“But…” she glanced up and down at the bed. “…to have sex, I need to be bent, right? So, I wouldn’t just be standing here. I’d… oomph!” She bent at the waist and without her arms and feet to center her balance, she fell into the bed, face first.
Rolling her neck to the side, she burst out in laughter, face red and hair a wild mess of tangles. A strand stuck to her lipgloss and she laughed harder as she tried to spit it out. “Oh, God,” she gasped between giggles. “I-I can’t get up!”
My own laugh bellowed through the room as I rushed to her, grasping her waist and pulling her back up to a standing position, facing me. “There,” I said, brushing her wild hair from her eyes.
She shrugged and freckles adorned her flushed face. “I guess it takes some practice, huh?”
Her body was pressed against mine, breasts pushed against my chest. They were soft—natural, and beautiful. Unlike so many other actresses I had acted beside. My hand splayed at her lower back and my fingers were dangerously close to the exposed flesh of her ass cheeks. Her pussy pressed into my growing erection and her giggles quickly morphed into panting—only making those glorious breasts heave harder with each breath.
Her eyes searched my face as she took her bottom lip between her teeth. “Thanks,” she whispered. Her breasts brushed my chest, her nipples like pearls pressing against my ribs. I could almost taste our chemistry. It would be so easy to surrender to desire right now. To take her lips, slide my tongue into her mouth. My grip on her hips was tight and unforgiving, my fingertips dug into her soft flesh. From the counter, my phone rang, causing us both to jump. That piercing ring cleansed the thick, pulsing arousal between us.Fuck.
She swallowed. “Are you going to answer that?”
Fuck, no. I shook my head. “I’ll call them back later.”
So, what if I was physically attracted to Marly? Any man with a pulse would have gotten hard at the sight of a her tied and bent over. It didn’t mean jack shit. I didn’t want her. I didn’t need her. And I’d be damned if I let another woman fuck with my career—not to mention my life. Hell, no. Never again. Especially one that was already spoken for.
I pushed her to arms-length and despite the scowl on my face, Marly’s was soft, contemplative. “You okay, Poppy?” I asked. Even the nickname felt different now; more loaded. More suggestive.
“Yeah. I’m good.” Though she was still wearing the monoglove and spreader bar, her shoulders were low and relaxed. Confident. Maybe the most confident and calm I’d seen her since the moment we met, and my thoughts lingered on what exactly that meant—that the most calmly confident I’d seen her was when she was bound and tied. “Interesting, isn’t it?” I asked.
She tilted her head, brows lowered in question.
“How a bound body frees the mind.” With three long strides, I was behind her, loosening the monoglove.
She hissed a long, low breath. “Why is that?”
“It’s different for everyone. I’ve heard some people explain that it’s because you have no choice. With your body bound, you are only able to control your thoughts and that release opens you to new sensory explorations.”
She was silent, and I didn’t interrupt her thoughts. Instead, I bent down to help her step out of the spreader bar.
“Let’s take a break,” I said. “Study our lines. It would be nice if we could have them memorized or mostly memorized when we run the scenes tomorrow.”
“What else are we doing today… Sir?” She added it as an afterthought. Like she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to still be in character or not. Or maybe unsure if shewasthe character.
A fiery heat billowed through my chest. Sir coming from her lips was easily the most erotic thing I’d heard in years. Maybe ever. “We’re going to study lines separately… then, I want you to interview another Dominant. Maybe talking with someone new will inspire new questions. And I still want to take you to that public flogging tomorrow.”
Unreadable silence stabbed the space between us. She’d said she was okay watching others, as long as she herself wasn’t doing anything publicly. Had she changed her mind? “That is, as long as that’s still within your comfort level—”
“Yes,” she answered fast. “Sir. Yes, Sir. It’s fine.” She worked her jaw, like she was resisting the urge to say something. Then, without another word, she bent, retrieving her jeans from the floor and fled to her room.
