by Sk Quinn
My stomach drops. ‘Why did you have to mention her?’
‘Sophia, I’m not going to dance around your jealousy. She’s a girl from my past who meant nothing to me. Nothing at all. I’ve already told you that.’
‘She’s obviously on your mind.’
‘Hardly. I just remember how she was around food, that’s all. A pain in the backside.’
‘I don’t want to talk about your ex-girlfriend.’
‘She’s not my ex-girlfriend. She’s just a girl. Nothing more. I want you to grow out of this jealousy of yours. And the only way to do that is to confront it head on.’
‘Grow out of my jealousy? Like you’ve grown out of yours?’
‘I admit, I still have my moments.’ A smile spikes Marc’s lips.
‘So I can still have mine.’
‘From time to time. But Sigourney is a girl you’re going to be working with for the next few months. You have to get over this one, Sophia. Having said that, you’re fucking sexy when you’re angry.’ He strolls around the breakfast bar and turns my stool to face him. ‘Fucking, fucking sexy.’
‘Don’t joke about this Marc,’ I huff.
‘And irresistible.’ He presses his lips against mine. Then he lifts me into his arms and carries me towards the staircase.
‘I’m still angry with you,’ I mutter.
‘Anger is good. It gives me something to work with.’ Marc carries me up the stairs.
‘We haven’t finished talking,’ I say. ‘This isn’t over.’
‘Is that any way to speak to your husband?’ Marc walks into one of the many guest bedrooms. ‘Don’t struggle. And by the way, you look even more beautiful when you glare.’
Marc gives me an infuriating smile as he lays me gently on the bed.
I’ve never been in this room before, and feel the mattress ripple gently underneath me in the weirdest way.
‘Oh!’ I gasp. ‘What’s wrong with the bed?’
‘Nothing. It’s a water bed.’ Marc leans over me, palms holding my wrists either side of my head. ‘It arrived today.’
‘Are you actually pinning me to the bed, Mr Blackwell? If I’d known this was your idea of marriage …’
‘It’s exactly my idea of marriage,’ says Marc, his eyes on mine. ‘A good obedient wife obeying her husband. And if she steps out of line …’
‘She gets punished?’
‘Exactly right.’
‘And here was me thinking you’d given up your controlling behaviour.’
‘I’m not controlling you. Leave if you want to.’
I laugh.
Marc cups his ear. ‘What was that? You don’t want to leave? You’d like your husband to teach you good manners?’
I feel the weight of his hand, still pinning wrists down. And see his long body come to sit astride mine.
‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t quite hear you,’ says Marc. ‘Did you say you wanted to leave?’
‘No,’ I mumble.
‘Thought not.’ Marc lies between my legs and I feel the hardness of him against my thighs.
The bed ripples beneath us.
Marc reaches down and tilts my head. ‘Do you see that? In the corner?’
I follow his gaze.
‘What is that?’
In the corner of the bedroom is some huge metal frame thing that looks like exercise equipment. Except there are all sorts of leather straps over it …
Marc smiles. ‘Your surprise.’
34
I wriggle under Marc, but his hands return to my wrists and hold me firm.
The bed wobbles.
‘Let me up. I want to see.’
‘You’ll get up when I tell you to.’
‘Oh stop it. We’re married now. You can’t keep bossing me around.’
‘Says who?’
‘Says me.’
‘As usual, I have to take a firm hand in your pleasure. Because you don’t want to admit that me taking charge turns you on.’
I glare at Marc. ‘God you can be a bastard sometimes.’
‘A bastard you’re in love with.’
Marc kisses me, pressing his whole weight down.
I let out a sigh, melting under him and moving with the watery mattress.
His hardness presses insistently against my thighs, and he forces my legs further open with his knee.
I swallow hard as he lifts my leg and deftly undoes my shoe laces.
Within seconds he’s pulled off my s and s and is sliding off my jeans.
As he pulls my panties down, he rests his head between my legs and moves his tongue in circles.
‘Ohhh,’ I moan, spreading my legs wider.
His tongue moves firmly as he pushes my knees to my chest.
The bed ripples under me and my thighs tense with pleasure as I rock back and forth.
