The Housewife and the Film Star

by Doris O'Connor

  "That's it, pet. Open up for me."

  Sven released her wrists, and used his freed hand to support her bottom. He ran his tongue over her rapidly beating pulse and bit down hard, eliciting another groan from her. The ache in his balls made his movements grow urgent, and her sweet pussy contracted around his fingers, when he bit the nipple that strained through the wet triangle of her bikini top.

  "Sir, we can't, the kids—"

  "Are busy on the beach, pet, and no one can see. I want you, right now, right here, hard and fast, and I want to hear you scream."

  Spurred on by her needy sighs he pushed himself into her wet core in one swift move. His body crowded her further into the side of the pool. His hands on her ass supported her, and her lust filled whimpers drove him on. Water sloshing around them, they set a frantic pace together. Sylvia met him thrust for deep thrust. Her fingernails dug into his back as she arched upwards. Her vaginal walls drew him in further, milking his long shaft, and when she bit into his shoulder as her orgasm hit, he followed her right over into oblivion with a deep growl of satisfaction.

  When their breathing finally returned to normal and their bodies stopped shaking, Sylvia's shy smile settled perilously close to his heart. He almost blurted out his tender feelings, but caught himself just in time. No need to complicate this.

  Sven shifted her upwards until she sat on the edge of the pool, and he heaved himself out after her. Sven took his time disposing of the condom, and he pulled his shorts back on. Then he wrapped a towel round her shoulders and sat behind her. Her back rested against his chest, and both their feet dangled in the water.

  He didn't trust himself to speak, his emotions still too raw and too new, so he settled for just cradling her to him. Sven wished he knew what the hell she was thinking. When he pulled the wet strands of hair off her neck, and inhaled her scent and rested his chin on her shoulder, she turned to look at him.

  "Feeling better now?" she asked.

  ****

  Her breathing finally under control, her body sated after their session in the pool, she felt his deep sigh at her question.

  "I'm sorry."

  Sven pulled her closer into his warmth. With his breath fanning across her wet skin, she let her eyes drift shut again, content to just sit in the sun for the moment, safely cocooned in his arms.

  "Are you okay, pet? I wasn't too rough?"

  The concern in his voice made her twist round, better to see his face, and she cupped one stubbly cheek in her palm, and shook her head.

  "I seem to have developed a liking for a bit of rough, Sir."

  His smile of approval shot straight to her heart, and she fell in love with him a little bit more. Sylvia hastily dropped her gaze to his chest, lest he read in her eyes, what her heart wanted to shout out loud. He wouldn't appreciate any declarations. He doesn't do love, remember, girl. He was only showing the concern a Dom showed his sub, that was all. It was part of the process, nothing more, nothing less. Sylvia had enough experience in the lifestyle to know that, before Richard had ruined it all for her.

  She pushed the disturbing thoughts away and snuggled further into his reassuring presence. She wouldn't think about the future, or the past. It was bad enough that she'd fallen hopelessly in love with Sven somewhere over the Pacific last night. So much for just enjoying great sex with no strings attached. There were always consequences, damn it.

  "Are you sure you're okay, pet?"

  Get a grip. He doesn't need you all sappy.

  "I'm fine, Sir. I was just wondering where you went to this morning."

  "I had to work out some stuff, and I did have to make some phone calls. In fact, I should get you indoors. You have a stylist arriving just after two to help you get ready for tonight, and—"

  "A stylist? Is this your not so subtle way of telling me that I need to spruce up for tonight? Whatever happened to finding me irresistible, Sir?"

  She had to bite back the giggle at his serious expression her playful words evoked. However, shivers of awareness chased the merriment away, as his next growled words danced along her spine.

  "Pet, you could go in a sack cloth for all I care. You'd still be the most beautiful woman to me."

  She lost herself for an instant in his intense gaze before he smiled, dropped a kiss on her nose, and pulled her up to her feet.

  "Unfortunately, my agent and manager would have a heart attack, however, and I want to show you off to the world. Besides, if I need to wear a monkey suit, the least you can do is be my adoring eye candy."

