She exhaled a shaky breath, her smile wobbling, but more relaxed than a moment before. Her fingertips grazed over my biceps, sliding up until her warm palms rested on my shoulders. Her passive touch betrayed the intensity burning in her eyes. Her hand rolled over my clavicle and down my chest. A shuddering breath ripped through me as her fingers reached my ribcage.
“That’s great, you guys,” Ben said from somewhere behind us. He sounded far away even though I knew he wasn’t. “I just have to set a couple more of the side lights. It’ll be a few more minutes.”
Lucy’s eyes darted open, wide, shocked. Her muscles tensed and she pulled back from me, surprised.
“Ignore him,” I whispered, brushing my thumb across her tight jaw.
Mid-breath, she relaxed, sitting harder against my cock and settling my hard length into the soft warmth between her legs. I groaned quietly, delighting in her gasp. I was hard as fuck, hot as hell, and more than anything I just wanted to tear off those boyshorts and plunge inside of her over and over.
Her hands flew back to my shoulders, fingers curling around the taut muscles as the tension between us grew thicker like a storm rolling in over a violent ocean.
I dragged my hand back from where it cupped her jaw, tangling my fingers into the wig. The acrylic strands were coarse and stiff between my fingers. Scooping my hand beneath the wig, I caught a handful of her real hair and wound it in my fingers, tugging the strands as tight as I could from within the confines of the costume.
This time, her gasp was more of a whimper and she searched my face, her mouth dipping closer to mine. Her lips hovered above me, so close I could almost taste her. Craning my neck, I brushed my mouth gently across hers, feeling the surge of air as she released a breath against me. “Don’t worry,” I whispered, opening my eyes and looking over her shoulder. Ben and Erik were on the other side of the room, barely paying attention to us. Their attention was fixated on the lights and the gels and running around making adjustments. “They can’t see us from where they are.”
With my other hand still on her hip, I slid my thumb inward, applying pressure as close to her sweet cunt as I could reach; not quite touching it, but close enough that her hips bucked with the pressure. “Oh, God,” she said, her voice lower and rougher than I’d ever heard it. Her body pressed harder against me, those full breasts hitching higher as she took a deep breath into her lungs and held it with pursed lips.
I flicked out my tongue, tracing her sweet lips, still pressed into a firm line. Her hooded eyes stayed fixed onto mine as she released her breath and met my tongue with hers, gently and slowly. Licking. Exploring.
“Great,” Ben interrupted from across the room, behind us. “I just need to light one more position and then you two will be released.”
Release. I almost laughed. Fuck, if we didn’t need a release something fierce. “Sure,” I said, my voice nearly a growl. “What’s next?”
Lucy swallowed, as I loosened my hold on her hair. She fixed the wig, straightening it on her head.
“I need you sitting on the edge of the bed. And Holly… er, Lucy, lying across your lap. For the spanking scene.”
If I thought she froze up earlier, her muscles went absolutely rigid this time.
“Spanking?” she whispered.
Ben nodded. “Don’t worry. I think we can mostly fake it for the lighting purposes. I just need to make sure the light isn’t too low to blur the movement.”
She looked like she’d seen a ghost. Her face paled to an ashy hue, her breath fast and rapidly rising in her chest. I sat up and brushed my hand over hers, feeling the rapid flutter of her heartbeat slamming against the inside of her wrist. As her eyes met mine, raw, honest fear collided with lust and passion in that simple gaze. She wanted me as much as I wanted her… and that scared her.
Well, sweetheart, it scares me, too.
“You can say no,” I reminded her. Please don’t say no…
In the blink of an eye, her demeanor shifted. She rolled her shoulders back, in an effort to appear in control. Don’t fake it, baby. Let me do it for you. She took one final deep breath, her mouth curving into a falsely confident smile. “I’m fine.”
