by Scott, Inara
Her hips were already moving rhythmically, an incessant throb driving her against him. She needed pressure, already sought the release of orgasm, but he looked up at her and shook his head.
“Oh no, not yet, sweetheart. I’m not through with you, not by a long shot.”
He moved his body so he wasn’t touching her below the waist and continued to torment her nipples, covering them with wide swaths of his tongue, then licking and biting, just enough to send her jerking against him, her hands over her head pushing back into the cool sheets.
She was hot and wet below, her legs rubbing together in a slick motion. Smoothly, he transferred her wrists to his other hand and tickled her skin from ribs to hips, sliding fingertips lower each time, up to her breasts and then down until he had reached the top of her mound and tangled his fingers in her dark hair.
Already on the edge of climax, Alix cried out when he rested the palm of his hand against her clitoris. He did not rub or move, just applied gentle pressure while she jerked beneath him. When she began to move more quickly, her breath coming in little pants, he removed his hand and laughed softly.
“So impatient, greedy little one.”
She lunged toward him, freeing her hands in a surge of strength.
“My turn,” she said. She pushed him toward the bed, turning his shoulders so she could roll on top of him. His penis jutted into the air, a hard, hungry animal. She longed to climb on but restrained herself, instead taking him in one hand and running her tongue up and down his length.
He groaned, and she took him in her mouth, sucking gently and then with more force, taking him deep and then running her mouth around the head, tasting the first bit of sweet, salty fluid that collected at the tip.
With strong, determined hands, he grabbed her under the arms and pulled her up to face him.
“I learned my lesson last time,” he said. “There will be no more of that. At least, not right now.”
She looped her legs around his waist and leaned back, letting his hands run over her torso and caress her taut, aching nipples. Imagining the rolling of the ocean, she rocked against him slowly, teasing herself with the pressure against her clitoris.
Then she lowered herself down to rest against his penis, the hard length of him landing at precisely the right spot. She rode against him, sliding up and down his length until she was crying out with pleasure.
“Lord, woman.” He chuckled weakly, hands tight on her waist. “I need to get a condom on before we do something really stupid.”
She rolled onto her back and watched him pull a foil package from the bedside table. Her heart beat wildly, and panic started to rise in her throat as he eased the condom into place.
She closed her eyes and felt his weight on her chest.
“Tell me now if you want to stop,” he whispered into her neck.
In response, she opened her legs and thrust her hips upward.
He groaned, and she felt him enter her slowly, just like they’d done before. He pulled out, rubbed against her clitoris, eliciting a deep moan and painful, throbbing response, and then gently thrust back inside, a little farther this time.
The fear dissolved. This was right. Now, with this man. She spread her legs wider and moved her hands down to his buttocks. When he moved against her, she pushed him deeper inside while bringing her hips up against him.
He thrust deeper, and she gasped. She was tight, almost like she’d become a virgin all over again, yet having him inside left her needy and hungry in a way she’d never experienced. She couldn’t help but tense, and he must have sensed it, because he withdrew and substituted his finger for his penis, tickled and stroked her clitoris until she was once again on the verge of orgasm, and then slid his finger inside. He pressed up against the wall of her vagina, and at the same time rocked her erect nub with his thumb.
She cried out and arched against him.
He moved his finger away and resumed his position on top. Then he swallowed her nerves away with a deep, endless kiss that left her unable to think about anything else.
“Look at me,” he whispered as he positioned himself between her thighs.
She forced her eyes to open. He was staring at her, dark chocolate eyes fathomless, full of emotion. Trust me, she felt him say. I will protect you.
Alix melted, all the reserve, the fear, and the tension melting from her body. Unconsciously, her lids started to slide closed as her legs fell open, and he slid into her.
“No, no, don’t shut your eyes,” he urged. “Stay with me.”
Mutely, she let his gaze envelope her and let all the caring she saw there fill her.
“One…two…”
And then he was inside, and a cry escaped her lips. She was full, fuller than she’d ever been before, and a wave of emotion caught in her chest.
“Oh,” she moaned. “Yes. Yes.”
Cautiously, he began to move. In and out, now withdrawing all the way and tickling her clitoris with his penis, now penetrating deeply. She wrapped her legs around his waist and urged him to move harder, faster. She gloried in the sensation, their bodies moving in unison, his hardness buried inside her. They were one. It was nothing like she remembered. Sex in her youth had been a slightly painful, hurried affair with a boy who grunted a few times and then came. She had never been with a man. And certainly never a man like Ryker.
“Now,” he murmured. “Together.”
She kept her eyes open, knowing what she wanted to see but not imagining she would see it. But there it was—the moment of perfect passion, the splitting of her soul in an orgasm that surely made the heavens move. And he was with her, eyes half closed, arms clutched tightly around her. She saw it in him, the love she wanted so desperately. They were one, and they were made for each other. Their bodies knew it and so did their spirits.
She shook with release, cried out his name, and heard him do the same. He pulsed inside her, his waves of pleasure enhancing hers, bringing her back to her peak again, until finally, racked with shuddering, uncontrollable joy, she was spent.
The fireworks faded, she lay her head in the crook of his arm, and let herself drift off to sleep.
