Chapter 30 Elle
Elle
Itake a huge gulp of water as I lean against the breakfast bar in my trailer. Then another. But they don’t make me feel better. They don’t cool me down the way I need, because I’m on fire, and water won’t do the trick.
It was the eye contact exercise that was my undoing.
Lying there with Josh like we used to.
Staring into his eyes unashamedly.
Re-learning him.
Memorising him.
It was supposed to make us feel close. Connected.
It fucking worked.
And then, when the cameras rolled, and we began to move, it was too much.
The lines were blurring, and I was powerless to stop them.
Josh already looks far too gorgeous as Dominic.
I’m already sold on him. But this wasn’t about Dominic.
It was about Josh, and it was about the fact that no amount of sensitive, informed assistance from Kate could stop this from being obscenely triggering for me. And for him too, it would seem.
It wasn’t a stretch to act Georgiana’s apprehension as the scene opened, and it wasn’t a stretch to act her unfolding around Dominic like a flower as they moved together.
I just channeled my nerves and hostility and fear of acting out such an intimate scene with him after blowing up at him the other night, and I channeled the mounting sense of pure pleasure I got from being under him, pinned down by him on a bed, consumed by him as he writhed on top of me in all his incredible, golden, practically naked glory.
Most of all, that eye-contact exercise had opened the floodgates, so it felt much more natural to hold his gaze as he pretended to take me.
I took my cues from him: the camera was on me, but the desire building in his eyes made me feel I wasn’t alone as I let my face show not only what Georgiana was supposed to feel, but everything I wasn’t supposed to feel on a set with cameras rolling and an ex I despised moving on top of me.
Grinding his body against mine in a way that set of flashes of muscle memory like fireworks.
Nipping at my bottom lip and stroking my hair as if he’d never forgotten how to touch me.
Telling Georgiana she was perfect, in a voice thick with need, when it really felt like he was telling me.
He cast me aside five years ago, and I’ve never felt so powerless. But when I looked up at him just now, he was the one out of control.
Shit. What a mess.
There’s a knock at the door. Hopefully Parka Pete with a cuppa. But when I open it, Josh is standing there in his robe. There’s a mug in his hand and utter anguish on his face.
‘Can I come in?’ He looks quickly to both sides. ‘I want to... apologise. I told Pete I’d give you this.’ He holds up the mug.
I blink. ‘Of course. Come in.’
I stand back to let him through, and my trailer seems to shrink as his size fills it up.
He sets the mug down on the table and turns to me, going to rake his hand through his Dominic hair-do before stopping himself. He stares down at me and comes a step closer.
‘Elle, I am so sorry. Oh my God, I am fucking mortified—I’m furious with myself.’
‘It’s okay. I—’
‘No, it’s not okay. I wanted to treat you with respect, and then I get a fucking hard-on during a scene I know was already excruciating for you. It’s fucked up, is what it is.’
Something has shifted between us these past few days. For whatever reason, he seems to be struggling to handle his feelings for me, and it’s reassuring. Despite what he did to me five years ago, right now, he’s as vulnerable as I am. As exposed.
I look up into his brown eyes and see pain and a whole lot of need. He is so gorgeous it’s ridiculous. So beautiful, it shouldn’t be allowed. He’s chewing his lip. I run my eyes down his sideburns and over that jaw, currently tense with frustration.
And I make a decision.
I put my hand on his chest, over his robe. Jesus, his poor heart is hammering.
And I smile at him. ‘I had a hard-on, too.’
His eyes widen, and he lets go of his lip. His expression is absolutely bloody priceless as he clocks what I’m saying.
‘Josh.’ My hand slides upwards to his neck and curls in under his robe. ‘We have twenty-five minutes. Any ideas on how we can make each other feel better, so we don’t disgrace ourselves when we go back in there?’
He’s shaking. ‘God, Elle—oh my God. Fuck. Are you serious?’
I look up at him through my eyelashes. ‘Deadly. Just… don’t mess up my hair or my corset. I’d rather not give Wardrobe anything to talk about.’ I’m smiling at him still, enjoying this total head-fuck he’s clearly having. I cock my head. ‘Think you can do that for me?’
His hands come to the sides of my neck and slide under the lapel of my robe.
‘Are you positive you’ll be okay with this? I just want to make sure.’ He’s already stroking down my neck, grazing his thumbs over my collarbone. He licks his lips.
‘Don’t give me that, Josh. I’m a big girl, and I know what I want. Besides, you’re in a far worse state than me right now.’
