Chapter 5
Chapter Five
V ignette Two: It’s Time
The week of their “honeymoon” passed far too quickly for Ty, and he returned to the demands of his job, resentful at being forced away from Gwen’s sweet body. Acting had been his life, his singular joy for over two decades, but as he watched the actors on the set recite their lines like they had mouths full of peanut butter, he wondered why the hell he bothered.
He was guest-directing one of the hottest shows on television as a favor to a friend. One of the show’s gimmicks was inviting a different person in the business to direct each week.
He called “Cut!” and once again tried to explain to the two stars exactly what he’d already said twenty-seven fucking times today.
He worked hard to control his temper because part of him suspected the actors were trying to provoke him to anger. He was well aware that while there were several cameras pointed at the set, there was also one directed at him.
At the end of each show, the producers aired a montage of behind-the-scenes clips of the famous director working with the cast.
No doubt some asshole producer had decided it would improve ratings to show that infamous Ransome temper exploding. Ty refused to accommodate them, but as the scene dragged on and on, each minute keeping him away from returning to Gwen, he found it hard to keep his growing fury in check.
“Mr. Ransome,” the director’s assistant said. The annoying woman had shadowed him for three days, offering coffee, food and advice almost every other minute.
“What?” he barked.
She widened her eyes as if afraid of him, and he fought back a growl as he spotted the camera out of the corner of his eye.
“I’m sorry, Paula. What do you need?” He watched her disappointment at his calm apology, and he realized she was also in on the scheme to provoke him to madness.
“There’s a woman here to see you. She insists that it’s very important.”
“Important?” he snapped, fed up with the constant interruptions. He wanted to be home in bed with Gwen, not here surrounded by this fake, talentless group of morons. “We’re in the middle of a scene. A scene that would have been finished two hours ago if these two had bothered to learn their lines.”
Fuck the cameras and fuck this show. If they wanted to see Ty Ransome in a rage, he’d give them their money’s worth. Screw Bernie and his warnings to clean up his act.
A figure moved behind Paula, distracting him, and he spotted Gwen, waving nervously from the edge of the set. His anger dispersed in an instant.
“Everybody take ten,” he shouted to the cast and crew. He could almost detect the sighs of annoyance as he walked away from them without giving them the money shot they were waiting for.
Fuck.
Was the whole crew conspiring against him?
“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he said softly as he approached her. He gave her a quick buss on the cheek, unwilling to subject her to the cameras and gossip that would surround her if word of their relationship got out. He knew the tabloid onslaught would be unavoidable eventually, but he wanted to spare her that for as long as possible.
“It’s time,” she whispered.
“Time?”
“I’m ovulating. We need to have sex. Now.”
His mind whirled at her words.
Ovulating?
Sex?
Now?
He started to question her, until he remembered the second story. “It’s Time” involved a young, married couple as they struggled to conceive. The sex life they’d enjoyed prior to their decision to make a baby had turned into a chore as the wife’s desire for a child began to rule the bedroom. Over the course of time, the husband started to resent the feeling of being treated like nothing more than a stud used for breeding.
“Gwen, I’m sort of in the middle of something right now.” Even as he spoke the words, he couldn’t believe she’d actually appeared here expecting him to have sex with her in the middle of a busy set.
“You said you were committed to this, Ty. We agreed to do whatever it takes to make a baby. I need you.” Her voice, though soft, was firm. He glanced around quickly to make sure no one could overhear them and misinterpret her words.
“Gwen, I?—”
“We have to hurry,” she said. He looked down at her body and he could see that she was certainly being honest about the needing him bit. Her nipples were threatening to tear the thin material of her sundress and her face was flushed.
“Dammit, this really isn’t a good place or time. There are too many people. I know what you’re trying to do, Gwen.” He grinned, hoping to dissuade her with charm. “But let’s face it, the honeymoon isn’t over yet.” He leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “I’ve yet to claim that ass of yours. Let’s wait a couple of weeks before we tackle the next story.”
“ Now , Ty,” she insisted, her voice louder, carrying. He watched several stagehands pause to look at them.
“You’re making a scene,” he hissed.
“It’s time,” she repeated.
Already at the end of his rope, he felt the last straw break. “Fine. You wanna play this fucking game here, we’ll play it.” He gripped her arm tightly and directed her toward his trailer. He couldn’t mistake her quick intake of excited breath at his aggressive handling, and his traitorous cock sprang to life instantly.
