"She hurt you?"
The sound of disgust was immediate, the denial instant.
"Nej, not me. Besides you have to care about someone to give them the power to hurt you, and I wouldn't ever be that stupid again."
Sylvia's heart clenched anew at the pain in his voice, so in contrast to his growled words of denial.
"Then why, I mean—"
"Shh, min sköna, enough talking. You need to rest. We'll discuss all this in the morning."
One shaky hand went in her hair, and the other massaged her back in slow circles, as he slid their bodies back under the covers. Sylvia snuggled closer into his warmth with a small sigh of her own. Something still didn't add up here, but the tension in his arms warned her not to probe further. Besides, she was exhausted after that exchange, and she really didn't want to argue with him. As her eyelids grew heavier, warmth spread through her at the whisper in her hair.
"Trust me, my lover. I would never hurt you like that."
She went to sleep with a smile on her face at the implied suggestion that he'd hurt her in other ways. That thought really shouldn't make her smile, but that flogger had looked damn inviting.
Chapter Fourteen
The slam of the front door woke Sylvia with a start.
"Woohoo! Awesome!" Timmy shouted in his usual over-exuberance.
"Shush, you'll wake Mum up." Ruby's laughing protest carried through the open window, followed by the slam of car doors and the unmistakable roar of Ali's little runabout. It seemed they were off somewhere then. No doubt Ali thought to give her mum and Sven some time alone. The thought of Sven made her heart flutter faster, as she remembered their conversation from last night. It seemed he was ready to take their relationship up to a Dom/sub level, and despite what she'd said last night, that thought filled her with the warm glow of anticipation. She could reclaim that side of herself, at least in the bedroom. It would be one step on her road to take back what Richard had wrestled from her. He would not win. She was a survivor. Sylvia stuck her tongue out at an imaginary Richard, an action which would have cost her dearly in the past, and she scooted over to Sven's side of the bed. His scent still clung to the pillows. His side. Now there was a thought that made her silly little heart start to skip like a bunny on a spring morning. She had to remember not to jump to conclusions. Theirs was only a sexual relationship, which would run its course soon enough, but by heck, she was going to enjoy every minute of it.
The sound of footsteps on the stairs had her hurriedly combing her hair with her fingers in an attempt to restore some order. Anticipation danced the samba down her spine, and need pooled low in her belly. The ring of Sven's mobile phone made those footsteps stop, however.
He cursed in Swedish and then there was a curt, "What now, I'm here."
It seemed to hang in the air, as he no doubt listened to whoever was on the end of the phone, and then he stomped down the stairs again. The soft thud of the living room door muffled his voice enough that she couldn't hear what he was saying, but the iciness and barely controlled fury carried upstairs well enough.
She wouldn't want to be the person at the receiving end of all that Larsson temper. He'd need time to cool off after that phone call, so she padded to the bathroom to run herself a bath. A long soak was what was needed to soothe those bruised lungs of hers. Hopefully, by the time she was done, Mr. Hot-Head would be safe to approach.
Half an hour later, she squinted in the sun as her search for the man led her to her garden. Now, why on earth was Mrs. Robinson hanging over the fence with a big grin on her face?
"Pssst, Sylvia, there you are."
She rolled her eyes at her neighbor's hushed whispers. What now? And where in the world was Sven? She got her answer when she stepped off her decking and rounded the corner, following Jo's excited gesticulations. Her stomach dropped to her boots, and all the air left her lungs in one big whoosh.
Now, wasn't that a sight for sore eyes?
A sentiment clearly echoed by Mrs. Robinson, whose theatrical whispers Sylvia could barely hear over the pounding of her own heart. Lust had her in its firm grip, and she had to remind herself to breathe.
"I am definitely making him the hero in my next book. Look at those abs and those itty bitty shorts. Doesn't leave much to the imagination, you lucky thing, you. Oh, be still my beating heart. This was so worth climbing up this ladder."
