“Drop the sheet Blair,” he demanded, and I did.
“You see, Blair, I own you,” he whispered, thumb pressed to my lips, “which means if I want you to walk around naked, you will, whether it’s cold or not. And if I ask you to come to my fucking charity lunch, you say ‘yes.’”
Leaning in, I kissed and bit his lip. “You can use your superpowers to undress me, Mr. Shaw, but there is no way you are getting me to flounce around like one of those society sycophants.”
“Is that a challenge?” he asked.
Pushing his chest, I stood straighter. “Damn straight.”
He looked down as if he was in shock that I had pushed him before backing up and walking toward the double doors.
Click.
The moment those doors closed, I knew I had sealed my own fate, yet I couldn’t help but get excited. The pain between my legs was gone, and I wanted him badly. Fuck.
Turning to me, he unbuttoned his shirt slowly.
Fuck.
“Get on the bed.”
“If I did that, Mr. Shaw, where would the challenge be?” I whispered, stretching and brushing my hands through my hair.
He smirked and then charged me.
“Oh no!” I laughed, jumping on the bed and rushing to the other side.
“Really now, Ms. Hawthorne?” he asked from his position on the other side.
“’Really now, Ms. Hawthorne?’” I mocked with my hand on my hips. I couldn’t help but grin. “Don’t you have a lunch to get to?”
Instead of speaking, he just jumped on the bed. I tried to run toward the door, but he grabbed ahold of my arm, pulling me back to the bed and pinning me under him.
“Why must you always fight me?” he asked.
“Because you like it,” I whispered.
He didn’t say anything, pinning my hands above my head with one of his and kissing my neck as his other hand traveled down my chest and between my legs.
I was just waiting for the right time. I wanted to catch him off-guard. I wanted to tease, have him at my mercy, to control his pleasure. I wanted to play him the way he was currently playing my body.
“You’re coming to lunch,” he whispered, biting my neck.
“No.”
“Have it your way, then,” he growled.
He moved so quickly that I didn’t have time to blink before his belt was off and I was on my stomach. Tying it around my wrist, he attached the other end to the bedpost before grabbing my ass and kissing it.
“Damon, don’t—”
“Then wear the dress.”
“D—”
Before I could reply, his palm connected with my ass, sending shivers up and down my body. It hurt so good.
He didn’t stop there. He continued until I couldn’t handle it anymore.
“FUCK! DAMON…ah…” Rubbing my thighs together, I fought against his belt, trying to break free.
“There’s my girl,” he laughed, kissing both of my cheeks and even giving one of them a small bite. I felt the wetness slide down my thighs, my pussy throbbing with need. “Now, wear the dress.”
“Fuck you.”
SLAP!
“AH! Fuck!” he hit me so hard, I came, gasping.
“So soon, baby?” he teased.
“Go … screw yourself.”
He snickered. “I’d rather screw you—but not before you beg me to.”
He got off the bed, walking toward the bottle of champagne we had ordered with our breakfast. Lifting the bottle, he drank straight from it, watching me as I struggled and wiggled to get free, amused with himself. He reached in the ice bucket and grabbed a block of melting ice and placed it on the top of my back.
“Oh—” I shivered as it melted on my skin, the icy water slowly dripping down my spine. How could something so simple turn me on so fucking much? No matter how much I tried not to think of it, I couldn’t. The water dripped down the crack of my ass.
“Are you cold?” he questioned. I wasn’t sure if I was shivering from the situation or the ice anymore.
“Yes,” I answered, preferring the latter of my two choices.
“How about this,” he whispered, taking one of the scented candles from the bedside table.
“Damon—ahhh, fuck,” I gasped when the wax dripped onto my back and ass. There was no way to describe how it felt to go from one extreme to another. All my senses felt like they were being overloaded, and my pussy throbbed with need.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
“Blair, baby, you’re shaking.” His voice sounded even sexier, filled with the promise of relief if I gave in to him. “You want me this badly.”
Noah.
“Da—mon!” I moaned when he cupped my pussy, pinching my clit.
“I wonder what you taste like on my tongue,” he said, putting the candle to the side. He licked up my thigh to the source of my wetness. He didn’t just lick—he sucked. He latched on to my pussy and drank me in.
“That … that oh … feels so good.” I could feel his tongue as it licked the lips of my pussy before entering the folds and going deeper in me. The more I grinded into his face, the deeper he went, and just as I was about to lose it, he stopped.
“No … please,” I pleaded.
“Please what? Beg me, remember?”
“Please fuck me,” I gasped. “Please, I need you.”
“I win,” he replied, and I felt his cock press against my pussy, rubbing far too slowly for my own liking.
“Damn it!” I cried out in frustration as I tried to free my hands.
“Patience, baby,” he replied and instead of fucking me like I wanted him to—like I needed him to—he stopped so that I could say my last line as if he had entered me.
“Jesus—”
“Has no place being here,” he said, snickering and biting the tip of my ear.
“Cut.”
God fucking damn it all to hell.
I tried to control myself as he undid the ties around my wrists, and when I sat up with my back to the cameras, he put a sheet over me.
We both sat on the bed trying to breathe.
“Amelia, that’s all we need from you. Noah, we still need the shower scene.” Director Zane was the only one to speak. Nodding, I rose from the bed, taking the sheet with me.
We’d noticed during these takes that everyone was silent but the director, and I wasn’t sure if that was because the director told them to be or because they weren’t sure what to say to us after watching us “pretend” to go at it like animals. However, with each scene, Noah and I were blurring the lines between acting and reality. I had to stop myself from calling out Noah’s name instead of Damon’s more that a few times.
Chapter Ten
Amelia
When I got back to Noah’s—our—suite, Ollie was leaning against the door, his head down and arms crossed.
“Ollie?” I said.
He glanced up, his face tired. But he still put in an effort to smile as he kicked away from the wall and stood up straight.
“Done with your scene?” he asked.
“Yeah, they still wanted Noah, so I figured I’d take a shower and call it a night.” He never stayed for the sex scenes, and I couldn’t blame him. “Is something wrong?”
“You mind if we talk for a second?” He moved from the door to allow me to open it.
“You’re scaring me, Ollie,” I joked, swiping the key and entering the dark room. I had to feel around the wall for a second before turning on the light.
The suite had been cleaned since we had left in a rush early this morning. Ollie took a seat on the tan couch, right in front of the mahogany coffee table, waiting for me to sit down as well.
This was serious.
“Ollie—”
“I want to start off by saying you did nothing wrong, Amelia,” he sighed, sitting on the edge of his seat when I sat down across from him.
“It doesn’t feel that way,” I responded.