Perfect, just what he needed. A bunch of cameras recording him dragging Gwen Preston to his trailer with a raging hard-on.
He pushed her quickly up the three steps, slamming the door closed behind them with more force than he intended. “God dammit, Gwen. In case you’ve failed to notice, I’m working. There are a hundred people out there all waiting for me to fuck this up. Now really isn’t a good time for this.”
She glanced down at the front of his pants and smirked. An honest-to-God smirk. “Fuck.” To hell with the cameras, to hell with keeping their relationship under wraps and to hell with her. “Turn around and bend over that table. Lift up your dress.”
If she wanted to be fucked, he’d accommodate her. He was too incensed for finesse, for grace.
She wanted a stud, she’d get one. He pulled a condom out of his wallet before shoving his pants down. She watched with a satisfied smile before turning around and lifting her dress.
He fought against the fresh round of arousal that attacked him when he realized she wasn’t wearing panties, her juices shining on the pale skin of her inner thighs. He took two steps forward and moved into place, thrust in without ceremony, without pause.
He pounded into her with rough, hard blows, angry at first, but as they continued, every emotion raging through him fled, all except the ones that mattered.
Relief, calmness, peace.
Her body met his blow for blow, and as she came around him, his anger, his misery poured out of him in a hot, hard, powerful release of come that he silently prayed the condom could hold.
He bent over her back, breathing raggedly as guilt suffused him. He’d used her hard and when he’d entered her, it had been with anger. Something he’d never, ever done before.
He was ashamed of himself and afraid of her response. This was the reaction he’d feared right from the beginning.
He knew the stress of the job made him nastier than a bear with a thorn in his paw. He’d been so afraid of hurting her and now—Jesus—now, he’d used her hard, hurt her.
How could she ever forgive him?
They’d made very little progress on the writing of the screenplay, and as each day passed, he felt his tension and anxiety grow. He’d yet to explain to Gwen the impact, the importance their joint project could have on his career.
This week’s stint was just another example of how badly he wanted to break free of his stereotypical persona. He was tired of everyone watching and waiting for him to screw up. The success of Evening Songs could bring him stature, respect, elevate him to a higher level of performer.
Hell, at this point, he’d just settle for being taken seriously as a professional.
“I’m sorry.” His voice was hoarse.
She pushed off the table, and he unwillingly rose as his now-flaccid cock fell from her sweet body.
“Sorry?” she asked. “Why?”
“I was angry, Gwen, and too rough. I shouldn’t have taken you like that. I should have waited, calmed down.”
She reached up to cup his cheek in her soft hand. “I provoked you. It was my fault.”
He shook his head. “I was the one who suggested we act out the stories.”
She smiled and leaned up to kiss him. “I’ve missed you these past few days. The writing was easier when you were there to bounce ideas around with.”
He nodded. “Yeah, I know. Even then, we weren’t getting many words on the page.”
She blushed and he grinned.
Regardless of their rather heated bedroom play, he could still provoke that lovely flush on her cheeks with just a few naughty insinuations. She was a gift and he wondered how he’d ever lived without her.
“Are you sorry about starting this project? Do you think taking on the screenplay was a mistake?”
“No.” He cursed himself when she jumped at his too loud, too harsh response. “No,” he repeated quietly. “I’m just impatient to see it written. I’m still convinced it will be an amazing movie.”
“Yeah, well, I must admit, I’m starting to believe you. In fact, I was sitting in your bedroom this afternoon, trying to concentrate on the screenplay, trying to finish that scene we’d started over the weekend, but all I could think about was how much I wanted you. No, God, not just want, but need. I needed you. The feeling grew until I didn’t think I could bear it. I got out my vibrator and?—”
He reached up and took her wrist in his hand roughly, and his body went hot with anger again. “You used a toy? While I was at work?”
He’d laid down some ground rules for her after their first night together. Rules he warned her would bear punishments if broken.
One was she wouldn’t use her toys without him. Another was that she wouldn’t come without him being with her.
Eventually he intended to teach her not to come without his permission, but she’d clearly spent too many years repressing her dark desires for him to impose that rule yet. She tended to come fast and hard at the slightest touch. He knew as she became accustomed to his commands, his demanding touches, she’d learn to control her responses, but for now he enjoyed sharing her pleasure at the newness of their sexual adventures.