Sylvia could only agree. Stripped to the waist, bare feet digging into the grass, Sven's face was a study in concentration as his big body moved in the graceful martial art of Kata. The fine sheen of perspiration only served to emphasize the play of muscles on his torso as he worked his body in the strict discipline. His breath whooshed in and out in controlled grunts, and Sylvia bit her lip to stop herself from moaning. Jo's excited chatter did not register at all. All her focus was on Sven. He moved in slow circles, and straightened in and out of tight squats, as his arms performed the intricate dance the martial art required. With one last slow exhale, he straightened his long frame and looked straight at her with a toe curling lazy smile. The world narrowed to just the two of them locked in their bubble of sexual awareness.
****
Damn, she looked hot. Sven grabbed his T-shirt off the floor, used it to wipe the sweat off his brow, and tucked it into the waistband of his shorts to hide his body's immediate reaction to seeing Sylvia watching him.
He'd known the minute she'd entered the garden. The slight breeze had sent her scent toward him, and his body had recognized and reacted to his mate on a purely subliminal basis. Sven walked slowly toward her, glad for the cover of the tee as the hot ache of desire shot through him. The sun behind her rendered her little summer dress transparent, and he let his gaze travel over the curve of her hips, down her long, slender legs to the bare toes curled into the grass. Back up over the slight indent of her waist, he stopped his visual inspection on the swell of her rapidly moving breasts. Her nipples puckered under his gaze before he skimmed her face, and finally settled on the plump bottom lip, which she was biting down on hard enough to draw blood.
The Dom in him itched to order her to stop. The only marks he wanted to see on her body were the ones placed there by him in the pursuit of giving her pleasure. He marveled at those thoughts, which he'd thought long buried. Nothing quite like being accused of assault to stop even the most hardened dominant from giving into his baser urges. Sven pushed the unwelcome thoughts away. They had no place in his relationship with Sylvia, and they had an audience right now. He settled for a simple greeting instead.
"Hej."
"Hi."
The need in that breathy voice zoomed straight to his cock, and not caring about her now sighing neighbor, he pulled her flush against him. Her desire soaked eyes widened further, as he lifted her slightly to grind his raging erection into her core. The moist fullness of her slightly open lips was an invitation he could not resist, and he took the plump skin between his teeth and bit down. Sven sucked her moan of surrender into his mouth and deepened the kiss. Damn, he'd missed her responsiveness. The way her body molded into his as though they were made for each other, and how she made him forget everything but this immediate need to possess, to brand, to make her his. Lifting his head slightly, he scanned her flushed face, and his gut clenched at the trust he saw in her eyes, as they fluttered open. Trust he really didn't deserve, and he swore to himself there and then to make it up to her. He couldn't give her his heart, but he could damn well meet her needs and be her Dom, just as soon as he got her alone.
He forced himself to let her go and then turned toward the fence. Her neighbor still dangled over it at a precarious angle.
"Show is over, Mrs. R. Haven't you got a book to write?"
"Ohh, yes, Sven dear, and boy have I got a plot line and scenes in my mind. Your buns are to die for, might even encourage me to take up, er, baking…"
Sylvia's embarrassed laugh into his shoulder made him roll his own eyes at the woman, who gave his body one last bold appraisal, before
she had the good grace to make herself scarce.
"I dread to think what she'll put in that book."
"Hmm, I'll have to make sure to read it, min sköna. Now where were we?"
Sven sucked in his breath when she ran her hands over his chest, and she looked up at him. He should stop her and take charge, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. They could write their own rules and to fuck with what anyone else might think about their dynamics.
It was just so good to see her up and with color in her face. If she wanted to tie him up and use the flogger on him, he'd let her right now. Anything to keep that sexy grin on her face.
