Chapter 4
Chapter Four
V ignette One: The Honeymoon
“I think we should start at the beginning,” Ty suggested once he’d secured her agreement. She nodded and walked toward the desk. She was about to sit down to boot up her computer when he halted her. “Oh no, Gwen. We can hardly write until we’ve laid the groundwork.”
“Groundwork?” Her heart skipped a beat as she knew exactly what groundwork he intended to lay.
“Can you honestly tell me you’d be able to sit at that desk and write when your cunt is dripping wet with need?”
She sucked in a breath and started to deny his words, but he placed a gentle finger against her lips. “Don’t lie,” he said firmly, and her words died in her throat. “Your nipples are rock-hard and poking through that sheer blouse, tormenting me.” He leaned closer. “Your breathing is labored and I can practically hear your heart pounding from here. There’s no need to be nervous. We have all night.”
“It’s still daytime.” She winced at the foolishness of her comment.
“You were the one who wanted to fly all night after the wedding to get here. I’ve been very patient, Gwen, but I’m only human and a man only has one honeymoon.”
He was already assuming the role from her story, but he was definitely taking liberties with the lines and character.
“The bride’s name is Becca,” she said, correcting him in regards to the part she was supposedly playing.
He shook his head. “You and I will always be Ty and Gwen. Make no mistake of that.” He took a step back and smiled. “Take off your blouse. I haven’t seen those gorgeous tits of yours yet.”
She sucked in a nervous breath. In “The Honeymoon”, her character was a virgin who had saved herself for marriage.
Gwen was no virgin, no innocent in the bedroom, and regardless of Ty’s talent as an actor, she knew he wouldn’t be able to pull off the role of a bumbling, nervous groom.
Hell, given the way he was staring at her like a tiger stalking his prey, she got the feeling this honeymoon and the one in her book would be as similar as chocolate and mud.
With shaking hands, she began to undo the buttons of her blouse as he watched. His eyes grew dark with arousal and for a moment, she was struck again by the feeling of being watched by a very large, virile and hungry beast. He remained motionless as she slipped the silky material off her shoulders. She felt naked, despite the cover provided by her lacy bra.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.
“I want to see you too,” she said breathlessly, but he merely grinned and shook his head.
“Not yet. Slip off your skirt.”
She unfastened the button at the waist and slid down the zipper. She was about to push the entire skirt down when he stopped her.
“Wait,” he said. “Turn around. Slide it down nice and slow and look over your shoulder at me as you do so.”
Suddenly she could see the advantages of sleeping with a director. She complied with his request, for the first time in her life feeling sexy, hot, desirable. She kept her eyes on him as she shimmied the material over her hips.
She’d worn a thong underneath and even the small part of her mind that denied wanting this had to admit she’d worn it for him. She saw him suck in a deep breath as her ass was bared to his eyes, only the thin string of the panties covering her.
“The thong, Gwen. Take it and your bra off. I want you naked. Now.”
She started to turn around to face him, but he shook his head. She peeled the panties off torturously slow, delighted by the tenting at the front of his pants.
She’d done that.
She’d made him want her.
The feeling was heady, exciting.
She stepped out of the thong, then reached to unfasten her bra. She was startled when she felt him step closer. He put his arms around her and as she pulled the lacy garment away, he was there to envelop her breasts in his large, strong palms from behind her.
She marveled at the sensitivity of his hot breath against her neck and his rough hands against her delicate flesh. “Are you a virgin, wife?”
Her breathing raced and she struggled to speak. All she could do was shake her head in response.
“No,” he said. “Are you sure?”
She was confused by his question.
Was she supposed to lie?
He’d warned her not to. It was obvious that regardless of his suggestion that they reenact the stories of her book, tonight was not playacting, and they were not the young, bumbling couple from “The Honeymoon”.
“I’m sure,” she whispered.
“Have you ever been tied up in bed?”
She jerked a bit, but his hands on her breasts, gently massaging the pliant flesh, held her firmly in place.
She shook her head.
“Bend over.”
For a moment, her mind revolted against her body’s screaming demands that she do anything and everything this man said. When she failed to move, he released her breasts and pushed her shoulders forward and down.
“Grasp your ankles and stay like that. Don’t move unless I give you permission.”
