“So no ‘auditioning’ girls or anything like that?” I shyly ask.
“No way,” he says, kissing my shoulder. “I wouldn’t be casting new people anyway. I know who’s good, and I’d hire people I knew could deliver.”
“Girls you worked with,” I murmur.
“Some girls I’ve worked with,” he concedes. “But also girls I haven’t shot scenes with, but who I know are great performers—and very professional.”
I take a few seconds to work up the courage to ask him the next question. “Did I make you quit?” I whisper meekly. “Did you only stop doing it because you thought you’d upset me?”
“Absolutely not,” he says, rotating me until I’m straddling his lap—thankfully I’m small enough to do it in this little tub. “I liked work, but I like you more.” His smile is sweet and honest.
“But did you feel like it came down to me versus work?”
“Never.” He shakes his head. “Even if you had told me you were okay with me continuing to work, I wouldn’t have done it. I don’t even look at other chicks. You’re the only one for me, Lo. You’re everything.”
“You never miss it? The attention, being on the set, all that?”
“No. As much as it was fun, it wasn’t fulfilling. Now this right here, this is fulfilling.”
He leans in to kiss me. Though his new, overgrown stubble is a little scratchy, his lips are soft and tender, affection radiating from everywhere our bodies touch. I throw my arms over his shoulders and kiss him back, pulling him tighter to me. Sometimes I feel like his kiss is worth a thousand words, like he can communicate his feelings to me through physical means in a way that would be more difficult to convey with sentences.
I can feel him growing harder as I subtly grind on him. I try to hold as still as possible and only shift my hips, rocking him up and down over my sex until we’re both too aroused to wait.
He holds my hips as I rise up for a moment and align him before lowering myself down and taking him fully. His resulting exhale is deep and rough, and his eyes close as he absorbs the feeling.
We don’t have a lot of leverage in this small space, but I begin working my hips in those slow, controlled motions I know he likes. I’m looking in his eyes and I feel a surge of empowerment. I fucking own him in moments like this. If I can maintain control enough to stave off my own orgasm, I can watch him come undone and enjoy the expression on his face.
“Tell me you love me,” I whisper seductively, reveling in this little power trip.
“I love you,” he pants. “I love you so fuckin’ much, Lola!”
“Tell me how it feels,” I continue, kissing the side of his neck in that way that I know drives him wild.
“So good, baby,” he breathes. “Your pussy’s so tight. It’s my fuckin’ paradise. Oh, it’s so good.”
I can’t help but smile. I keep going, making my motions determined, but going slow enough to hold off for myself. He loves when I ride him, and he loves looking in my eyes while I’m doing it.
“I love the way you feel inside me,” I say softly.
That elicits a groan from deep in his chest. He loves dirty talk, and he tries to get me to do it all the time, but I’m usually too shy to get into it. I press my lips to his ear and continue, describing everything in detail. The things I’m whispering to him now aren’t particularly graphic, but I’m delivering them in the sexiest way possible and it’s very clearly having an impact.
His hands slide around from my hips to my ass, and he presses me tight to his body before controlling my movements and shifting me faster. This lines him up with the perfect amount of pressure on my clitoris, and I moan as I feel my muscles starting to tense.
He’s kissing me when I feel his fingers moving inward, closer and closer to my “off-limits, absolutely forbidden, don’t even think about it” zone. My whimper reverberates over his lips when I feel his fingertip trace a little circle against that unexplored region.
“Is this okay?” he breathlessly asks, pulling back from the kiss to look in my eyes.
Surprisingly, it is okay, and I nod to tell him so. I’ve been so fearful of anything pertaining to that area, but this isn’t scary or forceful. I don’t feel degraded or demeaned. I feel quite all right, actually, and I’m both shocked and relieved to let go of some of that apprehension.
There’s a little pressure back there, and I tense a tiny bit. I have no idea how far things are going to go tonight, but my trust in James assures me that nothing bad will happen, even if this is new and unexpected.