Marc’s tongue stops circling and his head moves up my stomach, kissing my navel, ribs and between my breasts. He pulls my legs around him, and I feel his hardness between my thighs again.
Taking one breast firmly in his hand, Marc sucks hard with his strong lips, pulling white flesh into his mouth.
‘Oh!’ I cry, my hand finding his hair.
He responds by sucking harder, and my fingers tighten against his scalp.
‘You’re going to give me a love bite,’ I moan.
Marc’s lips drop free. ‘Exactly right. I’m marking my territory.’
He presses his lips back against my breast, sucking with a ferocity that makes me cry out.
When he finally releases me, I see an angry red mark.
‘Interesting place to give me one of those,’ I say.
Marc moves his lips to my neck, murmuring against my throat, ‘I can’t very well mark your neck when you have filming to do.’
‘You don’t have to mark me anywhere,’ I say, feeling red hot between my legs.
‘Oh yes I do.’ Marc’s lips move around my throat and up to my ear. Then he whispers, ‘Because you’re mine.’
I wrap my legs around his backside, my hands finding their way into his hair again.
He responds by pushing himself between my legs, moving his hand down to guide himself in.
I am SO ready for him, and he slides easily inside.
I feel him fill me up and moan loudly, my thighs tightening around his hips.
As Marc begins to move, we float on the bed, ebbing and flowing.
I’m lost in so many sensations – the gentle movement of the bed, the lapping sound of water in the mattress … and Marc, Marc, Marc, his hard body and hands and relentless lips.
We move together in perfect rhythm, and my eyes close as heat and pressure build.
‘Oh Marc. Oh god. Oh god, Marc. Marc!’ I cry out, tightening my body around him, grasping his thick brown hair.
Marc responds by pounding harder and faster, the bed moving like a tidal wave.
I cry out Marc’s name and pull him deep inside me.
As I cling to Marc, sweat prickling my forehead, I expect him to take a few more strokes and make us both come. But instead he pulls out and turns me over onto my hands and knees, caressing my backside with his large, strong palm.
My skin is tingling all over and his hand feels so good.
Marc lines himself up between my legs. He teases me for a moment, circling his hardness between my legs.
I let out a low moan.
‘Open your legs. Wider.’
‘Marc. Please …’
‘I thought we’d already cleared up who was in charge today,’ Marc whispers, his fingers tightening in my hair. ‘You, Mrs Blackwell, will do exactly what I tell you. Now open your legs.’
Obligingly I move my knees apart and feel Marc’s hardness just where I want him. But he moves back.
‘Marc,’ I beg. ‘Please don’t tease me.’
‘If I wanted to tease you I’d do a lot worse than this,’ Marc growls. ‘Now Mrs Blackwell. Clear something up for me. Do I have something you want?’
‘Yes
,’ I stammer.
‘And are you going to do what I tell you?’
‘Yes.’
‘Good. Keep perfectly still. I don’t want you to move a muscle. I won’t be accused of tiring you out.’
‘I’ll try,’ I say, feeling the bed sway beneath me.
‘You won’t try,’ Marc growls. ‘You’ll do.’
He plunges himself inside me and I let out a long, loud moan.
The bed ripples under my hands and knees and I sway with Marc, up down, up down.
‘Oh god.’
Marc’s hand moves around to the most sensitive, warm part of my body, right between my legs, and I let out a gasp as his finger begins to circle.
‘Marc. Oh god Marc!’
‘Don’t move.’
Marc settles into a steady rhythm, slow and deep at first. And then faster and faster until the bed is swishing and swaying and I’m moaning louder and louder.
As he moves deeper inside me I feel an orgasm building up.
‘Marc I—’
Marc pulls my hair so tight that my head moves with him. ‘I know. You’re about to come.’
He drops my head so it falls limply towards the bed, grabs my hips with both hands and plunges so deeply inside me that I fall forwards onto the pillow.
‘Marc. Oh Marc.’
I come so deeply that for a few seconds I see nothing but red spots. I feel Marc still inside me and hear his moans as he comes too.