She did as he asked, her thoughts whirling. She was in serious danger of hyperventilating. Her breathing was harsh, ragged, and he must have sensed her intense anxiety. “Calm down, Gwen. Relax. I won’t hurt you.”
She wanted to snarl at his reassurance. Pain was the least of her worries. She needed him to hurry the hell up. He chuckled at her reaction, and she wondered if he could read her mind.
His hands slowly rubbed over her ass, lightly gripping her hips and pulling her against his clad erection.
Why is he still dressed?
She wanted to yell at him to correct that oversight, but she knew the complaint would fall on deaf ears. He was truly the director of this scene.
She was shocked when after one nudge of his cock against her ass, he stepped back. He replaced his hips with his hands as he dragged them through the slit down to her pussy. She could feel the moisture pooled there, knew she was practically dripping, knew she’d never been wetter.
“Spread your legs apart, but keep your hands around your ankles.”
She struggled to obey, but apparently he wasn’t happy with her attempt. “Farther apart,” he demanded. “I won’t let you fall.”
His tone sent a fresh flood of juice between her thighs, and she realized the error of his thinking. How could she tell him she was falling, falling so deeply into this scene, into his words, that she feared she’d never find her way out again?
He steadied her with his hands upon her waist, and she closed her eyes against the sensations of being completely naked before this man, baring all her assets to his hungry gaze.
His fingers returned to her pussy and he used her juices to toy with her clit, his touches too light, too torturously soft. She struggled to push against him, but in her current position, her movements were restricted, difficult.
“Please.” The cry was a familiar one whenever she was in his presence.
He responded to her plea not with words, but actions. His fingers left her clit completely and she groaned.
“No,” he said. “Your orgasms belong to me and you haven’t earned one yet. You haven’t finished answering my question.”
Question? He asked a question?
“Are you a virgin?”
“No,” she whispered. This wasn’t her book, these weren’t her characters. It may be a honeymoon of his making, but she couldn’t pretend to be anything other than who she was.
Besides, she wanted this night to be about her, not some make-believe character from her damn book.
“Are you sure?” His fingers traveled to the opening of her body. Suddenly and without warning, he slammed three digits inside her hot, needy flesh.
She cried out, gratitude mingling with the stars that flew through her. She tried to push against him, her body and mind screaming for him to move, to pound inside her, but he held his fingers motionless for several moments.
“You’ve had a man’s fingers in your cunt before?”
She nodded, but her silence seemed to annoy him. “Say it, Gwen.”
“Yes,” she hissed. “I’ve had a man’s fingers there before.”
“And a man’s cock?”
“Yes.”
“A dildo, a vibrator?”
“Yes.” She remembered her poor, battered toys as they lay in her unopened suitcase. She’d given them a workout during her two weeks away from Hollywood. Ty’s name was the one word she’d cried out night after night.
His hands left her as quickly as they’d entered her, and she fought back tears of frustration. They moved away from her pussy and back. She sucked in a breath when she realized his destination.
This time when he pushed into her body again, it was slower, one finger in her ass.
“Have you had a man’s finger in your ass before tonight?”
She nodded, but he waited for her words. “Yes.”
She knew what his next question would be and the thought of what he was asking, what he would do, left her light-headed.
“What about a cock?”
“No,” she whispered.
“So you are a virgin. You lied to me. You’ve never been tied up and you’ve never been fucked in the ass. Have you ever been spanked?”
He seemed intent on bringing every deep, dark sexual secret to light and for a moment, she felt a spurt of angry rebellion bubble up inside her. Did he intend to lay out his past sexual exploits for her examination?
“Not well,” she spat out, and she was surprised when he laughed. He leaned down to help her stand, turning her in his arms and embracing her tightly.
“Jesus, you are a treasure.” His murmured compliment relaxed her, and as quickly as her anger came, it left. His words, his actions, everything spoke to her, and she found it hard to keep the emotional distance she needed to maintain.
What foolish part of her had believed she could have a physical relationship with the man and remain aloof?
He was intent on conquering her, and although the battle had yet to begin—she sensed this interlude had been little more than a skirmish—she was already weak.
