Written in the Stars: A Contemporary Hollywood Romance

by Renea Mason

  I leaned against one of the posts and stretched my arms behind my back and grasped one of the ivy loops with both hands. "So, you're saying that if I were here, bound and at your mercy, very much like this, you'd take the opportunity to see how much desire you could make me feel?"

  He stalked toward me. "Yes."

  I raised a curious brow and asked in my most sultry voice, "What if I resisted?"

  Inches from my face, he breathed, "Mmm...You always do. Maybe not physically, but I'd handle you in much the same way I already have. I'd wear you down until you come to your senses."

  I squeezed the iron between my fingers and tugged my bottom lip between my teeth. My offer—invisible bondage and willful surrender. I watched him case my body with his eyes. "And what does that look like, Mr. Sinclair? What does sensible me look like in your mind?"

  He pinned me, pressing my arms tight against the bedpost. "Let me think for a moment." He reached around to where my hands held onto the ironwork and grabbed my wrists, holding me in place.

  An appreciation for his height, size, and hard muscles fueled my desire. There was so much about this man to discover. Our play had only begun to whet my appetite.

  In a deep, husky voice, his whispered, as though the words were our secret, "I imagine, a sensible you would have small bruises in the shape of my fingerprints on your hips, your hair in knots, my cum on your tits, in your pussy, in your ass, in your mouth. My lips would mar your neck with soft purple shadows, but what sensible you would look like is only so important." He grasped my chin and tilted my head back, exposing my throat, pressing the back of my head against the iron. "Ask me what it would feel like." His teeth nipped the soft flesh below my ear.

  Holy fuck! I swallowed hard and licked my lips. "What…," I panted as his erection rubbed against my center with a tantalizing swirl of his hips. "What would a sensible me feel like?"

  His lips sucked the skin, coaxing blood to the surface, the start of his possession. "It would feel like you're mine."

  He released my chin and shoved his hand down the front of my pants.

  With the first graze of his fingers over my sex, I moaned.

  "Give yourself to me, Katherine." The tip of one finger threatened to enter me, but he paused, awaiting my response.

  I couldn't make it easy for him. He confessed my obstinance thrilled him. If he wanted to play, I'd make it worth it. With a sexy smirk on my face, I pressed my pelvis against his hand. "No."

  He leaned back and searched my eyes, confusion lacing his features. "What did you say?"

  "You asked if I'd give myself to you. I said, 'no.' I take it that's not a word you hear often if the expression on your face is any indication." I allowed the moment to linger so I could savor the baffled look on his face. He started the game and needed to understand I played to win. "I mean… the sensible thing would be to say yes, but after hearing your persuasion methods, I seem to have lost all sense."

  "Oh, you naughty girl. What I wouldn't give for a soft hemp rope or a spool of silk ribbon right now."

  "Sounds like we need to go shopping."

  He raised an eyebrow. "We'll make a list and send Grace. Can you imagine if we got caught in a sex shop?"

  It was time to see if I knew him as well as I thought I did. "Oh, I can imagine. It would be all over the news, every salacious detail. You'd finally live up to your reputation. Sounds like exactly the thing an exhibitionist would get off on."

  He nuzzled my neck, his nose tickling my skin. "Hmm… you might be right. We should save that little excursion for the next time the press cycle goes sideways. You can help me take command of the narrative." A soft purr rumbled in his chest. "Mmm... Perhaps, while we're there, you could try on some of their strappy leather harness lingerie, and I could lose all control with the cameras snapping away." His mouth covered mine in a sensual kiss. His palm cupped my breast.

  I relaxed against his touch, hand still firmly secured. It occurred to me that I was at a disadvantage. He knew what dirty scenarios my mind was capable of, but I knew very little about his desires. I would make it my mission to hear every one. "That's quite the fantasy, Mr. Sinclair. One of these days, I'll make you confess them all to me. I wonder what you'd do if I took control? You know I can. It's one of the reasons I intrigued you, isn't it? You saw the possibility in the pages of my books. The fact that I like to give as well as get fascinated you, didn't it?"

