The Director

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The Director Page 25

by Lily White


  I hadn't just fallen for a man who tormented me. It was nothing as weak or stupid as that. Because when you took the entire picture of my journey with Ethan and broke it down frame by terrifying frame, only one answer was left to be given:

  I'd taken a script written to show the most depraved of all nightmares and had somehow discovered notations of love scribbled hastily within its pages.

  Locking my eyes to Ethan's, there was no fear left inside me. "I've just given myself to you. That's what I've done. It's up to you now to decide what to do with it."

  With his lips pulled into a sly grin, his grey eyes glimmering with carnal knowledge, Ethan tightened his fingers into the strands of my hair and spoke far too gently. "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, Emma, but you just sold your soul to the devil."

  EMMA

  In the span of two seconds, I finally understood a truth about myself that my mother had always told me. It had been her warning, cast in loving words and delicate reminders, that I always thought too much with my heart, when I should have been paying more attention to the logic screaming inside my head.

  It was the difference between a reckless woman and a cautious one, a hopeless soul and a survivor. I'd always assumed her paranoia had been a result of constant fear, but what I learned in the seconds that followed giving myself up to a man like Ethan Cole was that even a touch of my mother's paranoia would have spared me from the heart wrenching circumstances enslaving me down to my very soul.

  Never had I wanted a person more than the man standing before me. And never had I faced such a dangerous threat as what my love for him would do.

  But still, I stood there staring up into the face of my tormentor, not caring about the tight grip he held on my hair and not seeing the beast coming to life inside him; I stood there with a heart that beat harder just because he was near me.

  I deserved the repercussions that came with foolish decisions, and I would gladly suffer the consequences of dropping the mask I'd clung to since meeting this man in order to reveal to him my greatest weakness.

  My decisions were made solely by my heart, and in the brief flashes of his truth that I had seen when he didn't know the mask had slipped, he'd touched the heart that housed my fire and had branded it with his name.

  Breathless to be balanced precariously on a precipice between pleasure and pain, I challenged a man to show me the worst of him. Fortunately, for me, Ethan Cole was not the type of man to back away easily from a challenge.

  Stepping around me, he didn't ease his grip on my hair. I was dragged backwards, stumbling over my own feet, too busy trying to wrench myself free to notice where he was leading me. The cold stone floor became plush carpets beneath my feet, and before I could utter one word in protest, I was flung on his bed, weighed down by his body and pinned by the shoulders to the mattress.

  Callous, cruel eyes stared down at me, the fear returning as a rush through my body while I realized in that single moment that this man was the most terrifying and beautiful soul I had ever seen.

  "Did you have fun teasing me from my own stage, little girl?" His head angled to the side, his body a solid, heavy weight. "Did you really believe that I would let you toy with me so easily?"

  Shivers coursed through me at the tantalizingly rough edge to his tone. Lips parted, I held his stare while struggling to calm my racing heart. A snappy retort sat on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't seem to catch enough of a breath to voice it.

  He laughed. "Where are all of your ridiculous questions now?"

  Not giving me time to answer, Ethan rolled off of me to stand from the bed and cross the room. As he pulled open a door to his bureau, I shuffled over the mattress, torn between the intense need I had for him and the whispered voice inside me that warned me I should run.

  "You like being tied up," he crooned, his hands shifting through whatever he kept tucked away in his bureau. Finding it, he turned to me, sensuous violence written into his expression. "I learned that much from your night with James."

  Shaking my head, I shuffled away a little more. I was on the edge of the mattress by the time he caught my ankle with his hand and dragged me back to the other end. The t-shirt crawled up my body from the movement, stopping just below my breasts. Holding me in place, Ethan dragged an appreciative gaze up my body. Eyes finally reaching mine, he smiled, the expression more dark than friendly.

  His hand came down on the mattress beside my head, his body leaning over mine until his mouth brushed against my cheek. On a whisper, he asked, "Did he get you off, by chance, when he bound you and made you helpless?"

