sand to capture another picture of us making our escape.
As he peeled out of the parking lot, he waved his hand out the window, and I followed suit, soaking up the LA sun that was peeking over the edge of town and greeting us with rapturous applause. He turned to me and smiled. I couldn't help but smile back at him.
Suddenly his phone beeped, and he looked down at it. An instant look of anger flashed across his face.
“We need to leave town,” he said sharply. “Now.”
He swerved the car over four busy lanes of traffic and headed towards the onramp that would lead us to the highway heading north out of Los Angeles.
THREATENED
1.
I'm no movie star, but waking up next to the love o
f my life every morning makes me feel like a shining gem. Zack and I have been dating steadily for the past six months, and it's been nothing short of fantasy. When we disagree, we don't have a petty argument. Instead, we take the time to discuss how we feel and what actions we think we should take. We apologize and make up after that, sometimes in rather intimate ways. He doesn't belittle me, nor do I berate him for anything he chooses to do. Our lives are intertwined as well as separate in all the right areas. It's practically the perfect relationship. The word is that other Hollywood couples are incredibly envious of what we have because it is so rare. I’ll admit that after the events that occurred after our first night together, I was a bit weary of being with someone who is constantly in the spotlight.
Zack got a message from his publicist while he was driving me home after our first night together, informing him that some of his Zack’s pathetic groupies had broken into my apartment. I don’t know what they were doing there, or how in hell anyone knew where my damn apartment was - and I really don’t want to know how they got that information - but the second Zack got that message he whisked me away to his guest house just outside of the city for my own safety. We had only been together one night, but his fierce demonstration of protection towards me made me fall head over heels in love with him extremely quickly. We really haven’t been apart since.
Zack always says that fate brought us together, that other people are jealous because they choose to ignore their destiny. Instead of making a change when they're unhappy, they blame it on everyone else and continue to engage in the unhealthy behavior that leads them to sorrow and despondency. I certainly feel lucky to have found a man as mature as Zack, especially in this intense section of the world where sex and cheap gimmicks are the only things that sell.
Immediately after the night at the pier and the whole apartment fiasco, Zack gave up indulging in typical LA scripts and started producing better films that were more inclusive of women and engaging for a wider range of audiences. I was proud of him for changing up the regular pace and giving the younger female generation more to look forward to than uncomfortable high heels and expensive make-up lines. He still lived a life of luxury – which I was still uncomfortable with – but he was also giving a great deal back to the community and supporting projects that encouraged equality and increased opportunities for lower income families. I felt confident standing next to him as he made changes happen. It's all I ever wanted to do with my life.
I insisted on keeping my apartment, even as our relationship blossomed into a full-time romance, just for my own peace of mind. It became something of a fortress later as we used it frequently to hide from news vans and paparazzi. My life was really turning around for the better and part of that was Zack's fault. Maya said she'd never seen me so happy, that my face had been on a perpetual downward droop since the first day I moved to LA. Now, the corners of my lips were pointed straight up to the sky and wouldn't go down even in my sleep - or so Zack claims.
Today was a particularly wonderful day because it was the premiere night of one of my scripts. Jeb had finally accepted one of my screenplays three months prior, and my head exploded when he told me. He had called me on my lunch break to explain that he was absolutely in love with the lead character, that her strength and boldness was incredibly sexy. He wanted to start producing it immediately. I remember driving over to Zack's office just to tell him the amazing news, and I ended up getting slammed against his office desk in heated celebration. I was late returning to work, but it was worth it.
I slid out of bed and stretched, turning back to gaze at the man who had done a million and one things for me in so many ways. I smiled as I went to the kitchen to make coffee. As I poured myself a bowl of cereal, my phone buzzed from the room. I ran to retrieve it, hoping I hadn't woken up my man. It was an overly excited text from Maya written mostly in all caps about the premier and how she was proud of me for persevering. I responded that I was excited as well and that she should really tone it down before we got to opening night. When I finished typing, I sat next to Zack on the bed and stroked his hair. It was getting long. He said he'd have it cut before tonight, but I told him I liked it long. It made him look sexy.
As I stroked his hair from his face, his eyes opened slowly and focused on me. They were glowing in the morning light, his pupils fully dilated to absorb every bit of my image. If anything was a sure sign that Zack loves me, it's that right there. It's as if he wants to see all of me at once and never forget even the most minute detail. A smile crossed his lips as he recognized my face.