  He pressed his erection against me harder. "Yes. Our time on the plane intrigued me. You were beautiful, witty, and so easy to talk to, but then I read your words, and I couldn't stop thinking about the possibilities of what we could have together. So many of the scenarios you wrote parallel my own desires. I knew we'd be perfect together." He grasped the hem of my shirt, preparing to lift, but my secured hands created an obstacle. "You have my permission to let go of the bed, but just long enough for me to strip you naked, then I want you back in this position."

  I complied, lifting my arms into the air.

  He shimmied my pants and underwear down my legs until I stood naked, submissive, and aching for his touch. No longer touching me, he began the slow process of taking off his own clothes. His movements were a slow and seductive striptease, giving me time to appreciate how beautiful he really was.

  We'd made love, I had seen him naked, but in the sunlight glinting through the windows, he was more than a man, he was a work of art. More importantly, he was mine; all of him, his chiseled chest, narrow hips, tight rounded ass, gorgeous face, and his perfect cock. Moisture pooled between my thighs. I wanted him to fuck me. I wanted this feeling to last.

  "How wet are you, Katherine?"

  "Very."

  He sauntered toward me, his erect cock bobbing with each step. The fingers of one hand laced through my hair, wrapping the strands around his fist, before wrenching my head back against the bedpost.

  I stared up into his eyes. His predatory gaze sent a delicious shiver down my spine.

  "I wanted to torture you, to bring you to the edge of ecstasy and then make you wait, but I can't. I need you too much. Let go of the bed. On your knees."

  I loved trying his patience. Having him overcome by desire was the ultimate aphrodisiac. My eyes never left his as I knelt on the floor in front of him. I pulled against his hold on my hair and stretched my tongue out to lick the precum beading on the tip of his cock.

  He shook his head. "No, you naughty girl. I have something else in mind." He yanked gently on my hair, coaxing me to crawl away from the bed and onto a plush area rug. "As much as I want to play, I want to fuck you. I need to fuck you."

  "Yes," I all but moaned. Leaning forward on my hands, I angled my ass in the air and waited.

  He released my hair and stood, taking in my offering. "God, you are so beautiful. The way your ass is waiting for me to take it, your pussy dripping wet. These full round cheeks beg to be spanked." As he spoke the final word, he slapped my ass.

  I gasped from the unexpected impact but couldn't wait for him to do it again.

  "Katherine, the way your back arches…" He trailed his fingers along the curve of my spine. He knelt beside me and whispered in my ear, "Beyond your body, do you know what's most delicious?"

  "No, what?"

  "You refused to give yourself to me earlier, but look at you now. Wanton. Waiting. Tell me, Katherine, do you want me to fuck you?"

  The word erupted on a moan, "Yes."

  "I have this fantasy of coming home from a long movie shoot and walking in the door to find you just like this. No, 'hello.' No, 'how was your trip?' A simple offering of what's mine and only mine. Would you do that for me, Katherine?"

  God, the idea had me so keyed up, and we hadn't really started. I needed him. "Yes, Mr. Sinclair." The raspy groan rattling his chest made my knees shake.

  "Better yet, you surprise me at the studio, and I open my dressing room door to find you like this. I'd make you scream so loud the entire lot would hear you." The heat of him curling around me as he kissed the sm
all of my back caused a shiver to roll up my spine. "How did I get so lucky?" His fingertips drifted between my legs and caressed my soaked flesh. Before I could savor the sensation, he plunged two fingers into me then continued fucking them in and out of me in rapid succession.

  "Fuck, Lachlan. So good." I dug my fingers into the carpet as he hand drove me toward my first orgasm. The sounds of his hand smacking against my wet skin coaxed more desire from within.

  "Goddamn, you're fucking soaked. You smell so good."

  I couldn't concentrate on his words, too consumed by the feel of his long, invading digits. I pressed my pelvis back onto his hand harder, arched my back further, and clawed my fingers into the carpet fiber to try to hold on. A cloud of bliss-filled my head and a sound somewhere between a scream and moan escaped my lips. My muscles clamped down on his fingers as I came harder than I could ever remember.