“Look at me, Lola,” James softly instructs. “Look in my eyes, okay?”
I nod, and I’m buzzing with a slightly nervous excitement. It’s kind of frightening, but in a fun way—like when you jump at a scary movie and laugh at your own reaction.
My eyes close, and I gasp when his finger breaches the barrier. I can’t fucking believe I’m doing this…and that it doesn’t feel horrible.
“Open your eyes, Lo. I need to see you, baby,” he whispers, waiting for me to look at him. “Do you want me to stop?” he asks when I meet his gaze.
I shake my head. “I can do it,” I shyly respond.
“Does it feel okay?” he asks with a tiny hint of concern in his eyes.
“Uh-huh.” I nod, trying to process the new sensation.
He shifts my hips, and I feel him sliding in and out of me, both in front and from behind. This is so weird, but not unbearable. A small yelp escapes from my throat when he does it again.
“Are you okay?” he asks, restraint making his chest tight.
“Yeah,” I answer, looking up to meet his eyes again.
“I love you, Lola,” he whispers with great sincerity. “You’re doing really good with this, angel. Stay relaxed for me, okay?”
I nod and lean forward onto him like I’m clinging to him. My forehead is in the curve between his neck and his shoulder, and he’s got his free hand pressed flat against my lower back to hold me soothingly.
He uses what little room he has to angle his body so he can get some leverage to pump his full length up into me. Water is splashing around the tub as he speeds up, his hand staying still and his finger remaining in position.
Everything lines up in just the right way, and a dramatic whimper makes its way from my lips as I tumble into a powerful orgasm. I’m vaguely aware of the motion from behind me, but I’m awash with sensations right now, and it’s hard to distinguish one from the other.
“Yes, Lola,” he exhales. “Mmm, that’s right, baby.”
My body is shivering, and I practically see stars, though my moans have been replaced with quiet mewling or the occasional gasp.
All his motion stops, and his grip around me gets tighter. He groans loudly, and all his muscles tense as he loses himself.
It takes both of us a while to get it together again, and I feel him removing his exploratory finger and holding me lovingly. My face is still hidden near his shoulder, and he’s whispering that he loves me and that what we did felt so powerful to him.
My trembling breaths must worry him because I can feel his instinctual need to comfort me coming through in the way he’s rubbing my back.
“Are you okay, sweet girl?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I answer in a shaky whisper, nuzzling into him even more.
“Will you let me see your eyes, angel?” Yep, he’s worried.
“Not yet,” I reply, trying to stop myself from overanalyzing what just happened. I don’t want to freak him out or for him to think he pushed me too far. I didn’t hate what we did, but I know he’ll think I found it uncomfortable if I look at him right now. My mind is too all over the place, and I’ll probably look conflicted.
“Don’t hide, baby,” he says softly. “Let me see.”
I look up at him, and just as I suspected, a look of worry and guilt spreads over his face. He’s scared that I might feel like he violated me, like he debased me and crossed a line. I hate that troubled expression, and I want to show h
im that everything’s fine.
“I love you, James,” I whisper, my voice still a little shaky. “With all my heart, I love you.”
I wrap my arms around him again and embrace him. I can feel his chest relax as he exhales, and I think he understands that I have absolutely no negative feelings about what we did.
When I sit up again, I playfully kiss all over his face like I can’t hold back my affection. I can feel his cheeks pull up when he smiles and laughs lightly as I keep going.
“You had me scared for a minute there,” he confesses, trying to downplay it.
“I know. I felt bad that you were worried, I just needed a second to collect my thoughts.”
“Was it…um…all right for you?” he cautiously asks.
“Actually, yes,” I say with a nod as I lean back so I can look at him.
“No pain or anything, right?”
“None at all.”
“And you didn’t feel weird about it? It didn’t freak you out?”
“No,” I answer. “You were gentle. You always are when we do something new.”