#
Ryker studied the woman sleeping peacefully at his side, bathed in the soft pink light of early morning, and wondered just how violent Gunther Hartcourt could really be. Would he have Ryker killed, simply tortured a bit, or perhaps tortured and then killed?
He rolled onto his back, careful not to jolt her awake, and silently smacked himself in the head. This would go down in history as the dumbest thing he’d ever done. Dumber than the tattoo he’d had to have removed when he started his modeling career. Dumber than the car he’d stolen when he’d turned sixteen. Dumber, certainly, than the time he’d told his girlfriend he had run out of condoms just so he could see what it felt to be truly naked, from head to toe, when they had sex.
Luckily, his girlfriend had started her period two days later. No repercussions there. But this time? Well, this time he didn’t see how he could avoid it.
Alix rolled over and murmured something in her sleep. Her cheeks were flushed, perfect pink roses blooming on her pale skin. The sheet fell back, exposing her full breasts. A tiny bruise stood out above her areola.
He must have gotten carried away.
Ryker practically snorted at the thought. Carried away? That was the understatement of the century.
Lifting the sheet just enough to expose his body, he inched out of bed. He tasted bile in his throat, a sick combination of anticipation, fear, and guilt. What would she say? What would she expect of him? Or, to put it baldly, how big of a scene was she going to make?
He grabbed a shirt, pants, underwear, and headed downstairs, head spinning. How could he have let it happen?
It had been an incredible night. He couldn’t deny that. From the first moment he’d realized she was truly offering herself to him and he’d imagined sliding deep inside her, he was lost. He could try to blame it on Rosa or Maria, the anniversary
of his mother’s death or two martinis in quick succession on an empty stomach, but the truth was, it had simply been Alix. Alix’s touch.
The memory of it started his cock tingling. He shook his head and started to fill the coffeepot with water, hoping to distract himself from the overpowering urge to march back upstairs and take her again, now, when she was still sleepy and tousled.
He wanted her from behind, where he could pull her hips hard against him.
He wanted her on their sides, her leg looped over his.
He wanted her standing up, her legs around his waist.
He wanted her on top so he could play with her nipples while she rode him.
The coffeepot overflowed and ran onto the counter. Hastily, he turned off the water. He had to get control.
Think, Ryker, think! What the hell are you going to say to her?
He was spared the agony of his own thoughts by her appearance at the door of the kitchen. She wore one of his T-shirts, and her nipples were visible through the thin fabric. She looked hesitant. Vulnerable. Words froze in his throat.
“Good morning,” she said and blushed.
His mouth gaped open, and he found himself unable to think of anything, anything at all, to say.
She watched him for a moment and then turned away. “Where’s the cereal?”
He motioned toward a cupboard. She pulled out a box of bran flakes and put it on the table.
“Bowls?”
He motioned again, still stricken dumb and mute, and she took down a bowl, grabbed the milk from the fridge, and pulled open a few drawers until she found the silverware. Then she sat down at the table and started to eat.
Finally, he cleared his throat and sat at the table beside her. “Alix, about last night…”
She cocked her head. “Oh please,” she said. He couldn’t tell if she sounded resigned, frustrated, or amused. Perhaps a little of each. “Let’s not go there. We’ve got a long day ahead, and I, for one, don’t intend to complicate it with heartfelt speeches. We can deal with that later. Now, how about some coffee?”
Chapter Twenty-six
Lena watched nervously as Alix and Ryker murmured to each other in low tones. It was Sunday morning, and the studio was quiet. They had sent any unnecessary crew members home. Soft music played in the background. The air was cool, and goose bumps stood out on her arms.
She was naked except for the tiny scrap of a thong she’d insisted on wearing. It was absurd, of course, but she liked to maintain the illusion that she and Jake weren’t screwing every night like bunnies, her eyes tightly closed, his open and seeking—or so she assumed.
She couldn’t close her eyes today. Today, the cameras would be rolling. Today, she’d have to look.
“Don’t be nervous,” Jake whispered. “You’ll be great. I know it.”
She ignored him, like she ignored all the endearments he whispered in her ear before they fell asleep. Part of her wanted to believe him, wanted it so bad it was like an ache in her chest. But another part of her still couldn’t let go of what had happened so many years ago. She was so terrified she’d get hurt again, she couldn’t believe that things had really changed.
Which was ridiculous, really, because in the past few weeks, it seemed that everything had changed. When it came to acting, Lena had learned she wasn’t so bad after all. She’d actually started to trust her instincts, throw herself deeply into her character and stop worrying about what the audience might think. She learned Jake Redburn had grown up since they’d first been lovers. When something went wrong on the set, he took responsibility. When she was tired, he took care of her, rubbed her feet, brought her salad with a few indulgent slices of good cheese.
But she still hadn’t opened her eyes.
“Quiet on the set!”
Lena took a deep breath. It wasn’t like they were really going to have sex. They were acting. Only acting. There wasn’t much dialogue; they’d already shot the scene just before and just after. It was only sex. Jake would climb into bed with her. At first, he’d be reluctant, still fighting their attraction. She would have to seduce him until his resistance was broken, and then he’d take control. They would film him kissing her breasts and belly, licking her inner thigh and caressing her bottom. When he was supposed to be entering her, they would film a close-up of her face. She would gasp, realizing that she loved him.