  The smile on his face was positively mischievous now. Sylvia poked him in the chest and then sashayed away from him. She threw down her own challenge.

  "Eye candy, huh? Well in that case you best be ready to bite off more than you can chew, Sir."

  Sven chuckled, the sound dark and dangerous, and she missed the step into the kitchen, and would have fallen over had he not been right behind her, and steadied her. He wrapped his hands in her hair and tugged her head back until it rested on his chest.

  "Less of the attitude, pet, or need I remind you there is a flogger with your name on it in my bedroom?"

  "No, Sir." Sylvia swallowed hard, and her stomach fluttered in anticipation. Yes, this, she'd missed this.

  "Sorry, Sir," she whispered, and Sven kissed her.

  "Good girl, and rest assured. You'll wear those heels, and I'll have no problem eating out your beautiful cunt." He ran one finger down her front, and Sylvia squirmed against him. Every cell in her body held in thrall by his gravelly voice.

  He tapped her butt with enough force to sting and then released her with a wicked smile.

  "I'll look forward to seeing my naked pet kneel for me after this premiere, wearing nothing but her heels."

  Chapter Sixteen

  "Wowie, Mummy look pretty."

  Timmy's sleepy voice made her smile as Sylvia bent down to give him another goodnight kiss.

  "Thanks, little man. You get some sleep, and I'll see you in the morning.”

  "You'll knock'em dead, Mum." Ruby gave her the thumbs up and then resumed reading Timmy's bedtime story.

  Alicia stopped her, as Sylvia stepped out of the room and drew the door shut.

  "They're right you know. You do look stunning, but be careful, Mum. He seems in such a foul mood."

  As if to confirm Alicia's words the sound of a slamming door rose from downstairs, followed by raised voices.

  "Sven, you're being unreasonable. You have to see sense here. The studio will never go for this. You're in breach of contract as it is."

  "So sort it, Steve, that's what I'm paying you for. I agreed to this fucking premiere and promotion crap, but if you think that I'll make another film with that bitch—" Sven's words were cut off by another slam of the door, though Sven's ice cold fury could nonetheless still be felt.

  "See what I mean, Mum? He's just getting worse. Maybe you should just let him go by himself. Even Edith is worried. He reduced her to tears earlier."

  Sylvia's heart sank as another vicious bout of swearwords carried up the stairs.

  "I can't not go, Ali. He needs me there. You don't understand. I'll be fine."

  "Mum, I've heard those words before, and you were far from fine. He seems in a worse snitch than Dad ever was before he—"

  "Ali!" Sylvia's sharp tone stopped her eldest mid-sentence. "He isn't Richard, and I'm not the person I was back then."

  "But, Mum, his reputation?"

  "Ali, what's this all about? You were the one who pushed us together in the first place, and now you're doing a U-turn? When we're miles away from home?"

  "I know, Mum, it's just … he's been so different since we got here. It's almost as though he's been playing an act, and now he's back on home turf he's showing his true colors. And, Mum, I had Kathy on the phone. I know, I know, you two have fallen out over him, but…"

  Alicia took a step back at the sigh of disgust Sylvia couldn't suppress.

  "I haven't fallen out with her over him.
I've just come to realize that Kathy isn't the person I thought her to be, and you cannot believe a word she says to you. Really, Ali, what has got into you?"

  "I know, Mum, it's just. I would never forgive myself if you ended up getting hurt again because of me."

  Sylvia's heart reached out to her eldest daughter, even as a trickle of unease went down her spine. She resolutely pushed it away, and she pulled Alicia in for a hug.

  "Listen to me, Ali. Richard wasn't your fault. I married the man, and he had us all fooled. I was looking for something that I thought he could give me. I made the classic mistake of falling for his lines, and I didn't realize what he was until it was too late. He was a Master manipulator." Sylvia had to bite back tears and reached for the collar she hadn't worn in ages. Ali noticed of course and pulled her hand down.

  "Don't, Mum."

  Sylvia nodded and forced a smile on her lips.

  "Like I said I was looking for something that I thought he could fulfill. What happened as a result wasn't your fault, any more than it was mine or even Peggy's. It's over and done with, and he can't hurt us anymore unless we let him."