“You’ve been back to work three days, Ty, and you get home so late. I?—”
“Answer my question, Gwen. Did you use that vibrator? Did you come?”
She blushed again. “It didn’t help,” she whispered as if that excused her actions. “It just made me want you more.”
He shook his head. She’d broken a rule.
She hadn’t truly tested him yet, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, that’s what this was. She was daring him to assert his authority. She’d mentioned the toy. She’d wanted to confess, wanted to see how he would react.
Obviously he would have to find ways to keep her more focused during the day. Keep her busy. Apparently she had too much time on her hands for naughtiness.
“Turn around. Bend over the table again.”
Her pupils dilated at his command and she quickly complied. He raised her dress to her waist once more, running his hands along the pale globes of her ass. He’d threatened to spank her if she misbehaved, but he’d never had the occasion to follow through on that threat.
Until now.
Over the past week, Gwen’s need for pain had surfaced more and more in small ways. She’d come one night with no more stimulation than him pulling her hair while he taught her how to swallow him deeply in her throat.
Though she’d accepted the concept of bondage during their first night together, he hadn’t continued to explore that aspect of their relationship, as he sensed her reluctance to admit what she truly wanted from him.
The damn woman clearly considered certain things too dark, too wrong. He’d correct her of that mistaken assumption eventually, but right now he was going to further her education in another area.
Without any prelude, he slapped her bare bottom several times, watching the flesh go pink beneath his hand. Gwen was silent through the first few smacks, but as he built the speed and strength, he watched with wonder as she began to squirm, her body trying to anticipate the blows, trying to seek them out before they fell.
She groaned loudly, and he sensed this punishment might be falling short of the mark. Her ass glowed bright red and had to be sore, yet he knew she was on the verge of coming. He stopped and pulled her upright.
She cried out in anger, but he refused to be moved when she started to protest.
“Watch it, Gwen,” he said. “This was a punishment, nothing more. You took this orgasm at home, without me. One more word from you and I won’t allow you to come for a week.”
She opened her mouth to refute his claim, but he placed his fingers against her lips. “Before you threaten to disprove that comment, consider this. I will throw every one of your fucking toys away and tie you to the bed every day while I’m gone so that you can’t touch your own pussy.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Her question was spoken with a breathless quality that alerted him to how much that idea turned her on.
Holy shit.
She’d enjoy intense bondage.
Even though he knew he’d never truly leave her alone while she was tied up, he didn’t mind using the threat, building the scene in her mind.
“Do you really want to test that theory? You won’t come for a week. I will make sure of it.”
“But then you’d suffer too.” He could see she was afraid he’d follow through with his threat to withhold her orgasms. She was becoming a greedy lover. Lucky him.
“That’s part of being a Master, Gwen. Your instruction, your obedience comes with a price for me as well.”
“Master?”
He’d yet to initiate any conversation regarding BDSM with her, but he knew more and more that he wanted to live that lifestyle with her. He wanted her to call him Master, wanted her to serve him as his sexual submissive.
But first, he had to prove to her that her penchant for bondage and pain wasn’t wicked and wrong.
He kissed her gently, not ready to tell her of all the hopes and dreams he’d pinned on her.
“Later,” he said, dismissing her question. He walked toward the back of his trailer and pulled out a bag. He’d had the toys delivered earlier in the day, and he’d intended to surprise her tonight at home.
As always, Gwen blew his plans sky-high. As she watched, he pulled out a butt plug and vibrator. Tearing them from their packaging, he washed them off in the small bathroom sink before returning to her.
He kissed her gently on the cheek. “Last time, I promise. Turn around and bend over.”
She grinned as he repeated the same command for the third time. “Since you’re ovulating,” he said with a small chuckle, “perhaps I should keep you close to me today.”
Her ass was still red, and he struggled to understand the part of him that became aroused at the sight of his woman’s ass marked by his hand. He shook his head, glad that Gwen couldn’t see the grin that crossed his face. It seemed they both needed to come to grips with the skeletons in their bedroom closets.
He pushed his fingers into her hot pussy and she immediately reacted, moving against him, attempting to steal more of the stimulation she needed.
