by Nicole Snow
I nod. “Good girl,” he says. It's a phrase Miles says a lot throughout the film during the bondage scenes, but it's all too fitting here.
His hips fall back, and then they come forward, colliding with mine. It's not a moan coming out of me when he's finally in.
More like a whimper running on pure adrenaline, years of deprivation obliterated in one thrust.
Luke fucks into me with a manic energy. It's a friction I've missed, nasty and real, his hips pummeling mine so hard every time my butt slams into the wall.
It's sex, no holds barred. My legs shift open wider. His hands wander, lower down my sides, until his fingers dig into my ass so hard it's bound to leave bruises.
I do my fair share of damage, too. My fingernails scratch, raking his arms, needling the wild ink stamped on him like a warning.
Consider every last warning ignored, now that we're skin-on-skin. His eyes drill into mine, and I meet his gaze, holding my eyes open when pleasure tries to force them shut.
“Harder,” I pant. Yes, I'm aware I'm asking for fire, but it's been so cold for so fucking long, I don't even care.
Luke brings one hand up, grabbing me by the throat. He holds it there gently, just like our very first night, a reminder he's always been savior and destroyer in equal measure.
It takes my pussy several minutes just to get used to accommodating his big cock again. It's been years since a man stretched me like this. But my cunt opens willingly, more every time he thrusts his passion to the hilt, taking the hot pink flesh that's always been his, and his alone.
Fucking other men after him did nothing except teach me disappointment. Now, my master is back. The man who's always owned my body, down to the chemical level.
This isn't Ali running her lines, spitting make believe phrases like master, sir, or please. It's me, Robin, and everything we're doing is real.
The walls shake when he picks up speed, bringing his hips into me faster. He's grunting when his forehead touches mine, warm with a sheen of sweat. We're fucking eye-to-eye, and if the friction sending my pussy into flames doesn't send me over the edge alone, his look does.
“Come for me, babe,” he says, his eyes growing brighter blue with every word. “Come. Need you to remember what it's like to be sore.”
I'm drowning in his dense blue gaze when my eyes start rolling, and then I'm seeing nothing but stars. My pussy hugs his bare cock so tight I think I'm going to pass out. Orgasm carries me to heaven, and he fucks me straight through it.
It's a machine sculpted like a man doing the fucking, hammering his cock into me, and I'm his willing receptacle. My fingers clench his shoulders for dear life, and I realize I'm screaming halfway through it.
“Oh, Luke – fuck!”
He silences me with another kiss, growling his pleasure into my mouth. It's the only time his cock slows when I'm coming down from the bliss, trying to find my balance again, ready to take his thrusts as long as necessary before he goes crashing over with me.
“There's my little bird,” he says through several thrusts. I'm in a half-moan when he pulls out of me, and I think I give him the most hateful look of my life. He smiles. “Now that you've found your wings again, I want to take you straight into the storm. Turn around, and put your hands over your head.”
I don't hesitate more than a second before I obey. One O alone won't satisfy the rampant itch deep inside me. I think I'd do the unspeakable right now to have him back inside me, finishing what we've begun.
Luke takes my wrists in one hand as soon as they're over my head, holding them together in his iron grip. His cock's head flicks against my pussy lips before he shoves it in, making me gasp.
“One,” he rumbles, right before his hand crashes against my ass.
I whimper, jerk, and flatten myself against the wall. It's sudden, unexpected, and stings like hell. But damn if it doesn't make my pussy burn hotter when he pins me down, grinding his cock into me, blowing warm breath against my neck to complete the full body burn he's intent on bringing.
“What the hell was that?” I ask, while I can still get it out, before pleasure makes it impossible.
“I had your sweet little ass owned on the set. Now I want it off the clock, Robbi. I want it for real. Want to fuck and spank you so hard the last five years without me are nothing but a bad memory.”
He's a bastard, using a bastard's logic. An irrational spark runs through my blood when I wonder how many times I'll come while his palm cracks across my ass.
Yes, I'm a slut for his crude, threatening style.