  I shook my head, again having difficulty finding the ability to speak. After the confessions Ethan made, I'd believed there was a vulnerable side to him, that somewhere beneath the persona he displayed openly, there was a person

  His demeanor now showed me just how foolish a mistake that belief had been.

  "You're scaring me," I confessed, my voice so soft I wasn't sure he heard me. The wide smile stretching his face proved to me he had.

  "Good."

  Releasing my ankle, Ethan flipped me face down onto the mattress, his actions so quick that I couldn't roll away before his fingers grasped my wrist.

  "Allow me to correct that error." Slamming my hand against the headboard, he tethered my wrist in place, the tightness of the bindings pinching my skin. Once that hand was bound, he rounded the end of the bed to tether my other arm. I hadn't been fast enough to untie myself before he'd taken control of my free hand and bound that wrist as well.

  Forehead pressed to the headboard, I pushed up onto my knees to relieve some of the weight hanging from where he'd bound my wrists. Fire shot down my arms, my t-shirt hanging open beneath me to let the cool wind rush in. The mattress shifted beneath my knees as Ethan moved to kneel behind me.

  Palms sliding against my sides, he toyed with me by dragging just the tips of his fingers down my skin to trace the full curve of my hips, down farther until his hands gripped the backs of my thighs at the knees. My attempt to pull free was useless against his strength. He pressed his thumbs into the muscle until I cried out in pain, punishing me for even thinking I could get away.

  "What's with the sudden modesty, Emma? Especially after showing me how much of a dirty girl you are on stage." My legs were pushed apart, his shirt brushing against my body. Leaning down, he softly kissed the small of my back before sinking his teeth into the left cheek of my ass. I hissed out another pained sound, my legs suddenly shaking with fear and need.

  Licking the soreness before straightening his posture, he traced a single finger up the back of my thigh as a tantalizing tease. I shivered at the sensation, my mouth going dry as I came to the slow realization that of all the men who'd used and abused me, none of them held a candle to the wickedness of the one who held my heart.

  "Ethan," I said, not really having a thought in mind other than the driving need to speak. It didn't matter whether I'd planned to say much of anything, because he wouldn't have given me the time to say it. His hand wrapped over my mouth, his body moving above mine like the shadow of storm clouds rolling over the ground. I stilled like any prey would do when trapped beneath a predator.

  "There is one thing I've been meaning to do to you since the moment I first saw you. Something I've wanted to do since the first time you parted those pretty little lips in defiance and told me you'd rather die than fuck a man in front of my cameras."

  The soft susurration of silk sounded behind me, the cloth pressed against the corner of my mouth before he took the ends with both hands and tugged it against my mouth. The force pulled through my lips and between my teeth, pressing my tongue against the roof of my mouth making it impossible to speak. Taking both ends into one hand at the back of my head, he tugged again, pulling my head back. His breath was hot against my ear, "You talk too much, my love."

  With his free hand, he explored down my body, taking his time to tease the weight of my breast before dragging down the muscles of my stomach unti
l his fingers were temptingly close to the most intimate part of me.

  Unable to move or complain, I froze, wondering just how stupid I'd been to let him bind me. Stuck in place with his hand tugging on my gag like the bridle of a horse, I fought to breathe evenly through the panic pulsing inside me that mixed with a heady, untamable want. I wasn't in a position to defend myself from Ethan's assaults, and yet that made my body respond to him more. Warm, wet heat blossomed between my legs, my hips writhing against his body, begging him to make me scream. Whether in pleasure or pain, I didn't think it mattered anymore.

  Ethan's teeth sank into my shoulder as his fingers drove farther between my legs, a moan crawling up my throat at the sting of pain blending with the pleasure of that small relief. His thumb caught my clit as his fingers slid down to push through the slickened skin to circle my entrance. Teasing me with the slide of those fingers, he would pinch my clit just to send a shock of sensation through me, rubbing the pain with his thumb while sliding his fingers down to tease my entrance once again. Over and over, never driving inside me, never granting me the release he was plucking like a well-tuned string.