  "Fuck, Katherine. That's it. Keep going. Good girl." His rhythm never hesitated, allowing me to savor every wave of ecstasy.

  As soon as my breathing slowed, he removed his hand from inside me. Gathering the moisture between my legs with his hand, he painted his fingertips over my shoulder.

  In the back of my mind, I wondered what he was doing, but I was too blissed out to care. Before I could consider anything else, he slammed his cock inside me.

  I groaned, feeling him bottom out in this position. His rough, deep thrusts forced gasps from my lips. God, he could fuck. His fingers gripped my hips, forcing me back against his hard penetration. I had never felt anything so arousing. He was feral, demanding. So fucking hot.

  "God, Lachlan. So fucking good."

  "You have no idea. I wanted to stick my head between your legs and devour your orgasm because you smell so good. But one look at your swollen, dripping pussy, and I had to be inside you. That's why I did this…"

  With all his weight, he forced me onto the floor. His cock still plunging and retreating hard and deep. His arms wrapped around my shoulders, clutching me to him while I lay pinned beneath his eager body. He sucked on my shoulder, licking where he'd painted my skin with my juices.

  The erotic thought brought me closer to orgasm, and I jolted under him unexpectedly when his cock slammed against my cervix. "Fuck."

  "That's right, Katherine, feel how deep inside you I am. You can't move. You can't help but be fucked by me. And when I come, I'm going to bury myself inside you as far as I can go then pump you full of my cum. Tell me, Katherine. Tell me you want me to come inside you?"

  God, did I ever. "Please…"

  "Please, who?"

  "Please, Mr. Sinclair."

  "What do you want me to do, love?"

  "Come inside me, please, Mr. Sinclair."

  He kissed my neck. "Such a good girl. You're getting tighter. I want you to come with me. Make me gush inside you. I want you to feel my cum leaking out of you tomorrow. Tell me who you belong to, and I'll give us both what we want."

  The first wave of euphoria began to crest. Words were hard to muster. "Fuck. You. I belong to you. Only you."

  "Good girl. Now, I'm going to fill you up." His hips slammed against my ass, forcing his cock through my squeezing muscle. He groaned, deep and guttural, next to my ear, fueled another wave of ecstasy. The warmth of his release spread inside, lubricating his slow thrusts.

  He peppered kisses over my back and shoulders. His hips stilled, and he buried his cock deeper in me, allowing the spasms from my climax to milk the final remnants of his. "I love you so much. I've had lots of sex, Katherine, but nothing like this. I swear I'll move in a moment, but my bones feel like they turned to jelly."

  I chuckled. "Take your time. I like feeling you like this."

  "Pinned under me, my cock buried in you?"

  "Yes. I love it."

  "I love this too. You're all mine."

  "Yes."

  "I suppose I should free you and help you clean up before dinner." He rose to his knees, slipping out of me.

  I rolled onto my side, and he scooped his arms.

  He combed his fingers through my hair. "Sometimes it's hard to believe you're real."

  I smiled. "I know the feeling."

  "Come on. I'll give you a working tour of the bathroom." He helped me to my feet.

  The next morning, we woke to the buzzing of his phone. It had been a long night; another round of sex in the pool and a middle-of-the-night hard-on left us both exhausted. He groaned and answered the shrill device. "Yes. OK. Does it change anything? OK. I appreciate it. I didn't think it would be easy. Thanks."

  He hung up the phone and rolled back toward me, tucking his muscled arms around my waist.

  I noted the concern hiding behind his smile. "Everything OK?"

  His lips pressed against my forehead. "Of course. They were hoping to have a confession from the brother by now, but he's lawyered up. They said it was anticipated, so nothing has really changed." He squeezed me in a quick hug before hopping out of bed.

  I pulled the covers up to my chest and took in his magnificent body.

  He turned to see me staring. "What?"

  "You're gorgeous. I was appreciating you."

  Walking to my side of the bed, he bent and kissed me. "I think you showed your appreciation last night. I do have to hit the gym this morning, while your team readies you for tonight. They should be here in about thirty minutes."