I’m actually as desperate as he is for release, but he doesn’t need to know that. One of the benefits of not having a dick: I can hide my arousal better than he can.
He closes his eyes briefly before they sear into mine, and he drags his thumb along my jaw. ‘Tell me what you want, baby. Fuck—I’ll give you anything you want. Anything.’
I want to feel as though I’m the only woman in the world who exists for you in this moment.
I want everything you’ve got to give.
I stare at his mouth. ‘I want you to take charge.’ I pause. ‘I want you to stay in character.’
I’m rewarded with a dirty grin as his beautiful mouth curves up. ‘That I can do. I’m so fucking jealous of Dom, anyways.’
I sigh and arch my back, anticipation building and sending goosebumps down my body. I watch his eyes on my lips as I annunciate, just so he’s clear. ‘I am so. Fucking. Jealous. Of Georgiana. Your Grace.’
That undoes him. He grabs me around the waist and yanks me to him, and his other hand comes to the back of my neck as he smashes his lips against mine. Thank God. Thank God. I part for him and his tongue drives into my mouth, thick and taut.
Oh God, it feels too good to have him inside my mouth, the outrageous hardness of his huge body pressed against me, the full rigid length of his erection against my stomach.
I slide my hands over those glorious shoulders and grip as hard as I can as he finds my tongue and takes it prisoner with his.
He’s unleashed, and I’m the focus of his desperation, and it’s fucking fabulous.
He pulls away and tugs blindly at the cord of my robe so it falls open.
I took off the ridiculous Shibue thingy so I could pee when I got back here, and stuck a pair of my own knickers on instead, but aside from those, I’m just in my half-corset, which stops a few inches south of my boobs, and my white silk stockings, held up with garters.
From the look on Josh’s face, you’d think he hadn’t just spent most of the day staring at some version of this exact outfit.
He swallows and runs his fingers across my stomach, sending delicious flutters south. His eyes feast on my boobs, which are so trussed up by the corset that it’s slightly obscene.
‘I wish to sample the delights of my new wife.’ His voice is low and thick with desire.
Oh, Jesus. This is so hot. I’ve got Josh-Lander-as-Dominic-Coventry, hottest combination womankind could ever cook up, in my trailer, in all his side-burned glory, complete with British accent and commanding demeanour. This guy is going to get everything he wishes, and then some.
I should probably stay in character, too.
‘As you wish, Your Grace.’
I stand there and let him take charge, as I asked him to.
He slides my robe off and chucks it across the room before turning his attention to my anachronistic knickers. He hooks his thumbs into them and slides them down, too. I step out of them and stare up at him.
‘Better.’ He nods curtly as he takes in the sight of me in just my corset and stockings, but I see the truth in his eyes. This man is completely entranced.
‘Up on the table.’
He puts his hands on my hips and guides me backwards to the table.
I scoot up so I’m sitting on the edge and watch Josh.
He unties his robe and throws it off as I shamelessly drool over his body.
Obviously, I’ve been in a state of undress with him for the past few hours, but now I’ve got him to myself, I can enjoy the view properly.
And what a view! His beautiful, beautiful skin is tanned and velvety.
There’s the smattering of hair on his chest that I used to love burying my face in.
He’s in amazing shape these days: clean living agrees with him.
His stomach is flat and perfectly defined, and a soft trail of golden-brown hair intersects his Adonis belt and disappears into the waistband of his pants.
He’s done what I’ve done: replaced his modesty pouch with some grey boxers.
There’s a huge, hard bulge in the front, as well as a wet spot near the top.
I feast my eyes on him as he tugs them down and steps out of them.
I’d like to say I’ve forgotten how huge and gorgeous his dick is, but it would be more accurate to say my years of therapy and denial have been totally unsuccessful, because I can honestly say, as I sit there half-naked and gawp at him fisting it at the root, there is no one like Josh Lander.
He comes closer, his dick in his hand, and I shift on the table, opening my legs to make room for him. He tips my face up with his other hand and I take in the heat in his eyes as he rubs his wet tip between my legs.
‘What do you think of your husband?’ he growls against my mouth.
Presumably Georgiana wouldn’t speak like a hooker, so I swallow my true thoughts about my ‘husband’ as I push myself against him as much as I can in this position.
‘You’re magnificent, Your Grace.’ I lean into him and lick his bottom lip. ‘I’m worried you’ll be too big for me.’
‘We’ll fit perfectly,’ he tells me. ‘I’ll be gentle.’