He'd been so goddamned worried about her when she'd collapsed at the school, her breathing too shallow and labored and her whole body on fire. She'd been too pale and listless, and hearing from that useless doc that it was just a touch of flu had almost sent him over the edge. It had been Timmy's worried little voice asking what was wrong with Mummy that had gotten through the red mist of his anger, and he'd done his best to reassure Hard Head that Mummy would be just fine. She had to be. She was too damned important to the little man. Sitting up with her, watching her thrash about, coaxing her to eat sips of his mother's recipe chicken broth, his relief had been immeasurable when her fever had finally broken, and he hadn't dared to examine his own feelings too closely.
He still didn't. What he felt for the woman trembling with need in his arms was too complicated and too scary to think about. Instead he grabbed her cute ass, and simply picked her up and carried her inside. Sylvia locked her legs around his waist, and they crashed through the kitchen and into the hallway, before he dropped her on the stairs with a muffled curse.
"Jeez, baby, I need to taste you now. I can't wait."
Sylvia smiled in answer and shifted herself higher up the stairs. She pulled her dress up, so that her pussy was right in front of his face and opened her thighs wide. The sweet smell of her arousal in the air was his complete undoing. Yanking the elastic of her knickers down, she helped him by lifting her bum and kicking the scrap of material away. Her soft moans urged him on, and he clamped his hands on her thighs to spread her wide, and then he buried his face in her drenched folds.
Sylvia grabbed hold of his hair to keep him in place, and she arched her hips into his face. Sven lapped up her sweet essence. Her pussy clenched around his marauding tongue, and he speared it into her channel, fucking her with his tongue. When her walls quivered and tightened, he withdrew and licked a path up to her little puckered hole instead.
Sylvia tensed, and mindful of her needs he didn't pursue that avenue this time. Instead, he suckled her engorged clit into submission, and the ache in his own cock became unbearable.
"Sven, please … I—"
Her words barely recognizable, she pulled on his hair, and he lifted his head to see her passion filled eyes look down on him. Sylvia's hips bucked again when he pushed two fingers into her drenched core.
"So wet, baby, so ready, come for me, pet."
"No, please, Sven I need you inside me, please, oh God, I'm so close, Sven."
He watched his girl as she came apart noisily. Her breath came in short gasps, her whole body shook, and her pussy clenched round his fingers. A rosy flush spread all across her body.
"You're so beautiful. I can't get enough of you. Mine, all mine. You're such a good little pet."
Sven bunched her dress up further and traced a path over her tummy with his lips. His teeth grazed the stud in her bellybutton. He pulled slightly and smiled at her gasp of surprise. The dress was in the way, so he pulled it up higher until he could bare her breasts. Sven took one pert nipple in-between his teeth and alternated bites with full on suckles, until she was writhing under him again.
"Sven, please, I want your cock inside me now."
Releasing that nipple with a pop, he groaned his frustration into her soft flesh as his shorts went sticky with the release of pre-cum. Fuck it, he was not going to shoot his load in his shorts at her whispered words. The rip of foil brought his head up in surprise. She pushed him off her until their roles were reversed and it was his ass resting on the stairs. Sylvia rolled the condom onto his cock with trembling hands.
He fisted his hands in her hair, and affection welled up in him at the impish smile she gave him, before she threw the empty wrapper over her shoulder.
"The dress has pockets. You're not the only one who comes prepared, Sir."
The unexpected salutation was music to his ears, and her face lit up when he whispered his approval.
"Such a good pet. Ride me then, before we both explode.”
Sylvia giggled and then aligned her pussy with the tip of his cock.
The sensation of her sliding her wet cunt over him made any conscious thought leave his body.
"Hell, baby, you'll be the death of me."
Sensation overwhelmed him as she began to move. Her internal muscles gripped and stroked him. Her soft moans mingled with his harsh groans, and their movements grew ever more urgent. With one final thrust he spilled into the condom deep inside her, and then flipped her over. Sylvia gasped as the change of position made him slide in even deeper, and he allowed himself two hard thrusts into her. With a few quick flicks of his thumb to her clit, he sent her, too, over that sweet edge. Her startled eyes connected with his, and his heart soared at what he saw in their depths.