“Go lie down on the bed. On your back, spread-eagle.” He released her. “You’re going to offer me that innocence, Gwen, and I’m going to accept it.”
She stepped away from him on unsteady feet, her mind trying to acclimate to the idea that he would tie her up, spank her, fuck her ass.
Did she want that?
She stifled a small giggle at the insane question.
Did she want it?
Holy hell, her only concern was that he wouldn’t do it quickly enough. He was intent on dragging this play out when all she wanted was hard, fast, rough sex for as long as they both shall live.
As she lay on the bed, she sucked in a breath.
As long as they both shall live .
Where did that idea come from?
This wasn’t a true honeymoon. It was business with a bit of pleasure thrown in for good measure.
She was here for two months. Two months to work on a screenplay and perhaps enjoy some hot bed play with the handsome, sexy Ty Ransome.
That was it.
That was all.
Dear God, please let that be all.
Ty watched Gwen crawl onto his bed and position herself as he’d directed. He marveled at the fact his cock seemed to grow even larger at the image of her laid out before him like a banquet feast. He honestly couldn’t believe any more blood could fit into his already aching, filled-to-bursting appendage.
Christ.
He was two seconds away from blowing and he hadn’t even taken off one stitch of clothing. His little author was a veritable sex kitten and she had no idea of her effect on him.
She watched him through hooded eyelids and for a moment, he was overwhelmed with the desire to know exactly what she was thinking.
She was approaching sex with him as a temporary thing. He’d seen her consider his proposition, and he knew the moment she’d decided to give in to their mutual attraction.
Convincing her to stick around for the long run was going to be his real challenge. Well, that and dragging her repressed desires into the limelight.
She seemed slightly appalled by her hot buttons. She obviously liked pain and the thought of bondage, but he watched her constantly try to hide those facts, deny their existence.
During their phone calls and conversations, he’d discovered she was a woman who was used to being in charge of every aspect of her life and her career, but surely she must be tired of always making every decision, calling all the shots. By taking away her decisions in the bedroom, he suspected he could remove some of the lingering loneliness and stress reflecting in her eyes.
He walked to the end of the bed and looked at her. She constantly surprised him.
Rather than squirm uncomfortably under his scrutiny, she seemed to flourish with his appreciative looks. “You truly are lovely, Gwen.”
She smiled.
“I’m going to tie you up.” He reached down to reveal the straps he’d attached to the bed earlier. He’d concealed them and he could see a brief wariness in her eyes. “Pick a safe word. One word. If at any time during our sex play you become uncomfortable or frightened, say it and I’ll stop what I’m doing. But, Gwen, I must warn you. If you say the word, I won’t just pause, I’ll stop completely, so be very certain.”
She considered for a moment, and he knew before she spoke her word he wasn’t going to like it. A mischievous, all-too-pleased look crossed her face as she said, “Bambi. My safe word is Bambi.”
He stifled a groan and a grin of his own. She was a demon and an angel. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
“Never,” she teased.
Her smile grew brighter and he decided to exact his own small bit of revenge against the impish woman. He gripped her ankle firmly and pulled it toward the strap. He was shocked when she jerked her leg back, out of his grip.
She shook her head as she rose to her knees. “You didn’t think I was going to make it that easy, did you?”
He narrowed his eyes. She wanted to fight him? Clearly she didn’t understand how this game worked. “Gwen.” She giggled at his harsh tone and continued to move away from him toward the head of the bed.
“Catch me.”
His breath caught in his throat, the image of capturing and conquering her, a heady, exciting premise. Jesus, she wanted to be chased, and he knew there was nothing on earth he wanted more than to subdue her, force her to his will.
“If I have to chase you, I won’t take it easy on you,” he warned. She shuddered at his words and her body flushed with anticipation. “Lie down, Gwen, and submit to me.” He silently prayed she would deny him.
“No.”
At the sound of her single word, he pounced. He jumped onto the bed as she skittered off. She hadn’t been kidding when she dared him. She flew across the room, clearly trying to escape. He raced after her and caught her as she struggled to open the door to his bedroom. He trapped her arms at her sides, engulfing them in his own. He had to be careful to avoid her kicking legs. He felt her heart pounding as he locked his hands together under her breasts, pulling her against him.