He laughed softly at her incredible sex drive. He pulled out and she hissed at his retreat, until he used her juices to ease his finger’s path into her ass.
Although he’d promised to fuck her there, he hadn’t done so. He wasn’t sure why he was waiting. He wanted to fuck her ass like he’d never wanted anything in life, but he wanted it to be special for her. She confessed she’d never had a man there, and the idea of being her first appealed to him greatly.
Picking up the butt plug, he decided it was time to proceed down that path.
Tonight he would claim this last frontier as his own. He rubbed the plug against the outer lips of her pussy, using her fluid to coat the hard toy before placing the tip at her anus. She sucked in a harsh breath as he pushed the large plug past her tight ring of muscles.
Once it was lodged, he heard her heavy sigh of relief.
“How does that feel?” He was curious about her every thought as he dragged her deeper and deeper into his fantasies.
“Tight. Wonderful.”
He grinned. Leaning forward, he retrieved the second toy, a small vibrator that was operated with a remote control. He pushed the tiny toy into her dripping cunt before helping her stand. She swayed a bit as she attempted to acclimate herself to toys filling her.
Reaching into his pocket, he pushed the button that would activate the vibrator. She hissed in surprise at the feeling. Keeping it on low, he watched her lovely cheeks flood with color.
“Ty,” she said, but he cut off her comment.
“You’re going to sit beside me on the set for the rest of the afternoon. If you are a good girl, I’ll give you as many orgasms as your little body can take tonight. But if you come without permission at any time while we’re here, I won’t fuck you again until tomorrow night. Understand?”
It was high time he moved forward on her training. If she was questioning his authority and testing his rules, it was obvious she was ready for the next level.
She nodded in response, and he could see she was already fighting against her growing arousal. The vibrator was set on low.
How would she react when he pushed up the speed?
“Your orgasms belong to me now. You don’t come without my permission. Ever.”
She shuddered at his words, but he wanted to hear her accept them as true. “Do you understand, Gwen? Repeat it back to me.”
“My orgasms belong to you,” she whispered, and he smiled.
Gwen sucked in a rough breath and fought against the instinct to squirm in her chair. Ty’s name suddenly took on a new meaning as she suspected it wasn’t short for Tyler as she’d originally assumed, but instead was the shortened version of Tyrant. He’d taken great pleasure in tormenting her all day with his evil little toys, and she wondered how she’d managed to hold back her building orgasm.
For two hours, she sat beside him as he directed the scenes, one after another.
When she’d first arrived on the set, she’d sensed his anger, his frustration. None of those emotions were present in him now. He was jovial, good-natured, laughing with the cast and crew as if she wasn’t suffering in agony just a few feet away.
She fought the urge to walk over to him and slap the smug smile off his face. She was dying, and he was enjoying it.
She felt the vibrator in her pussy pick up speed and she cried out. The cameraman nearest her glanced over, and she tried to cover up the sound with a cough. The annoying-as-shit assistant who’d been trailing after Ty all afternoon as if he were her personal God walked over to her to see if she needed a glass of water.
Gwen shook her head, uncertain if she could speak without her voice quivering. She squeezed her legs tighter together and attempted to ride out the storm yet again.
The past week with Ty had opened her eyes to a world she’d only lived in her fantasies. She was continually amazed by how in tune with her desires the man was.
Every day, despite her attempts to hold back, to protect her heart, she found herself falling deeper and deeper under his spell. She was failing miserably in her attempts to hide her darker nature, and she feared the day when Ty realized he’d never be able to go where she needed him to go. She was setting herself up for certain heartbreak and yet, as she sat here with her pussy and ass crammed full of his torturous toys, she knew she’d never have the strength to do as she should and walk away.
After about a million years, Ty finally called it a night, congratulating the cast and crew for their outstanding work. As he approached her, the murderous feelings she’d felt all afternoon dispersed, turning into instantaneous red-hot lust.
“Are you ready to go?” He extended a hand to help her up. She’d refused to move all day, unwilling to risk adding to the stimulation in her pussy and ass. Now she was paying the price as her legs felt stiff with the inactivity.
She nearly fell as she stood, but he deftly caught her, holding her close to his chest. She glanced up into his face as her nipples tightened against his firm chest. “You have the limo?”
His eyes narrowed as if he suspected the reason for her question. He nodded.
“Good,” she said. “It’s time.”