“But this was really new, and you’ve pretty much banned me from any and all backdoor action, so I was worried I was crossing a line. I didn’t want you to panic.”
“I know. I trust you, and I knew it would be fine, which is why I said we could keep going.”
“So you really felt okay about it?” he asks warily.
“Yeah,” I reply with a nod. “It wasn’t too bad, really.”
His lips curve into a smile, and his eyes flash with that hint of mischief that I love. “You’re so fuckin’ phobic of anything even going near that area that I was sure I was going to get slapped.”
“Well, it’s different when it’s my choice. If I’m letting someone go near that area, then it’s different from when I had someone barging right in.”
His expression is confused, and I suddenly realize that I never told him the full extent of what I went through with Eric that night. He knows that the “Douchey Norseman” got rough with me and that he attempted to force himself on me, but he doesn’t know the lesser violations I faced. Clearly, he notices the way I’ve tensed up.
“What do you mean, Lo? When did someone barge right in?” His tone is calm, but I can see that subtle rage boiling up.
“It doesn’t matter now,” I attempt to reassure him. “The point is that you showed me I don’t have to be so scared of it if the person I’m with is gentle and cares for me.”
“I need to know,” he murmurs quietly.
“No, you don’t.”
“Lola, I need you to tell me what happened. I can’t have you keep it from me.”
“You’ll freak out and do something rash that will land you in jail,” I say, attempting to lighten him up.
His eyes grow wide and he looks horrified. “It was Eric, wasn’t it? He did something to you. He invaded you.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “It wasn’t what you’re thinking. Yes, it was awful, but I’ve moved on, and I don’t think about it anymore.”
“Jesus, Lola,” he sighs. “Did he force himself inside you there?”
“No! It was just a finger, and I survived, James.”
He pulls me against him dramatically and clutches me to his chest. I can feel him taking deep breaths and squeezing me tighter. I hate that this upsets him, though I certainly understand why it does. It was definitely horrifying for me at the time, but each day with my loving husband has pushed it farther from my mind, so it doesn’t affect me anymore.
“It’s all right, James. I’m okay, and I don’t think about that night or that man anymore.”
“I just did that to you.” His voice is tight and strained. “I just did the same thing that monster did to you.”
“Stop it,” I say, shifting so I can look in his eyes. “You’re nothing like that, okay? You didn’t force me, you didn’t hurt me, and you didn’t make me feel…contaminated the way he did.”
“Christ, I’m so sorry,” he says with a troubled expression.
“No.” I shake my head. “No apologizing. You made everything better, James. You took something I was afraid of and showed me that it could be all right. You love me and you proved to me that I can always trust you.”
His smile is a little tentative, but he can tell I meant what I said.
“So don’t go all brooding and emo on me, huh?”
That gets a light laugh and a nod of agreement.
“Come on, I’m turning into a raisin,” I remark, looking at my pruning hand. “How about you get that sexy ass out of the tub and cuddle with me in bed? What do you say?”
“You got it, cupcake.”
I get out and grab towels for us, handing him his before drying myself off.
By the time we get into bed, he looks a lot more confident, and I make a point to shower him with soft little kisses to show him that I treasure him. I know this new Eric info will probably stick with him for years, and he’ll certainly guilt trip himself for not coming to my rescue sooner, but hopefully I can show him that everything will be okay and that he doesn’t need to dwell on it. He’s much more at ease by the time I turn off the light and curl into him to go to sleep.
Chapter 11
James
CLOSING ON THE HOUSE was a blur. Honestly, I don’t even remember the proceedings. We signed some stuff, money changed hands, and they handed us the keys to our dream house.
None of our furniture is here yet, but we were so anxious to spend the first night in our new house that we brought an air mattress and overnight bags just so we could enjoy our new, kick-ass master bedroom. Since we don’t have any kitchen stuff, we ordered Chinese and ate out of the containers while we sat on the floor in the dining room. Now we’re ready to wind down for the night.
