Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
V ignette Four: Evening Songs
…As the elderly man holds his beloved wife in his arms, the sun rises and the scene fades to black.
OLD MAN
(whispering)
Forever.
Gwen finished typing the last word of the screenplay, leaning back in the desk chair and trying to covertly wipe away the damn tears gathering in her eyes. Ty’s chuckle alerted her to the fact he’d caught her in action.
“Do you need a tissue?”
“No thanks, Hollywood. I’m not crying.”
“Of course not, just some dust in your eye, right?” He leaned down to kiss her cheek. She tried to laugh at his jest, but a small sob escaped before she could hold it back. “Hey.” He pulled back to study her face. “You really are upset. Is it the ending? Don’t you like it?”
“I love it. It’s perfect. Really. I’m just being silly.”
“I don’t think there’s anything silly about getting attached to your characters. You’ve created them and they’re a part of you.”
She nodded as he attempted to console her. She didn’t know how to tell him that her crying actually had very little to do with the script and everything to do with the fact that their collaboration was over.
For two months, they’d shared this room, fighting over plot points and making love until the wee hours.
He’d explained in detail about his desire to tackle a more serious film, and she’d been touched by how much his craft meant to him. He was an amazingly talented actor and he would be a phenomenal producer. She’d followed him to the sets of various projects during their time together, and he never failed to take her breath away.
However, there was a small, insecure part of her that simply couldn’t believe he was attracted to her.
Once they’d jumped the hurdle of her fears and insecurities in regard to her sexual preferences, the dam had broken and they spent night after night just talking, sharing secrets. She’d never felt as close to anyone as she did Ty.
He had a definite knack for uncovering her deepest, darkest fantasies and bringing them to life. She glanced across the room at the St. Andrew’s Cross he’d erected a month ago. She’d spent countless hours bound to the structure as he brought her more pleasure than she’d ever imagined possible.
He followed where her gaze had landed.
“I think we should celebrate.” He took her hand and helped her rise.
“Celebrate?”
“Take off your clothes.” Her heart raced at his gruff command. Gwen was becoming accustomed to his dominance. She was thrilled when the tone of his voice dropped or he assumed what she’d come to recognize as his Master stance. He was standing with his arms crossed against his chest and his face was stern, telling her with just body language she would obey him.
She’d spent weeks fighting with herself, trying to deny that she wanted, needed his rough touches, and with patience and understanding, Ty had broken down every wall, every barrier she’d erected until there was nothing left except them, here together, sharing everything they had to give.
She slowly pulled her T-shirt over her head, hiding her smile when his gaze darkened. She loved that she could make him so hot and needy. She slid her bra off, letting the lacy garment fall to the floor.
Before tugging off her jeans, she cupped her breasts, knowing that Ty loved watching her touch herself. She pinched her nipples until the pain of her actions forced a soft groan from her lips.
He watched silently, not moving. She unzipped her jeans and pushed the denim over her hips. She wasn’t wearing any panties, per Ty’s instructions. He’d tossed all her panties in the trash weeks ago. When she was totally naked, she stood in front of him, waiting for his next command.
“Go stand in front of the dressing table.”
She frowned. “I thought?—”
He chuckled. “I know what you thought, Gwen, but you don’t decide what we do in the bedroom. I do. Go stand in front of the dressing table and face the mirror.” As she passed him, he gripped her upper arm to stop her and swatted her ass five times. “Next time I expect you to obey without question.”
She shivered and squeezed her legs together, no longer trying to deny how much she craved his punishments.
Together, they’d explored the concepts of BDSM, and for the first time in her life, she felt an inner peace. She’d slowly learned to accept that this was who she was. She was finally comfortable in her own skin and she had Ty to thank for it.
The loneliness that had resided inside for most of her life was gone. The pressures of her career had also faded. She wasn’t quite sure how to explain the feeling of utter freedom that permeated her being when she gave herself to him completely.
She stood before the mirror, watching as he moved closer. He hadn’t taken off a single stitch of clothing. She loved these moments. Loved being his all-too-willing slave.
