Page 85 of Beyond the Spotlight Discreet Version
“Fuck me, Reynold. Right here in the back of your car.”
“Say less,” he groans between kisses.
A window rolls up and I’m guessing it’s a privacy screen shutting out the driver. Reynold smashes a button somewhere because loud rock music plays. My hands fumble with his buckle and the zipper of his dress pants. He’s not wearing underwear, so I grab his cock and fist it up and down.
His head falls back and hits the headrest.
I push aside the thin strip of my thong and adjust myself to line up the head of his dick with my pussy. I’m already soaked.
“Condom?”
“Not unless you want to. I’m disease free and I have an IUD.”
He answers by thrusting up into me. I cry out from the pleasure packed pain because he’s bigger than I’m used to, and I have to adjust to his size. His hands squeeze my ass, encouraging me to move.
I use his shoulders as leverage and lift my body before slamming back down. He moans and fists my hair to hold my head in place. He kisses me like a starving man who didn’t just eat a full course meal.
I move up and down, going as fast as my body will allow, but it must not be enough. Reynold holds me so he can thrust up into me at a damning pace.
“Fuck, yes, Reynold.”
My head falls to the crook of his neck where my lips work his skin. I suck and bite and he groans next to my ear.
“You feel so good,” he gasps and reams into me faster. “Are you going to come for me like a good girl?”
“Yes,” I whimper.
I’m close. My pussy constricts around his cock, and he moans, digging his fingers into my ass cheeks.
He pauses, fully seated in me, and sticks a finger in my mouth.
“Suck.”
I do. Down to his knuckle.
He removes his finger and slides it into my asshole. I arch my back at the sensation that I swear I’ll never get used to.
“Let me hear how good I fuck you, Savannah.”
He resumes thrusting. Once he’s got a good rhythm going, he pumps his finger in and out of my ass. The combination breaks me. I come undone. Stars burst across my vision and Reynold grunts as he pistons through my orgasm until he’s filling me up with his cum.
He removes his finger from my ass, and we sit there panting for at least a minute.
“We’re almost at our next destination,” Reynold says, rubbing my back.
“Mhm.” It’s all I can say. I’m too satisfied. I could nap right here in his lap, his dick inside me where it belongs, and my head resting on his shoulder.
His hands move up and down my spine before he slides them down to my ass. He squeezes generously then slaps once: my cue to get off him. He’s ready with a napkin to clean up his cum as it leaks out of me.
I rarely experienced aftercare in my past relationships. I can never go back. Reynold has spoiled sex for everyone else.
You don’t want anyone else.
The thought has lingered in my head for weeks now. I try to convince myself that it’d never work with Reynold. Our lives are too different. And that paparazzo’s comment outside the restaurant is just the tip of the iceberg.
Lana offered to be there for me to talk about this part of dating a celebrity, but she has her own life. She and Mylan are considering adoption to begin a family. Ginger is about to give birth and I haven’t met Jensen yet. Anyone who could be there for me would be too busy.
“Are you okay?” Reynold asks, either seeing or sensing my sudden mood change.