I was his virgin once, wasn't I? Hard to believe I'm becoming his willing whore, one violent O at a time.
I'm ready now, I tell myself. Do your worst, Lucus Shaw.
Sex can't fix everything that went haywire. I'm not even sure it's fixing it now, even though I'm enjoying the hell out of having him inside me, his abs crashing into my ass, every merciless thrust carrying me a little closer to completion, closer to him giving it up.
“Two.” It comes out between his teeth in an angry rush. His palm crashes down across my right cheek, and he wastes no time moving to the left, tanning both with the same sharp force. “Three! How you holding up, baby girl? You high on it yet?”
High? I don't know where the fuck I am. I'm leaving my body and then some, drifting into a new kind of ecstasy at a frightening pace. My hips just know they need more. So they tilt back into him while I push my hands against the wall.
“God. Don't. Stop.” I whisper the three words I manage to get out, wondering if he can hear them.
The wall shakes more with our thrusts, harder because I'm leaning into it. These cheap dividers thrown up by the studio really are crap. I have a flash of the embarrassment we'll never live down if the entire thing caves in while we're naked like this.
But when he brings the fourth strike down on my ass, I don't care if our sex gets broadcast to the entire world. “Shit, yes!”
I'm screaming. I'm on the verge. Blood roars so thick and hot through my ears I don't even hear it when he yells out four!
“With me this time,” I whimper, closing my eyes as his cock slows its thrusts to a delicious grind. “Please, Luke. With me.”
“I've never seen a woman jonesing so hard for my come. You'd better not be fucking around,” he says, fisting my hair into a ponytail, pulling it tight so my ear comes to his lips. “I'm coming soon, Robbi, whenever you give me another O. If you think I was playing back there on the set, pretending I wanted to give Ali a baby, think again. One of these days, I will knock you up, and you'll beg for it.”
My ovaries blaze so numb with heat I can't feel them anymore. “Please!” I'm begging, and it's far more crazed than anything Pierce or Isabella Frieze ever wrote for Bare.
I'm not going to get more specific. I'll let him read the notes in my plea when I start to chant it, until he fucks me so hard I can't.
“Please, please, please, Luke. Please.”
My ass shifts into him, my pussy more desperate by the second, eager to wring every drop of magma hot seed from his balls. The asshole never gives up control.
He slows his strokes, just enough to bring me to the edge, leaving my legs a shaking mess. I'm too deep in the zone to even squeak another plea.
“Robbi?” He pulls my face to his by the hair, breathing heavy. “Before we come together, there's something you forgot.”
I remember just as his palm sweeps over my ass, shattering the calm on both cheeks. Five.
Five strokes of lightning for five years apart.
And then a dozen thrusts, his cock digging into me so hard it lifts me up, slams me into the wall, and carries me to paradise.
Coming! Sweet surrender, down to my soul. Every part of me comes swiftly, comes hard, comes apart on his take-no-prisoners thrusts.
My pussy takes every stroke he gives, coiling tighter around his length harder every time, leaving me breathless. Muscles turn to stone, spasm, and find their delicious release. The fierce blows he delive
red hurt at the time, but now they've brought me something else.
A warmth surrounds me. It's like my whole body glows as I sink in scalding ecstasy, lost in him, this time, never coming back.
I'm not alone in my rapture. A second later, Luke tenses, throws himself into me one more time, and holds his cock deep in my twitching walls as he swells. “Fucking hell! Yeah, baby, yeah.”
Yeah. Every syllable comes with a sharper intensity. He's been holding it as long as me, for five hellish years, and now it's coming out.
He holds me down, jerks my hair in his fist, grunting as he comes ropes into me. This is what it's like to be filled with fire, another first for a girl who's never had a man without a condom before.
Call me addicted. My mouth hangs open in a lonely, shaking O while the same rough pleasure courses through us.
We're joined. Fused. Slaves to the flesh, the seed, the lightning rending our muscles to steel.
