Page 145 of Wicked Fantasies

Chapter Seven

Vignette Four: Evening Songs

…As the elderlyman holds his beloved wife in his arms, the sun rises and the scene fades to black.

OLD MAN

(whispering)

Forever.

Gwen finished typingthe 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,neededhis 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.

---