“Your safe word?” He wanted to be sure, wanted to know that this game was just that—a game—and that she was a willing participant. She slammed her heel down on his foot hard and for a moment, he lost his grip. She wiggled loose.
“No word,” she shouted.
She truly wanted this. It was all the confirmation he needed. She ran toward the patio, but didn’t make it two steps before he caught her by the hair. She screamed as he took her down to the floor.
He knew she didn’t mind the roughness, but he refused to forget her fragility, refused to seriously hurt her. She lay trapped on her stomach as he used his entire body to subdue her.
“Do you give up?” he asked roughly in her ear. “Will you submit?”
“Never.” Her breathlessness betrayed her excitement.
He caught her wrists in one hand, pulling them behind her, holding them firmly at the small of her back. He moved down her thighs and roughly shoved her legs apart. She tried to kick out, but her mobility was limited by her position.
He prodded the opening to her body, amazed by the juices flowing from her cunt. He shoved in two fingers, shocked when her orgasm flooded his hand with her arousal while squeezing his fingers in a death grip of tensing, pulsating muscles.
Fuck.
She was coming.
She was climaxing from their game.
This chase fantasy must have been one she’d dreamed of for a very long time.
What other naughty little dreams did she have swirling about in that delicious mind of hers?
While she was mindless, lost in the throes of her orgasm, he grasped the upper hand. He stood and lifted her off the floor, carrying her to the bed.
She didn’t fight him as her body shook in the aftermath of her pleasure. Placing her in the middle of the large mattress, he attached her wrists together above her head with a strap, but he left her legs unbound.
If he didn’t get inside her body soon, he felt as if he would explode into a million pieces. He rose from the bed and watched as she regained her wits.
She pulled to check the tightness of the straps holding her captive to his bed and her gaze flew to his.
“You won’t break those restraints.” He slowly undressed, thrilled to see her watching him as if spellbound, subdued, submitting. He removed his shirt and pushed down his pants and boxers in one smooth move, her eyes following his every action.
“Like what you see?” he teased when her tongue darted out to moisten her lips.
Her eyes flew back to his face. “Yes,” she whispered. “Very much. Please hurry, Ty.”
He fought to regain control of the moment.
Damn her.
She’d taken his ideas of domination and submission and blown them out of the water. He’d lived his entire life with the dream of controlling a woman in the bedroom, and in one afternoon, Gwen had taken his preconceived notions of how this should work and twisted them into something new, something glorious.
Life with this woman would never be boring and as that thought crossed his mind, he realized that he would accept nothing short of a lifetime with her.
This really was their honeymoon.
He reached into the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a condom. Donning it, he crawled over her body, thrilled when she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him to her.
He placed his cock at the opening to her body and slid slowly into heaven. “I won’t be easy,” he murmured against her cheek. “I want you too badly to go slow.”
“I know my safe word,” she said, but he knew without a doubt she wouldn’t use it.
Pulling back, he slammed into her with all the force, all the power, all the desires she’d brought to a boil in his body over the course of the last hour.
Over and over, he shoved into her, making demands it seemed only she could fulfill. She came twice around his cock, but he refused to give way, refused to stop.
When at last he felt he had to come or die, he gave in to his release as she cried out and joined him again. He hovered over her, and as he climaxed, he was inundated by the realization that every dream in his life had just been fulfilled in her.
A lifetime spent hiding behind the guise of a character of his own making simply drifted away, leaving him naked, uncovered, revealed.
Gwen looked at him, her eyes sparkling with the same amazement he felt, and he knew the truth.
He’d just found home.
He collapsed on top of her, aware his weight was crushing her, but powerless to move. He buried his face in her neck, afraid to let her see the tears hovering in his eyes. He breathed in her fresh, flowery scent and savored the softness of her skin.
After several moments—once he’d composed himself—he shifted to the side and released the straps at her wrists, dragging her arms down and lightly massaging her shoulders.
She turned her face to his, and he leaned forward to kiss her. Caressed her lips with his.
“Quite a honeymoon,” she said after they broke away. The light in the room had gone dim as afternoon had given way to evening, and he wondered how long they’d lain there simply kissing.
“Quite a honeymoon,” he agreed with a contented grin.