She crawled off of me while I scooted to the edge of the bed. As she crawled on her hands and knees, her ass bumped into my shoulder. Firm, but lush. Fuck me. Then, slowly, she lowered herself across my lap. If her kneeling on top of me was torture… this would be my death. Her breasts curved around the outer edge of my thighs, her flat stomach pressing against my ever-hardening cock. It stabbed painfully against the restrictive cotton of my boxers and metal zipper of my pants. Her weight offered some pressure—some relief. But not enough.
“Good,” Ben said. “Um, Lucy, could you arch your back more… stick your backside out higher.”
I groaned, and for the first time, Ben seemed to hear it, his gaze jerking to me momentarily. A smile threatened to twitch at his mouth, but he managed to suppress it. Good thing, because I may have shoved the light meter up his ass if he had laughed right then.
Those sorry excuses for shorts were riding up Lucy’s ass, revealing the bottom curve of her cheeks and smooth upper thighs. She arched her back harder against my cock and rotated her head to look up at me.
I lifted a brow down at her. “Enjoying the show?”
“Not as much as I’m sure you are.”
“Pretty sure Judy Garland would never tease a man like this…” I said.
Her smile climbed higher. “Maybe. Maybe not. But Liza sure as hell would.”
Lucy
Holy shit, I thought, squeezing my eyes shut. Ash wanted me. Like blaringly obvious, hard-dick-against-my-body, wanted me hot and naked.
And what was crazier… I wanted him, too. For the first time in my life, I wanted a guy enough to perhaps give into this burning curiosity I had about BDSM. Despite all the odds. Despite my history and my dad and that itching feeling in my gut telling me to run in the opposite direction. I wanted Ash enough to ignore the red flags and warning signs flashing all around me. I wanted him enough to go back on a promise I had made to myself as a child.
Or did I?
This was a man who got off on hitting and spanking women. One half of my brain told me to run from these urges. Run and don’t look back. Don’t end up like my mother with a man who enjoyed causing emotional and physical pain. But the other half of my brain knew Ash wasn’t like my father. Or rather… maybe my heart knew it. He may bruise my body, but he would never truly hurt me.
The dampness between my legs was soaking through and I was sure if Ash couldn’t see it, he could probably feel it. His hard length pushed into my belly and every cell of my body was screaming for more contact.
I wanted to feel Ash bring his palm down on my ass. I wanted to feel a sting that elicited both a surge of pain and pleasure. I wanted the marks, red and angry welts that would brand me as his and only his. The flesh between my legs pulsed, greedy, wanting so much more than what I was currently getting. My body actually ached, swollen, like everything beneath my skin was two sizes too large and pressing outward.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to ignore the heavy pulses of blood rushing between my legs.
“Okay,” Ben said. My eyes shot open as the cinematographer stepped back, looking at us through his camera. “Lucy, are you okay with Ash touching you?”
I snorted a laugh, and the bouncing jostled Ash's erection deeper against my abs. “I think we’re a bit beyond that now.” On the outside, I was cool and collected, but I wanted to scream out, God, yes. Please touch me!
Ben smiled from behind the camera. “Okay then. Ash, can you give her a light tap. Let me see how that looks.”
From above me, there was a rustling of movement as Ash pulled his hand back. His palm connected to my ass in a light tap. “Again,” Ben said, “I need a little more speed than that Ash.”
I need a little more force than that, Ash. I echoed Ben in my thoughts. So much more, please, please, please.
&
nbsp; “Lucy?” Ash asked. The low rumble of his voice vibrated against my body as he spoke, sending a shiver to the edges of every extremities.
He was asking for permission. My consent. The consideration he had for me, and the respect he was showing with this less than ideal situation made me want him even more.
“I’m fine,” I croaked. “I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”
His sharp breath pushed the hard ridge of muscles in his abs against the side of my body. I ached to see them, to touch them, to lick them. He had his chance, a little voice inside me echoed. And he left you at your front door with a chaste kiss on the forehead. He pulled away from you. Rejected you. Left you to walk up to your apartment alone. It hurt. It hurt more than I cared to admit. But Friday in his trailer? Even though we agreed to be friends, it felt like more. So much more.