That part came from Alix. It was her bright idea to have Salva’s moment of truth come while she was having sex. Alix couldn’t make anything easy for Lena. Even their sex scene had to be more than a sex scene.
“Action!”
The first few takes were horrible. Lena’s body was stiff and unresponsive. Jake looked more worried than he did aroused. Alix pulled him aside for a few murmured instructions. He threw on a robe and wandered away from the set. Alix approached Lena next.
Lena hid her body under the white bedsheets. “What?” she muttered.
“It’s time to step it up,” Alix said briskly. “No more coddling. No more Ms. Nice Girl.”
“Are you kidding?” Lena poked her head out of the covers. “You’re picking now to go mean on me? You’ve been hanging out too long with Ryker.”
“I gave you my ChapStick spiel. That was the best I had. Now it’s time to go to work. Commit yourself. This is it. This is your moment. Miss it here, and it will never come again.”
“But—”
Alix held up a hand. “I’m not interested.”
Lena noticed for the first time the lines of tension etched around Alix’s eyes and the way she kept darting little looks at Ryker while they talked.
“Have a good night, did you?” Lena drawled.
Alix flushed beet red. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Lena chuckled. Oh, her expression was priceless! Like a teenager caught red-handed by her mother. “Did you commit yourself? Grab your own moment? Your one chance?”
Alix glared at her. “We’re here to film a movie, not talk about my personal life.”
“The professional is personal. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?”
“Can we get back to Salva’s Revenge, please?”
“No.” Lena pouted. “I’m not doing anything until I hear details. It’s obvious you’re in love with him. So what happened last night? Did you finally do the deed?”
“Please. Let it go, Lena.”
Lena knew she was being a jerk but couldn’t seem to stop. “I bet he’s good in the sack. At least, that’s what all the other gals say. Did he tell you he loved you back? They’re such good liars, these men of ours. You didn’t believe him, did you?”
Alix’s eyes were haunted. Her shoulders collapsed inward. “Of course not,” she whispered. “I would have to be crazy to believe something like that.”
Whatever nasty thing Lena had been about to say died in her throat at Alix’s painful reply. “Oh, hon, I’m sorry,” she said with genuine sympathy. Whatever hell Alix had put her through, she didn’t deserve that feeling. No one did. “I’m so sorry.”
Alix gave her a weak smile. “Let’s just say I know exactly how difficult it is to do what I’m asking. You’re good, damn good. Don’t let fear get in the way of that.”
Lena nodded, threw the sheet back over her head, and took several long, slow breaths. “Okay,” she said through the cloth. “I’m ready.”
“We’re ready,” Alix called.
Lena folded the sheet around her breasts and centered her head on the pillow. She focused on her character. She was Salva, not Lena. He was Hank McAdams, not Jake. She could do this.
“Places, please.”
Jake appeared next to the bed, naked, except for a tiny scrap of silk. Alix had wanted them naked. Ryker allowed a few pieces of modesty cloth.
“Quiet on the set!”
Jake stared down at her, eyes dark and hungry. Lena blocked out the lights, forgot the cameras, let the set fade to black.
“And…action!”
She held up her ar
ms, and he reluctantly climbed into bed. She kissed him, and for a while, he remained stiff and cold. Gradually, his body loosened, and he circled her with his arms. They fell into each other, limbs tangled, bodies intertwined. Slowly, the locus of control shifted. Instead of responding to her kisses, he initiated them. When he trailed a line of fire down her throat to her breasts, she relaxed and let him take over.
Her body didn’t care if she was Lena or Salva, if he was Jake or Hank. It responded to the passion in his touch and the way he caressed her skin as if she was made of the finest porcelain. He stroked her nipples, traced their outline, took them in his mouth, and she sighed with pleasure. Something fell into place, and she was transported to a place where nothing mattered but his hands, the weight of his body, and the pressure of his tongue.
“Yes,” she moaned, “I need you.”
He moved into position on top of her. The sheet had long since been kicked away, and their bodies pressed together, only a tiny scrap of silk keeping them apart. Jake stared down at her, and Lena shuddered once but kept her eyes open.
“Lena,” he whispered. “Look at me.”
In his eyes, she saw everything she had feared. Love. Commitment. Apology.
A question.
Her lashes fluttered.
Salva, she reminded herself savagely. You are Salva!
“Lena,” Jake said. “I love you.”
He pushed open her legs and settled between them.
“I love you,” he repeated. “Tell me you love me too.”
Tears filled her eyes. All her attempts at acting dissolved in an instant. She couldn’t fight it any longer. Maybe she was a fool. Maybe she was crazy. But it was there, right in front of her, and she couldn’t deny it any longer.
“Yes.” She sighed, and a smile creased her mouth. “Yes, Jake. I love you too, you stupid, stubborn man.”
“CUT!” Ryker roared in the background.
Tears streamed out of the corners of her eyes, and Lena laughed as Jake settled his mouth over hers for a long, deep kiss.