  "Please," I attempted to say, the sound muffled and nonsensical. But it didn't matter that the word was distorted by the gag, Ethan knew exactly what I was saying.

  "Please what?" He whispered, humor weaved through the question. "Did you want me to reward you for what you did today?"

  If I could have moved my head, I would have nodded it enthusiastically.

  "Silly, girl. I know you thought you found a weak spot, some truth you could use against me, but all it did was get you in trouble. Now you're bound, helpless and completely vulnerable to whatever I decide to do with you. Do you actually believe I won't leave you like this and invite some people in to enjoy you?" His soft voice beat against my ear. "I've done it before, Emma. What makes you so sure, I won't do it again?"

  My eyes widened in response to the threat. With any other man, I'd decide it was just a game, a lie intended to spike panic through my heart. But with Ethan...

  "Wait here while I take the time to decide what I plan to do with you."

  Removing the gag, he worked quickly to use it to blindfold my eyes, his retreating steps lost as I called out his name and demanded he come back. "This isn't funny, Ethan! You son of a bitch!"

  He was gone by the time I stopped yelling, silent as a mouse while I pressed my forehead to the headboard and felt nothing but a cold breeze rushing between my legs. Tears welled in my eyes at how close he'd pushed me to orgasm, only to walk away and leave me grasping for that last bit of a push I'd needed to fall into the throes of ecstasy.

  "Asshole," I cursed under my breath, both crying and laughing at how stupid I'd been. A door opened in the living room, slammed closed and I waited for what felt like hours until it opened again and an odd sound filtered in. Growing louder, that sound announced the approach of ... something.

  Tensing where I was on my knees and bound, I turned my head toward the sound to find that it was gone. A few clicks echoed in the room, then the familiar whir of a camera.

  "Ethan," I growled, suddenly angry that he'd taken the advantage so easily.

  "Uh, it's Brent actually," a familiar voice said, more apologetic than anything. "It's...um...good to see you again."

  No...he wouldn't have done this...

  "Sorry," Brent apologized, "I'm just following orders."

  Oh, that son of a whoring bitch...

  I knew better than to trust the bastard. He'd proven it time and time again, and yet here I was, bound and blinded because I'd let myself believe I'd seen past his mask to the man lingering beneath.

  Footsteps shook the floor beneath the bed, the mattress dipping as a body crawled up from the bottom to kneel behind me. I flinched as soon as two warm hands grabbed my legs to spread them apart again. I heard something bang in the distance but didn't recognize it over the thunder of blood rolling in my head. Breathing deeply, I calmed myself down and tried to focus on all the ways I'd get even.

  More sounds were a soft brush against my senses - a zipper being lowered, a belt being pulled from the loops, the slide of pants down a man's legs as he readied himself to fuck me.

  I should have known when I didn't hear the belt hit the floor, that it would be used for another purpose. The cool, smooth surface of leather slid around my throat, the buckle sliding down until it choked me softly. The spark of panic in my body exploded into a roaring fire.

  My head tilted back like a dog held by the collar as a cock slid inside my body, slow but steady. Despite the anger coursing through me, I still moaned at the thickness, the feeling of being split apart and put back together before he'd even started thrusting.

  It was wrong to enjoy it, wrong to allow the rage inside me add to the orgasm that was steadily building. My neck locked in the belt, my eyes blind to the man using my body, I couldn't help the way my pussy gripped greedily over the cock moving so slowly.

  Within seconds, the release I'd lost as Ethan walked away was coming back with a malicious vengeance, but each time I was driven just to the point where the pleasure could detonate and consume me, the thrusting stopped, the belt tightened, and he would start all over again.

  Leaning over me until his chest was pressed to my back, he licked the tip of his tongue along the shell of my ear. "Do you like that?" he whispered with dark intent, Ethan's voice pushing me over the edge. He only had to push in one more time for me to go careening over ecstasy's sharp edge.

  I hated him, but I loved him just the same.