  "Shit, I better go take a shower."

  He spread his palm over my chest and eased me back down onto the bed. A mischievous grin curled his lips. "They will take care of everything."

  "Lachlan, I smell like sex. Lots of sex."

  "You smell like me."

  "Your cum. That's what I smell like."

  "Are you afraid they'll know we had sex? Because the whole world will assume that tonight, and they won't be wrong."

  "No," I scoffed. "I'm not worried about them knowing. It's more the confirmation."

  He pulled back the covers, exposing my naked body and ran his fingers along the light bruises on my hips. "I think they are going to know regardless. Are you ashamed of being mine?"

  I reached up, tightening my fingers around his forearms, and pulled him to me. "Never." My lips met his in a passionate kiss.

  "Just remember that when you're being tortured today."

  13

  Ceremony

  I met with stylists, had dress fittings and alterations, then talked to PR reps and coaches. Afterward, came the steam room, facials, massages, followed by hair, makeup, a pedicure, and a manicure—fashion on parade. To say it was overwhelming was a vast understatement.

  Lachlan checked in with me every few hours. The last time he emerged into my makeshift dressing room, his mouth fell open around a huge smile, and his eyes opened to the size of saucers. "Wow." He drank me in for a moment then cleared his throat. "You are always beautiful, but I never realized how many facets of beauty you possessed. I'm the luckiest man."

  "Always the charmer. You're just saying that because you heard me scream during the waxing."

  He pressed his lips to mine. "Screaming? I heard no such thing." His hand drifted up the inside of my thigh. "But you do have me curious about where said waxing may have occurred."

  Before I could protest, Esme, the makeup artist, swatted his hand away. "You. No more kissing. No touching. You'll ruin everything."

  He stuck out his bottom lip. "But…"

  The tall, dark-haired woman stepped into his personal space, shielding Lachlan from mauling me. "No. You go. You can mess her up after the show."

  "But…" he stammered.

  "Go," the woman demanded.

  He darted around her, kissing me quickly on the lips. "Love you." He turned and ran for the door before she scolded him anymore.

  I chuckled. "Love you too."

  Esme mumbled something under her breath before turning back to me. "Now, where were we."

  In the back of the limo, Lachlan squeezed my hand. "Thank you for this."

  "There's nowhere else I'd rath
er be." I hoped he could read the sincerity in my eyes.

  His lips ghosted over the shell of my ear as he whispered, "Come now, that's not true. Wouldn't you rather us be naked, back home in bed, me buried inside you?"

  "You're playing a dangerous game, Mr. Sinclair. We have at least six solid hours before we can think of sneaking away."

  A low growl echoed in his throat. "Call me that again, and I might just shag you here and say to hell with the ceremony."

  "Behave."

  He nuzzled his nose in the crook of my neck. "I'll try, but I'm making no promises."

  The limo pulled in front of the hall. Hordes of people crowded around both sides of a regal red carpet, stretching from the car to the hall door. Photographers in tuxedos nudged aside bystanders to get the most prized celebrity shot. Lachlan's manager and publicist approached the limo and waited for him to climb out of the car.

  He grabbed my hand as the attendant opened the door. "Follow my lead."

  For the next hour and a half, I had a smile plastered to my face, and Lachlan never let go of my hand. He indulged the reporters with short interviews, signed autographs from star-struck fans, and mingled with other big-name actors. Through all the bustle, he kept me close to his side and introduced me as his.

  "How does it feel to be nominated tonight?" A tall, leggy blonde asked then pushed the microphone toward Lachlan.

  "It feels wonderful. This film took me out of my comfort zone and allowed me to show what I'm capable of as an actor."

  A sudden wave of guilt rushed through me. I hadn't watched the movie. I didn't know what he was capable of. Our relationship had developed at lightning speed, and I hadn't even had time to learn who he was professionally.

  "But the thing I'm most thankful for tonight." He raised our combined hands to kiss my knuckles."Is I have someone to share my success with now."