I lay flat on the soft water bed with Marc’s weight on top of me, his hips pressing against my buttocks.
Then I feel Marc’s strong fingers move my hair aside and his lips bury themselves against my neck.
‘You, Mrs Blackwell, are the best thing I’ve ever had in my life. Do you know that?’
I smile into the pillow. ‘Had in what way?’
‘In every way. But specifically I was talking about my ownership of you in marriage.’
‘Ownership?’ I know he’s teasing, but I can’t help rising to it.
‘Yes. Ownership. As I told you before, you’re mine now. All mine. And I have the legal documents to prove it.’
He finds my hand and pulls it to his lips, kissing my wedding finger. ‘And then there’s this, of course. The symbol of my ownership on your lovely finger.’
‘Then I must own you too,’ I say, reaching down and finding Marc’s wedding hand. I turn his ring round and round, then slide my fingers between his.
‘Yes you do.’
He squeezes my hand.
My eyes wander to the contraption in the corner.
‘So we never got around to using my surprise.’
‘If you’re going out tonight, we can save that for another day. I promised I wouldn’t tire you out.’
‘Actually I do feel pretty tired.’
Marc strokes my hair. ‘Then sleep.’
‘But I’ve got this … cocktail thing. I can’t let Nadia down.’
‘Yes, you can.’
‘No I can’t Marc.’ I slide out from under him and he rolls back onto the swaying water bed then props himself on one elbow.
‘You’re going to wear yourself out,’ he says, his voice just touching anger. ‘You’re already tired. Nadia won’t mind. I promise you.’
‘You know me,’ I say softly. ‘You know I’d never let anyone down. Not when I’ve made a promise.’
‘That’s what I was afraid you’d say.’ Marc pulls himself up and sits beside me. He slides his arm around my shoulder. ‘So my ploy didn’t work.’
‘What ploy?’
‘My ploy to entice you to stay here with me. And not go out tonight.’
‘You don’t really mean that, do you? You weren’t really … I mean, you didn’t take me up here to try and convince me to stay in?’
‘Most certainly.’
‘Nice try.’
‘It wasn’t bad, was it?’ Marc’s arm drops and he touches his forehead to mine. ‘But seriously. If you’re going out, take it easy okay? Home early. No cocktails—’
‘Marc, of course not!’
‘And home by nine.’ He strokes hair from my face.
‘Nine?’ I check my watch. ‘That’ll barely give me half an hour. Come on Marc, I’m supposed to be making friends with the cast and crew. Not checking in for a few minutes.’
‘Fine. Ten o’clock.’
‘You’re saying that like you have control of my timetable.’
Marc pulls me to him. ‘I am well aware, Mrs Blackwell, that I have no control of your schedule. In fact, I have absolutely no control of you whatsoever when it comes to your career. I shall have to console myself with the fact that in the bedroom you still let me take charge once in a while.’
‘Once in a while?’ I laugh.
Marc gives me a playful slap on the behind. ‘Get dressed Mrs Blackwell. Your public awaits.’
‘I’m really not sure I want to see Sigourney again,’ I admit. ‘But it’ll be nice to see the others.’
‘Don’t worry about her. Her bark’s worse than her bite. She’s just a messed up little girl in a grown-ups body.’
I feel that pang again. In my stomach. Part jealousy, part sadness. I hate that Marc has a past. But he’s right – I’ll be working with Sigourney a long time. I need to learn not to tense up whenever Marc talks about her.
‘Hey.’ Marc takes my chin in his fingers. ‘Only you, okay? It’s only ever been you. Remember that?’
‘I’ll try.’
35
Marc drives me to the Peacock Lounge, but doesn’t accompany me inside.
‘I’ll pick you up at ten,’ he says, fixing me with those intense eyes of his. ‘Don’t be late out Mrs Blackwell. Or I might have to put you over my knee.’
I throw him pretend innocent eyes. ‘You wouldn’t do that, would you?’
His lips curl into a smile. ‘I would.’
‘Maybe I’ll be late then …’
I kiss him lightly on the lips, but Marc pulls me to him and kisses me hard.
For a moment I’m lost in him, barely able to pull away. But I manage it.