  Alicia's small nod into her shoulder made Sylvia's heart clench painfully as dark memories descended. Hell. Not now.

  "I'm sorry, Mum. I guess it's just seeing Sven so furious … it brought everything back. Are you sure you're going to be okay, with him like that, I mean?"

  Sylvia made herself smile in what she hoped was a reassuring way.

  "Yes, I'll be fine. He's under a lot of strain now that we're back here, that's all. There are things you don't know about him, things that are not for me to share, but whatever you may have read, whatever Kathy is insinuating, I know he would never hurt me, okay? Well, not any more than I would want him to. What we have is consensual, Ali, and it's complicated, but I trust him."

  "Okay, Mum, but by hell if he does break that trust, he'll have me to deal with. And you really do look stunning, Mum."

  Sylvia pulled a face at that. The person who looked back at her from the mirror by the time the stylist was finished, hadn't seemed like her. She'd been nervous as hell when the bubbly, impossibly stylish red head breathed into the house. A small army of minions trailed in her wake, and Sylvia had had no idea what to expect. She'd been prodded and poked, manicured, pedicured, and waxed in some interesting places, but she'd put her foot down at the new shorter haircut the stylist had suggested. They'd settled on just a trim and putting her hair in some complicated up-do, which left a few long tendrils to trail into her cleavage.

  Choosing the dress had been interesting, too. Tessa had demanded to see what underwear and shoes Sylvia was planning on wearing, and whilst Sylvia had wanted the ground to swallow her up, Tessa had just nodded.

  "Well, well, well you do surprise me. I was expecting something drab, but these are just fabulous, darling, absolutely fabulous. Now, let's see, we will have to find the right shade of dress."

  "Surely a black one will do. In fact I've brought one with me—"

  "No, no, no, no, no!" Those red curls had bounced around the woman's head with such force Sylvia had felt quite dizzy.

  "Absolutely not, darling. Everyone would expect you to be wearing black. How boring. No, with your coloring, I was thinking turquoise, but that won't go with the shoes." After rummaging through the garment rails she'd brought with her, the stylist had pulled out a shimmering creation in pink, the exact shade of the heels. "Ta da. This might be a bit snug around the top, but being that your cleavage is one of your best assets, you may as well flaunt it."

  A bit snug was the understatement of the year. The shimmering silk clung to her boobs and made them appear huge. It skimmed over her hips, and the thigh high slit of the floor length gown showed acres of legs every time she moved. Add to that the much heavier make-up, and Sylvia didn't recognize herself.

  "Perfect darling, now you're fit for the red carpet." Tessa had clapped her hands in glee and with another clap to round up her minions, and several air kisses later, she'd clip-clopped her way down the very stairs Sylvia was now gingerly attempting to negotiate. Maybe she should have spent more time practicing to wear these heels. A door opened, followed by a low wolf whistle, which stopped her treacherous descent.

  Heat rose in her cheeks at the blatant appraisal she saw in Sven's driver's eyes, before he called back over his shoulder, "Hey, Sven, get your butt out here. You'll like the view."

  George stepped out through the open front door laughing to himself.

  "About time too, we're late enough as it is." Sven's manager mumbled under his breath, as he emerged from the living area. He, too, stopped dead, and stared up at her. Sylvia couldn't help the smug grin of female satisfaction. It did her confidence the world of good to see the man give a good impression of a guppy. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Mister. She'd taken an instant dislike to the little man when Sven had introduced them earlier. He'd looked her and up and down, and then had dismissed her instantly. Sven's immediate frown at the man's reaction had soothed her ruffled feathers somewhat, but Sylvia had made herself scarce. Tessa's arrival had been the perfect excuse to leave the room. Still that look had rankled, really rankled.

  "Hardly her fault, we had things to discuss anyway. You're so worried about being late, get your ass in the limo already. We'll be right out."