He pulled back again, this time his palm connecting against my skin harder. The sting was minor but sent a jolt of pleasure from my core to my clit. And afterward, his hand lingered on the curve of my ass, his fingers circling where he had struck. Soft. Gentle. It was a complete counter to the slap he had just given.
“Hold please,” Ben said. “Erik, help me brighten D9 and L17.”
The two of them went to work adjusting some of the lights and I pushed onto my elbows, turning to look at Ash. “I have to admit,” I said, “Of all the things I thought I'd be doing today, getting spanked by you was definitely not one of them.”
His fingers still circled lightly over my ass cheeks in long, soft strokes that were almost hypnotic in their movement. A smile curved one side of his mouth. A low, masculine chuckle rumbled through his chest. As his hand circled my bare flesh at the backs of my thighs, I could feel the textured gold of his ring. Cooler than the rest of his touch. Like a reminder of why he rejected me Thursday night—because I knew in my gut it had to do with that ring. “I have to admit,” he said, his voice just one notch above a whisper, “I did. Just didn’t expect it to be on set with an audience.”
“Liar,” I said, snorting.
His grip went still on my backside, fingers pressing against my flesh. “I’m a lot of things, Lucy. But I’m never a liar.”
I wanted to ask, Then why did you leave me to go up to my apartment alone? Why did you pull away? But my moment of bravery dissolved. My breath stilled at the forceful way his hand squeezed my skin. Not painful—but commanding. I want more of this. Whatever this feeling is… Anticipation spiked inside me, the feeling shooting from my belly to the base of my throat.
I opened my mouth, not sure what I was going to say, and I surprised myself as I said, “Hit me harder.” Immediately, heat slammed into my face. Embarrassment burned a white hot path down to my stomach. “I-I mean, I know that Ben needs to make sure the movement isn’t blurred—”
His dick twitched against me. It was like steel, covered in fancy dress pants. Like a caged monster. And fuck if I didn’t want to be the one to free it.
“You’re killing me,” he murmured.
“Right back at you,” I whispered.
“You’re the one who wanted to be friends.”
Friends. Did friends do this? “Yes, I did. Because you couldn’t make up your mind. I’m not the one who walked away a few nights ago.”
“I had my reasons.”
I swallowed, my throat feeling dry. “And what about now? Do you have reasons now?”
“About a million,” he said. My stomach dropped. All hope plummeted until Ash added, “But with you here in my lap, it’s hard to care about any of them.”
I gasped, an actual sharp breath that caught in my lungs. “Please, Ash,” I begged, arching my back against him. “Please.”
A grin twitched the corners of his mouth. “Well, since you asked nicely.”
Then, his fingers dipped between my legs. He slid them against the soft folds, stroking firmly up to my clit with two fingers, and then gave me a little pinch.
I whimpered, pulsing my hips against his touch. It felt so good. He felt so good. What were we doing? What if Ben saw? Or Erik?
“Luciana,” he whispered my full name, and this time I gasped, my head falling over his lap; all concern about someone seeing us vanished. Red strands streaked across my vision and I didn’t bother brushing the wig out of my face. It was too good. Too much. I was sinking into an abyss of pleasure and needed the pain to balance it out.
“Okay,” Ben said. “Let’s try it again.”
Ash’s thigh muscles strained against my body. The pause was longer. The anticipation edged across my skin. When was it going to happen? When would his hand strike? When he finally brought his palm down, his hand connected to my flesh with a crack.
The studio went silent, except for my yelp.
The pain was sobering, and yet did nothing to alleviate my desire. Did nothing to calm down the pulsing heat between my legs or the aching tenderness of my nipples. All it did was make me crave his touch between my legs once more. I wanted to see. I wanted to watch as my skin turned pink.
“What is going on in here?” A voice boomed. Uncle Richard.
I scrambled to get off Ash’s lap, as questions danced in those blue eyes of his. Shame burned hot in my chest. I had wanted that pain—had practically begged for it—and even now, with my ass still stinging, I wanted more. A dark thought clouded my thoughts. Is this how it started with my mom? Did it start as bedroom games and escalate to life? My cheeks flushed and I couldn’t look Uncle Rich in the eyes.