I don't know when the fever breaks. Probably after him because his grip eventually loosens. I have just enough energy to turn around, falling forward into his arms.
His lips brush mine with a sweeter, softer power like a fire down to its embers, always threatening to start again. His hands kiss my skin while his lips are busy, reaching to my backside. He rubs my ass, gentle as Miles Black in the aftercare scenes from the script, but there's nothing movie-like about it.
This is real life. This is real love. This is the man I've missed, coming home, telling me with more than just words he isn't ever leaving again.
“Love you, Robbi. Never stopped once in all these years.”
I press my face to his chest, looking up, loving the soft mischief in his eyes when they're calmer, but no less intense. “I love you, too. Were you serious about what you said in the moment? About knocking me up?”
He smiles. “Someday, little bird. We've got our whole lives ahead, now that everything's right with the world.”
Is it?
Mom's furious expression runs through my mind. I'll catch hell if, and when, she finds out there's more between Luke and me than work. Especially when I swore up and down it was just professional.
“What's wrong? Talk to me.” He runs his thumb gently along my cheek, reading me with a keen insight nobody else will ever have.
“There are still some things I have to take care of before it's smooth sailing. Nothing that can't be fixed with time.” I stop to lean on my toes, planting another kiss on his lips. “We're on the right path, Luke, thanks to you.”
“Good. Glad you're following my lead again because I think it's past time we got the hell out of here.”
He's right. I don't have to listen hard to hear the production crew walking past, laughing and chattering among themselves as another day on the set wraps up, one more reminder how thin these walls can be.
“Your place, or mine?” I say, gathering my clothes.
“Mine. Got it a little while longer before we're done with Chicago and they want us back in L.A. for wrap up. I'd like us to give the bed in the place I'm staying a work out it'll remember.”
Yes, sir. I'm humming to myself as I wash up, fix my regular makeup, and walk out with him. It isn't a perfect look by any means, but it's enough to hide the sex crazed mess we'd become just minutes ago.
We're in the parking lot, heading to our cars, when I decide to take his arm. He walks me to my vehicle and makes sure I'm inside it with a smile on my face before he heads for his.
It's been an eternity since I felt right. Now, I finally do.
If the rest of the world will just stay out of our way, we'll find our shortcut through the ugliness, the hurt, the turmoil that's drowned out our happiness for far too long.
No, it won't be easy. But as long as I'm sharing Luke's bed, his arm, and his patented smirk, we'll make it across the finish line to the future we deserve, baby fever and all.
10
Spent (Luke)
My eyes are so bloodshot from the sleepless nights I need the makeup people to work their finest magic the rest of the week. Every last bit of extra effort is worth it.
My baby's back, and we haven't lost a spare hour making up for all the sex we've missed. I fuck her late into the morning, catching a few hours of sleep in between the next round.
In my bed, in the shower, in front of the glass overlooking the balcony that's got a direct view of my brother's tower. Hell, even on the kitchen counter. I'd take her outside, too, if I didn't have to risk Hayds or his girl seeing us with the telescope I know he keeps at his penthouse for the skyline view. He'd give me shit forever.
At work, I'm shooting the scenes where the Senator's goons catch me off guard, throw a hood over my head, and push me into his private plane. Harkness leans over me, giving his best evil villain sneer as he says Bluhd's catch phrase. “You really should've taken the fucking bribe, Mr. Black. You could've walked away with a lot of loot, without risking anything. Now, you've lost it all: your fortune, your girl, and yes, your own life. Congratulations. This time tomorrow, you'll be the world's biggest missing person's case, and Allison will be a mere footnote next to your name. Enjoy your flight.” His boot lands in my ribs. If it wasn't for the stunt safety built-in, it would hurt.
I let out my best agonized scream, faking the pain. Harkness laughs, slamming the heavy metal door in my face.
All is silent until I hear Pierce bellow through his megaphone, calling us to wrap up. “Marvelous, gentleman. That's our third take today, and I think we've got our suspense. Let's call it a day before we shoot Luke's Houdini escape scene back in L.A. I want to allow plenty of time to pack our crap up and start saying our goodbyes to Chicago. We won't be back here unless there's a damned good reason to be.”