  Sven's gravelly tones were ice itself, his face a study in grim determination, as he, too, emerged from the room. He gave Steve a shove, hard enough to send the man flying, and then he looked up at her. Sylvia forgot to breathe, as his gaze briefly flickered to her face before slowly gliding down her body. By the time he finally reached the heels peeping out from under her dress her whole body was on fire, and she just about managed to draw a shuddering breath into her oxygen starved lungs at the wicked grin on his face.

  "Monkey suit and eye candy here we come." He crossed the distance to her in lightning speed and drew her into his frame. Her eyes were, for once, almost level with his, thanks to the killer heels. "You look stunning, pet. Now, let's get this farce over with, so that I can get you back home and eat you."

  ****

  Sylvia's feet throbbed, and her face ached from all the smiling she had to do since that limo door opened to the glare of lights, the screech of fans, and the ever present shutters of a seemingly endless round of photographers and reporters. It was a bloody circus with Sven in the middle and her hanging on to him for dear life. She'd long since given up trying to make any sense of it. Instead she'd settled for molding herself into Sven's side as seemed expected of her, and fixing a smile on her face that was far from sincere. Sven was the picture of politeness talking to the simpering female reporter, who stopped them for yet another interview. Sylvia wasn't really listening, too aware of the tenseness of the big frame next to her. The interview finally over, her heart ached for him, as his body went rigid. The unmistakable figure of Julia Landon advanced towards them. Bleached blonde hair hung artfully arranged round a frame so thin, it was a marvel she didn't topple over onto her surgically enhanced appendages, barely covered by the few scraps of material she was wearing. Wahey, a stick insect with balloons for boobs. That fleeting thought brought a genuine smile to Sylvia's lips, and she couldn't resist her next words.

  "What happened, her tailor run out of material?"

  The whispered words in Sven's ear forced a grim smile on his face, and his grip on her waist grew painful, as he leaned into her. He took a deep breath against her neck, and Sylvia's heart clenched anew at his groan into her shoulder.

  "Sven, darling, finally. We were beginning to think you weren't coming."

  Red taloned hands settled on Sven's chest. Completely ignoring Sylvia, Julia dropped a lingering kiss on Sven's mouth, and around them, the photographers went crazy. Sylvia didn't miss Julia’s wince of pain as Sven's white knuckled grip on the other woman's arm forced her to step back slowly. He dropped his hand as though it had been burned and drew Sylvia in front of him.

  The ice in his voice could have
frozen the Sahara.

  "Julia, do that again, and I don't care where we are. It'll be the last time you get to touch anybody."

  A flicker of fear briefly flew across the other woman's painted face. Then her false laugh rang in the air.

  "Tut, tut, temper, temper, think of your precious image, Sven, darling. After all, having gone through all the charade of bringing that" —her gaze rested briefly on Sylvia, before dismissing her—"you don't want to blow your cover, now. That wouldn't do at all, now would it?"

  Sven's low warning growl vibrated against her bare back and fixing an equally false smile on her face, Sylvia extended her hand. It gave the woman no choice but to take it.

  "So nice to meet you at last, Julia. Nice to know that everything I heard about you is indeed true." She increased the pressure of her handshake as the woman tried to pull away. "Kiss my man again, and he'll be the last of your worries. You will need your plastic surgeon to remove my heel out of your silicon cleavage, darling."

  Sven's amused chuckle into her shoulder was music to her ears. He spun her around and claimed her mouth in an earth shattering kiss. Once again, the cameras went crazy.

  ****

  Several hours later, Sylvia clutched her glass of champagne, and hoped like hell the murderous thoughts she harbored didn't show on her face. Expertly separated from a scowling Sven by none other than his manager, Julia and he had been whisked away for several television interviews following the actual showing of the action flick. Left to her own devices, Sylvia had had an enlightening conversation with a charming Swedish director. Hopelessly overbalancing in her heels she'd almost landed in the poor man's lap to the hooting laughter of his partner. His quick reactions had saved her from that particular embarrassment, only for her to go beetroot red at his heavily accented voice.

  "As charming as you are that move is completely wasted on him, min sköna."

  The beefcake of a man had winked at her, and Sylvia had wanted the ground to swallow her up.

  "I wasn't … I mean I wouldn't. Oh hell, I'm so sorry. I'm not used to my heels that's all."