Ben cleared his throat. “Okay… uh, I think we got it. Thank you to both of you.”
More silence as I dove for the robe hung beside the door, covering myself with it. Normally, I would just explain the situation to Uncle Richard, but in this environment? It couldn’t be me. For a costume design assistant to explain to the president of the studio what he was seeing? Red flags would be raised all over the place.
“Can someone please tell me why my director is spanking the barely legal costume assistant on set this morning?” Uncle Rich boomed.
I heard Ash hiss a curse as he stood and took a deep breath. His erection wasn’t wildly noticeable… but I could still feel the burning outline of where it had been against my body. Large. Thick.
Ben walked over to Rich first. “Our stand-ins were no shows. We had to find crew members of similar skin tones to get the lighting set.”
“And there was no one other than…” Uncle Richard paused, his gaze sweeping the studio, landing first on Ash, then on me. “No one other than the director of the film to do that?” It was obvious that he was more upset about the use of me, not Ash. But there was no way he could say so without outing me as his niece. I breathed a relieved sigh.
Ben cleared his throat. “No one else looks as much like Jude as Ash does. I know, it’s not ideal.”
“And this poor new member of our crew had to be half naked for you to do this?”
Ash’s eyebrows furrowed together. “Yes,” he answered simply. “Rich, you’ve been in this business a while. You know as well as we do if it’s a nude scene, the lighting has to be set against flesh tones.”
“Is this the message we want to send our staff?” Uncle Richard ran his hand down his face. His lips drained of color as he pressed them into a tight line. Grunting, he said, “Thousands of out-of-work actors in this town and we can’t manage to find two fucking stand-ins?”
“We will have them tomorrow,” Ash said.
“You fucking better.” Uncle Richard spun, storming out and slammed the door behind him.
Chapter Nine
Lucy
I watched from the corner as Jude and Marlena acted out the scene—the moment when Holly is fully immersed in the BDSM lifestyle. And the two of them? Wow… they were mesmerizing together. On and off camera. I stared at them in awe as the two would switch back and forth between Leo and Holly and Jude and Marlena. Their chemistry more than sparked… it was like a freaking light show right in front of my eyes.
They reached the spanking scene, and I
could feel Ash’s gaze searing into me. Feel his awareness of my every move. As though my reaction to this scene would determine where we went from here.
Marlena bent over Jude’s lap, completely nude. On a normal day, on a normal film shoot, there would be dozens of people standing by. Here, there were only seven. The doors were locked. The windows were covered. It was as intimate as a film set got.
I never considered myself to be anything near a movie star. I never associated with actors; never saw myself on camera or on stage. I excelled as the stage manager. The costume designer. Anything behind the scenes and in the dark shadows away from the spotlight. But seeing Marlena there in the same position I had just been in? I could almost close my eyes and picture myself center stage, taking the spotlight.
Jude struck Marlena hard against the backside, leaving a red welt where he had hit her. My skin tingled at the sight of that mark and goosebumps raced down my arms. Her body tightened, bucking against his hand. And then… he did exactly what Ash had done to me. Jude’s fingers circled over the red flesh, caressing it. Caring for it before pulling back and striking her again.
My attention jerked to where Ash was sitting in the director’s chair. He chewed on his top lip and his knee bounced up and down. With a quick glance, he looked to me, before pulling his gaze back to the scene before us.
The room spun around me, the air suddenly hot and stifling. I always thought BDSM was just a dirty kink—something people did to fuck around and display their power. But it was more than that—Marlena and Jude were madly in love. It was evident after only seeing them from afar for a few minutes. It didn’t have to be sadistic—with them, it even looked affectionate. But, they were just acting… right?
“Cut!” Ash called.
Swallowing, I rushed forward with Marlena’s robe. Jude took it from me, smiling briefly. “Let me,” he said. Then, holding up the robe for Marlena, she slid her arms in and he covered her exposed body, dropping a kiss to the curve of her neck.
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