Everybody bursts into applause. I'd join them, if my hands weren't cuffed behind my back. There's laughter next to me; a low, distinguished chuckle from a man old enough to be my father.
Harkness opens the door, reaching in to help me out of my hood. He extends a hand before the production crew descends on us for clean up. “You're a Godsend, Aaron,” I tell him, as soon as I'm free.
“Just don't tell my agent, or she'll want an extra piece of my hide next time I'm up for negotiations.” He smiles. I walk with him off the set while the crew swarms in like bees on flowers.
“Don't know how you do it. If I last half as long as you in this biz, still doing films into my sixties, I'll sacrifice a chicken to the Hollywood gods.”
“My good man, you've got a longer career than me ahead. You have one distinct advantage – you're bringing passion. I'm sorry to say I lost my creative spark years ago. Now, it's all about the money. If I were half as rich as what I've heard about your family, I'd have retired ages ago. I'm sad to say ten acres in Beverly Hills and a summer home outside London don't pay for themselves.”
I laugh, surprised the veteran actor is letting me into so much of his world. “You're a hell of a talent, regardless. If you're just here for the money, you could've fooled me.”
“There are things far more important in this world than chasing the next dollars. Fame isn't worth much either.” He looks up, slowing with me when we're approaching our dressing rooms. “I've seen how you look at Ms. Plomb off set, if I may be frank.”
Frank? Is this guy for real? I'm not used to his old world manners. Smiling, I nod. “You may.”
“Coming from a man who made his mistakes when he was your age, please consider giving the girl a ring if it's as serious as it seems. These romances on the set have a terrible way of ending with a whimper over the slightest misunderstanding if there's nothing in place to bind them. If you want her for keeps, I suggest making your move.”
“Uh, thanks for the advice.” Whatever else I signed up for with this erotic thriller crap, I never thought I'd be getting input about my love life from a multiple Oscar winner. “If you ever need a lead on a new agent or any other help, I'm open. Just say the word.”
“Agents are a lot like regrets, I'm afraid. Once you're wed to a
halfway competent one, they're usually there forever.” He smiles knowingly.
I smile back, pretending I know what he's talking about. My phone goes off in my pocket just then, and I grab it, wondering if it's Robbi calling about our plans tonight. She teased me yesterday evening about her trip to the lingerie store downtown. Two can play at surprises, though. My woman has no clue what I've got in store for her as soon as Pierce turns the lights out here tonight.
When I see Jim's name on my screen, I frown. “Speaking of agents...here's mine. It's been good talking, Aaron. Thanks for your wisdom.”
“Likewise.” Harkness retreats to his room with a parting smile and a wink.
Stepping into my own room, I kick the door shut and hold the phone up to my ear. “What's going on, Jim?”
“Five alarm fire! There's some lady who needs to talk to you, and she's more pissed than a bull in Red Square. I almost called security.”
“Shit, slow down. What lady?”
“Says her name's Ericka. At first, I thought she was an overzealous Frieze fan trying to chase down the man who's playing her dream boat. But she's after you, Luke Shaw. Told me she's hanging onto a mountain of dirt that's going on social media if you don't get in touch with her. I'm worried, my man. After we saw what happened with your brother, Hayden, when that crazy broad came after him, we really don't need a repeat. I've seen how this crap in the press works – the wrong hashtag at the right time could torpedo your career!”
Ericka Plomb? I'm thoroughly fucked, if that's the case. It has to be about Robin. I'm silent, unsure how to respond for the next few seconds.
“What do you want me to say?” he's still talking, panicked as ever. “I take it you know what she's talking about? Christ. Do we need a lawyer for this?”
“Take a couple breaths,” I say, maintaining control. It'll take more than dumb threats from Robbi's mom to rile me up. “I know this lady. She used to do business with my dad. I'll handle it. Let me talk to her. Did she leave a number?”