Lola doesn’t know that, among the things we brought in for this evening, I also brought in something special. She seemed a little curious when she saw the big box, but she didn’t ask what was in it.
She definitely knew something was up when I told her to wait in the living room while I set up the air mattress. She offered to help, but she gave me this big grin when I told her I had it covered.
I’ve lit the last candle, and I take a step back to look at my handiwork. The bathroom looks like a cathedral with all these warm, flickering lights. A sex cathedral.
We finally have a bathtub big enough for some serious fooling around, and I intend to make use of it tonight. I’ve poured in some really fragrant lavender bath salt and made sure to get some good bubbles going, something to make Lola feel luxurious and pampered. I fully intend to spoil the fuck out of her tonight, and I plan to pleasure her in ways she never even thought possible. She’s going to fuckin’ love it! I really dig the romance part of our relationship, and it’s cool to have a girl I can lavish with love. I’ve never done this before and I always kind of wondered what it was like to be one of those Don Juan DeMarco dudes.
I walk back out into the bedroom and take her hand, silently leading her into the bathroom.
Her eyes are wide, and she’s got a really beautiful, flattered smile on her face when she sees the candles and hears the music I’ve got coming through the small iPod speakers I have on the windowsill. She looks up and her smile gets wider when she can see that I’ve opened the skylight above the bathtub and we can see the stars twinkling in the clear evening sky. Yeah, Lo, I’ve gone full romance tonight.
I don’t say a word, just give her a look of lust—the old, reliable James Laird Sex Laser Beam, as she likes to call it. She melts. Her eyes get all hooded, her lips part, and I can tell she’s turned on by the very prospect of what I have in store tonight. She should be. This is going to be pretty damn good.
I back her up against the counter, trapping her with my body. She digs it, and she starts breathing faster. She kind of likes when I take charge like this, since I usually let her run the show in our sexual situations. She knows that when I take the reins it means we’re going to try someth
ing new, and she’s almost always down for that.
“Is this what you had up your sleeve with that big box of ‘bathroom stuff’ you just had to bring in?” she asks.
“Uh-huh.” I pin her to the counter with my hips, and she looks up in my eyes. She’s got that smile, the one that makes me go totally insane with passion. It’s this look that combines innocence, vulnerability, and a naughty kind of eagerness, like she can’t wait to see how things are going to play out.
I slide my hand up the side of her neck until my thumb brushes the underside of her jaw. My eyes trail over her lips—so full and soft. For a second, I get this surge of warmth in my heart. I’m the only one who gets to kiss those lips. I remember the first time that I ever kissed her and how it completely solidified it for me. I knew I was in love with her the second her lips touched mine. I knew I couldn’t live without her and that I wanted to be with her for the rest of my life. Amazing how one little glance at somebody’s lips can trigger a memory like that.
I kiss down her neck, and I hear her exhale. It’s a great sound because it’s like an alarm for how much I’m turning her on.
I slowly take her shirt off and unhook her bra, sliding it off her arms. Next I look right in her eyes while I unbutton her jeans, and I drop to my knees as I slide them down her legs. I kiss around her bellybutton as she steps out of them, and she makes a breathy moan when I kiss her over her panties.
Again, I look into her eyes as I hook my fingers into the waistband and pull them down her thighs. Her breath is a lot faster now and her nipples are completely firm.
I kiss between her legs, but really lightly, just enough to tease her and drive her wild. She brushes her fingers through my hair and parts her legs a little to give me better access. I give her a few flicks of my tongue and she moans, tightening her grip on my hair.
In a quick motion, I grab her hips and hike her onto the counter, diving into her and devouring her. She’s moaning a lot louder, and her hips start rocking fast. She’s racing to get there, and I want to knock the first one out right now so I can show her that I plan to take my time and make her come again and again tonight.
Vice, Virtue & Video: Devoted Page 13