‘I have to do this. Okay? I know you’d rather I stay home.’
‘How did you guess?’
‘Oh just female intuition.’ I smile. ‘Look, I get it. I know you care about me. I know you want me to rest. And I know I haven’t made the best choices in the past. I’ve worn myself out. I’ve been stupid. I’m lucky to have your trust. But believe me Marc,’ my hands drop to my stomach, ‘our baby could be inside here. I’m as anxious as you to play it safe.’
Marc takes my hand and puts his palm to mine, watching my hand as he dances it up and down. ‘I know. It’s just hard. When you love someone so much.’
The Peacock Lounge is by the River Thames, with a panoramic window overlooking the water.
Bright blue lights illuminate the bar and red velvet chairs are dotted around.
I see Leo, Baz, Ruby and Sigourney sitting with Nadia and the crew by the window. The girls sip cocktails, while Leo and Baz drink beer.
As I walk towards the table, I feel the bar crowd watching me.
I hear murmurs.
‘Is it her? I think that’s … Sophia Rose. Is that the girl from Beauty and the Beast?’
I smile shyly, muttering ‘excuse me’ as I weave through.
Before I reach the table, Leo leaps to his feet.
‘Sophia!’ He pushes through the crowd and grabs my arm. ‘You made it. There was a fuck up. This should have been a private party, but the bar mixed the dates. It was packed when we got here. So we’re doing the goldfish bowl thing – sitting with everyone staring at us. Not much we can do about it now.’
He steers me through the gawping crowd and sits me at the table.
‘Hey.’ Leo taps a cameraman on the shoulder. ‘Mind if we switch? Sophia and I have some catching up to do.’
As I sit, I feel Sigourney glaring at me across the table. But when I turn to her, she puts on a big fake smile.
‘Sophia!’
she calls, taking a sip of some clear, bubbly drink with artistically cut lemon slices in it. ‘How are you? How’s Marc?’
‘We’re good,’ I say, as calmly as I can manage.
‘Honey bunch!’ Nadia moves her chair next to mine. ‘I am SO sorry about this mess. None of these people should be here.’ She waves her hand at the crowd. ‘But the bar made a mistake. They double booked. I didn’t want someone to get fired so I just said … okay! We’ll work with this. All right?’
‘It’s fine,’ I say, managing a smile.
‘It bloody isn’t,’ Sigourney shouts, taking another sip of her drink. ‘I fucking hate members of the public. Always wanting a piece of you.’
‘Do you want a drink?’ Nadia asks me, ignoring Sigourney’s comment. ‘Oh wait! No cocktail for you, right?’ She winks.
I glance around the table, hoping no one else heard and is putting two and two together.
Sigourney watches me carefully, an eyebrow raised in thought.
36
‘Just an orange juice for me,’ I say quietly.
‘Oh we can do better than that!’ says Nadia. ‘This is the best cocktail lounge in London. They do all sorts of virgin drinks. Here.’
She grabs a red-velvet bound menu and flicks through. ‘Ah ha! Perfect for you. Vanilla Chocolate Malt without the vodka. You like hot chocolate right?’
I smile, a little embarrassed. ‘I’m a child at heart. How did you know I liked hot chocolate?’
‘Marc called the movie caterer this morning. To check if there was any hot chocolate for you. And to personally order some for tomorrow.’
‘Vanilla Chocolate Malt sounds great,’ I say. ‘Thank you.’
Nadia slaps the menu closed and clicks her finger at the waiter.
‘Hey!’ Sigourney calls across the table. ‘If you’re ordering, I’ll have another.’ She taps her half-full glass.
‘Someone’s drinking quickly,’ Nadia whispers.
‘Soph.’ Leo grabs my hand. ‘Listen – you know about Sigourney and Marc by now. Right? I mean, he told you all about it. Didn’t he?’
‘Yes.’ My stomach turns over. ‘I wish someone had told me before though. I felt like an idiot.’
‘I would have but … it just didn’t seem relevant to anything. I mean, Sigourney has hardly been short of high-profile boyfriends. The Hollywood crowd … there are so many matches. You’d get dizzy if you tried to remember all of them.’