“Good morning, my love. How did you sleep?”
He reached up to stroke my face, and a shiver worked its way up my spine.
“I slept well. I just put the coffee on. Would you like some?”
“Definitely.”
I rose and went back to the kitchen to make him and myself a cup of coffee before we both had to run off for the day. It was going to be difficult concentrating on doing anything else except attending the premiere tonight. I wanted to see my work lit up on that giant silver screen, thousands of eyes focused only on what I've created for them to perceive. They would get a taste of a real heroine, and they would be able to relate to her. They wouldn't have to sift through regurgitated stereotypes of women in a futile attempt to find the one most suitable for them. They would be able to see themselves reflected in her eyes, just as strong and beautiful as ever. Never would they question their body or mind because of some impossible standard that Hollywood set for them. Now they could see real women and not be afraid of their own bodies.
I was so excited.
Zack could tell I was overwhelmed by my excitement because my hand was shaking while I poured our coffee. He steadied my hand with his and smiled.
“Sky, it's going to be okay.”
“I know. I'm just so nervous about my work being presented to the entire world.”
He nodded, understanding completely how it felt to be subjected to public criticism. I leaned into his shoulder and sighed.
“I just don't have the mental fortitude to handle this. What if they don't like it?” I asked, peering up at him with worried eyes.
“They will love it.” He whispered.
* * *
I was amazed by the crowd that was waiting for us at the front of the cinema. Zack's driver pulled us up to the red carpet as cameras surrounded the door, the hum of a thousand people muffled by the tinted windows. I stared through the dark glass, waiting. It was frightening being so popular. I'd never known more than ten people at a time, and that included work. I was so sheltered having grown up in a small town in the Pacific Northwest and never being exposed to the expansive world beyond the borders of my town. I could tell you anyone's name in that town and knew every inch that was important. Now I had over thirty casual friends who would meet us at any given place, and I couldn't tell you half their names.
Before opening the door, Zack took my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. It comforted me amidst the flash of light. He kissed my cheek and then we jumped into the sea of screams, washed over by the electric energy of people wanting to touch, talk, and taste. I was wearing a white Dior gown that dipped down low to my belly, coming up around my shoulders in a halter style and revealing my back. Zack wore a white tux to match. His skin glowed golden bronze against the white, and his icy blue eyes simply sparkled. We were gorgeous underneath the brilliant diamond light, and I couldn't help smiling. As we made our way up the carpet, we posed a few times and signed a few autographs, my signature looking so dull next to Zack's. I made a mental note to practice.
Inside, we were shown to our seats in the front row. As we settled in, the rest of the guests greeted us with gloved and jeweled hands, congratulating me on my instant stardom. I smiled kindly but felt a pang in my stomach that most of these people were being fake. They just wanted to appear supportive so that they could gain some social points. Maya arrived before I could fully panic. I grabbed her hand.
“Te
ll me this isn't happening,” I whispered through my teeth.
“Sky, it's okay. This is happening, and everyone is going to love it.” She patted my hand and sat back, the theater suddenly growing dark and the curtains parting to reveal the giant screen.
I sank down into my seat as applause filled the room in heated anticipation of what I'd written. As the screen lit up, I sank even further down until Zack scooped me back up and held me with his arm. He had been such an amazing support system. I felt him press his lips to my cheek which calmed me a bit as the movie unfolded.
But this wasn't what I had written.
To my dismay, the entire plot had been twisted without my knowledge and my lead female had been transformed into a sex object. I gripped Zack's hand tighter and tighter, betrayal and hurt filling my gut as the trashy plot progressed. This was no different than the womanizing stories that they had previously created, something I had vehemently avoided during my writing process. For my name to be attached to this crap was a travesty. The credits finally rolled up the screen, and I stormed down the aisle out to the front where I tried desperately to hold in a sob with the back of my wrist. Zack's limo pulled up, and I dramatically fell into the car, the cushions catching me as I collapsed into a fit of dry sobs.
Zack appeared next to me, pulling me into his arms and trying to calm me as I did my best not to hyperventilate. He smoothed my hair from my face that was once up in an elegant bun. Had my body not been in sheer shock, I would have been balling like a baby.
“I can't believe they did that to me,” I whispered incredulously into his shoulder, the limo suddenly lurching forward through LA traffic. “Why?”