  A throaty moan burst from my lips, my body shaking as my pussy undulated over his cock. His own breathing grew heavier as he slammed inside me harder, the mattress rocking beneath our bodies. Even as I was coming down from a high that made stars burst behind my eyes, he kept moving and taking, touching and teasing until I was back on that steep precipice again.

  There was no mercy inside him, but it was to his torment that I'd become addicted.

  His palm splayed over the swell of my ass, his thumb sliding between the cheeks to tempt the hole. I bucked against him, pleas falling from my lips that he move just a touch faster to send me over that edge. But just as I was there, just as the tidal wave was about to crash down on me and pull me out to sea, he stilled his body one more time and demanded, "Tell me that you love me."

  At that point I wanted to wrap my hands around his neck and squeeze until he was no longer breathing, but I was willing to say anything just to get him to start moving.

  "I love you," I breathed out. Sadly, I wasn't lying. This man owned my heart even if he would never let me touch his.

  Soft laughter and then a slow thrust of his hips. "I'm sorry, I don't think I heard you."

  Gritting my teeth, I clenched my fingers into the blankets. I was going to kill him as soon as he let me free. "I love you," I said louder, intentionally turning my face toward the camera just so he could get every detail on film.

  His teeth nipped at my ear. "Tell me that I own you."

  Drawing in a shaky breath, I imagined ripping his balls from his body. "You own me," I grit out, not wanting to admit to myself that it was true.

  "Ah, my sweet, sweet Emma. That's exactly what I wanted to hear."

  There was no talking after that point, no thinking, or breathing or denying him. Ethan tightened the belt at my neck and slammed his cock inside me, his thumb exploring my ass and his hips thrusting as he forced me over ecstasy’s sensuous edge one more time.

  EMMA

  Is it wrong to enjoy the pain? Emotional. Physical. Spiritual. It didn't matter. I was willing to endure it all just to luxuriate in the exhilarating shadow of Ethan's seductively dark mind.

  The night stretched on through the early morning hours, but I wasn't given the chance to fall asleep, wasn't granted even an hour to catch my breath and prepare for the next sensuous assault.

  He was a maelstrom of sensuality, a grenade going off now that I'd been the one to pull the pin. Pushing me high
and dragging me to the lowest of lows, Ethan teased and tormented, praised and punished, without ever giving me enough of a break to gather my bearings.

  When he was finished having his fun with me bound and helpless, he untethered my hands to lay me on my back, taking what he wanted before shifting us again so I could ride on top. I wasn't sure when the camera had finally run out of film, but it wasn't until I was helpless to my exhaustion that he finally let me sleep.

  Waking up the next morning, I didn't immediately open my eyes because I preferred to spend those first few minutes of consciousness to enjoy the ache in my body. It felt like he'd been everywhere, tasted everything, had stripped me bare only to rebuild me all over again. I knew he wasn't in bed next to me, but yet his scent still held me captive, the tingle of my body reacting despite how tired I should have been.

  Desirous wasn't a strong enough word for how he made me feel. Insatiable...maybe.

  He was right about one thing, I realized: I was a stupid woman.

  Finally blinking my eyes open against the low lighting in the room, I sat up in bed and turned to see the camera had been removed. Wondering if he'd actually filmed our evening, or if it had been another trick on his part, I threw the blankets off me and dropped my feet to the floor. Everything ached, but the ache felt so damn good.

  It took three attempts to push to my feet, but eventually I was stumbling through his room into the bathroom. After tending to nature's call, I used my finger to scrub toothpaste over my teeth and then stole another t-shirt from Ethan's bureau. Padding barefoot across his floor, I pressed my ear to his door to see if I could hear anybody with him. No sound filtered through the wood, and I opened it to peek out.

  Ethan sat behind his computer with headphones over his ears and his eyes focused on the screen.

  Walking out, I waited for him to see me and pull the headphones from his ears. They wrapped across the back of his neck as he smiled in greeting. "Morning," he purred, a taunting edge to the word. "They brought you some breakfast. It's on the dining room table."

 

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