There it was, the trust and the submission he craved.
It was some time later, having shared a bath which had little to do with getting clean, and watching Sylvia toss the salad she'd prepared to go with the pizza cooking in the oven that he made himself bring up the earlier phone call.
"I have to leave tonight, min sköna."
Her barely audible sigh made him flinch as she turned round slowly, and brought her arms round her waist.
"I guessed you would. I'm surprised you stayed as long as you have."
He hated hearing that wobble in her voice, the uncertain smile she gave him as her teeth worried her kiss swollen lips.
"It's work, baby. I've got to go to L.A."
"Okay."
That was it? Just a fucking okay? He'd expected more than that. Surely what they had was worth more than a simple okay? And why the hell did that bother him so much?
Because you don't want to leave her, dumbass! And you daren't let her see that because that would give her too much power over you.
The sudden revelation winded him, and his eyes narrowed taking in the curve of her bum as she bent down to take the pizza out of the oven. The tray wobbled slightly as she put it on the counter, and he let out the breath he'd been holding. She wasn't as impervious to his leaving as she made out to be then.
"Don't you want to know why?"
She didn't answer him and made herself busy with the pizza cutter instead.
"Pet? Answer me."
He put his hand over hers, and she snatched it away and put some distance between them.
"Don't you dare pull the Dom card on me now. We're not in a scene, and you're not my Master, so cut the bull."
Despite the situation he had to smile. That was more like it. His little firecracker was back.
"Then answer me when I ask you a question."
She rolled her eyes, but she did respond.
"I'm assuming it's something to do with that phone call that got you all riled earlier."
"You heard that?" he asked.
"It was kinda hard not to. Your voice carries when you're that annoyed. But I didn't hear what you said." Her eyes quickly darted towards him, before she once again stared resolutely at the floor. In other circumstances he would have found that submissive pose a turn on. Now it just reeked of avoidance, especially when she wrapped those damn arms around her waist again.
"Look at me, baby."
She shook her head, and he ground his teeth in frustration.
"I have to attend this premiere. I don't have a choice. They finally released the latest film I shot, and I need to promote the fucking thing. I'v
e already missed too many meetings as it is."
"Because of me?"
The question hung in the air between them, and she darted another glance in his direction. The way she straightened her shoulders and her mouth tightened at his reluctant nod made his gut clench anew.
"Well, I'm sorry for taking up so much of your valuable time. I didn't ask you to stay."
He made a grab for her and tightened his hold on her shoulders. He couldn't quite suppress his annoyed grumble in answer, however, and she jumped. He let her go and nudged her chin up with his knuckles.
"You were ill. There was no fucking way I was leaving you here, knowing that. Besides it's neither here nor there. I can't stand the bloody things at the best of times. It's not the sort of film I want to make anymore, and I sure as hell am not looking forward to having to play nice with Landon."
Bile rose in his throat at the mere thought of having to see the bitch again. He still wasn't sure how he was going to stop himself from strangling the murdering cow, and he wished liked hell he could have Sylvia there. That would at least make it bearable, but he couldn't subject her to all that.
The tentative hand on his cheek brought him out of his dark thoughts.
"It can't be that bad. You look as though you want to kill someone."
He shook his head to clear the dark memories away, all too aware of Sylvia's quiet gaze resting on him.
"You have no idea, baby."
"Then tell me. Why is this so difficult for you? You've made a few films with her, haven't you? In fact, I seem to recall Ruby quoting how you were once supposed to be an item.” She blinked at his furious snort. "Is that it? You two fell out? Did you love her that much, Sven?"
The wobble was back in her voice, and, dammit she looked on the verge of tears.
"Don't be ridiculous. I don't do love, I told you. "
Fuck, why could she not just let this go? He didn't want to waste their last afternoon together talking about the bitch.
The Housewife and the Film Star Page 13