She’d spent so many nights pondering the idea of being his submissive and in truth, she’d never felt happier. He’d brought her to orgasm with his hands, his cock, his tongue, but also with words and whips and ropes at her wrists. There had been no desire he’d refused to satiate, and he’d never made her feel ashamed about her need for pain and bondage.
“You’re so beautiful.” He took his place behind her. They looked at each other through their reflections in the mirror, and as she caught a glimpse of her body, her face, she felt beautiful. “I have a treat for you.”
“For me?”
He nodded. “I’ve been saving it for just this occasion. For the day when we finished the screenplay.”
Her heart lurched at his words. Since his admission that he loved her nearly two months earlier, he hadn’t used those words again.
Of course, she’d never offered them even once, too afraid of his rejection.
What if this relationship was directly tied to the writing of the screenplay?
Now that the script was written, was their time together over?
Ty hadn’t mentioned the future beyond the end of this partnership, and now that she was faced with the ending, her heart felt as if it were on the precipice of being irrevocably broken, shattered.
He pulled out the padded stool beneath the dressing table. “Sit down.” She winced slightly at the burn from his previous spanking, then she watched him through the reflection in the mirror as he reached into his pocket to pull something out.
“Lift your hair,” he said.
She complied as he placed something around her neck. She gasped when his hands moved and revealed the thick band of silver. “It’s a c—” Her voice caught on the word, unable to say it.
“A collar,” he finished for her. “And there’s something else.”
She couldn’t take her eyes off the beautiful silver chain. There were sapphires set into the intricate design of the metal with a very small loop at the front.
To most of the world it would just appear to be a simple choker necklace, but anyone familiar with BDSM would realize it was a collar. She knew perfectly well what a collar meant, and her chest blossomed with hope.
Surely he wouldn’t give her this if he intended to end things.
A collar denoted commitment and a serious relationship.
She turned on the stool when she realized he wasn’t standing behind her anymore, rather he was kneeling. In his hands was the largest, most gorgeous diamond engagement ring she’d ever seen.
“Ty.” The tears she’d fought back earlier returned full-force and brought friends.
“I want you to marry me, Gwen. I want you to be my wife by law and my submissive by choice. Stay here with me. Please.”
She nodded, her throat too clogged with happiness to speak the word. He grinned, placing the ring on her finger, and she laughed.
“Dear God, Hollywood. Couldn’t you find a bigger ring?” A diamond surrounded by sapphires engulfed her finger.
He joined her laughter. “I don’t want anyone to mistake the fact that you are completely, one hundred percent spoken for.” He reached up to stroke the collar at the throat, and she felt the familiar racing of her heart he managed to inspire with a single touch.
“I love you.” The words were new to her lips, but familiar to her heart. She’d fallen in love with him the first night he’d fallen asleep in her bed in the guest house, looking so lonely and weary. She couldn’t help but care for him, and she’d been a fool to hide her feelings for so long.
“I love you too.” He pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply, and she reveled in the passion behind his caress. He led her over to the bed and he undressed slowly, leisurely.
Their unhurried pace was a sharp contrast to the mad dash of sex they’d succumbed to every night since she’d moved into his room. It was as if the idea of forever had calmed the rough, frightened edges in each of them, and the rhythm of their evening songs would never be the same again.
As he pushed her back onto the bed, he came into her, his lips kissing her gently as his cock moved deeply, slowly within her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, meeting his thrusts, trying to show him with her lips and body how very much she loved him, wanted him.
When they came together, it wasn’t the usual blinding, crushing eruption, but rather a sensual melding so hot, she felt her as if her body was melting into his.
He held her as they struggled to catch their breath, and she fought to recover her wits. She leaned up on her elbow and looked at his beloved, handsome face. He watched her through hooded eyelids, a smile on his lips.
“So, what do you think of my talents, Mr. Ransome?” she teased. “Good enough to get me a part in your next movie?”
He laughed as she fluffed her hair in true starlet style. “Sweetheart, you’ve just landed the role of my leading lady for the rest of our lives. Forever.”
Her heart swelled at the thought.
Forever.
Yeah, she could do that.