Adrian was toying with her clamped nipple, teasing it, stroking it. She writhed, sensation exploding through her body. The guttural moan she made felt like it ripped out the back of her throat.
Then he moved to her other breast and Kate swallowed, breathless. Even under normal circumstances, this was her more sensitive nipple…
From the expression in Adrian’s eyes, he had included that fact in his calculations and now he was watching her face, enjoying her anticipation.
He slowly lowered his head to her breast, his teeth bared.
She gave a small cry as he fastened onto her nipple, for his thumb swiped over the clamped nipple at the same time.
Her eyes drifted shut. This was a purified torture. He teased and stroked and sucked, his teeth and tongue sensitizing the nipple to the point of pain. Then he attached the clamp.
Kate realized she was wriggling, her hips jerking, because she was teetering on the edge of orgasm.
As Adrian lowered his head to her newly clamped nipple she gripped the cuffs about her wrists, her hips shifting, her clit pulsing and her pussy clamping down hard in anticipation. She was so close. She needed only the barest nudge. She quivered on the brink.
His tongue swirled over the tip of her nipple and she gasped. It was electric. Dazzling. She almost wept with the need to come, but it wasn’t enough.
She could see him smiling as his lips hovered over her breast.
He dipped his head and licked her nipple again…only this time, his hand swept through her cleft, his fingers nudging her clit, in four delicate bumps. She was tipped over into a glorious, silvered orgasm that slithered through her, making her groan and shudder.
His lips kept working down her body, giving her no time to recover. Kate lay panting, trying to follow where he was going, and twitching each time his tongue or mouth touched a sensitive spot.
The tip of his tongue swept over the indentation next to her hip bone and she hissed, her hips lifting. He pushed his hands beneath the back of her hips. “Thank you,” he murmured. He kissed her navel, keeping her pelvis tilted forward with his hands.
He slid his tongue directly down her abdomen, a straight trail and she caught her breath again as the trail ended at the top of her slit.
Adrian pushed her thighs further apart and stroked the flesh on the inside, as if he was anticipating his own tasty feast. There was a tiny smile lingering on his lips that spoke of more plans.
“Adrian–”
“The only sounds to come from your mouth should be formless and wordless,” he warned. He spread her nether lips with his thumbs, exposing her swollen and throbbing clit.
“Nirvana,” he breathed. He bent and sucked her clit into his mouth, his tongue teasing it in hard unmerciful strokes.
She came inside sixty seconds, with a hard cry that pulled from her belly. But Adrian didn’t stop. Even as she shuddered through the climax, his big fingers thrust into her vagina – deep, rigid and flexing to stroke the muscled walls. They twisted and turned inside her slick channel, so that all her nerve endings were teased and petted.
Kate snatched at the air, her breath barely recovered, as her body quivered and climbed toward another orgasm. Everything was tingling, even her lungs as she drew in oxygen.
Her climax didn’t explode over her this time. It arrived between one long held breath and the next, breaking like the top of a wave. And it seemed to last for longer than she had ever felt a climax linger.
But still Adrian didn’t stop.
Even as the climax gripped her, his big fingers shifted inside her. For a fraction of a second, they slid from her, down across her perineum, to rim her anus. She tensed in pleasurable anticipation, as the hypersensitive nerves jumped and quivered.
Then he slid a finger inside her.
She groaned.
Another one, slippery with her moisture, joined the first, stretching her.
Then more fingers were inside her vagina, thrusting deep.
His mouth lifted from her clit, with one last lick at the top of her slit.
And his thumb replaced his mouth, and began to tease in hard, pressured strokes.
Kate cried out with the little breath she had left. He wasn’t giving her time to settle to the sensation of fullness that she so loved, and could never get enough of. She was being overwhelmed.
Too fast, too much.
The climax tore at her throat. She would have screamed if she’d had the breath for it, but it had caught her so unprepared, so fast, she arched, her mouth open, the pleasure leaving her suspended with empty lungs, waiting to draw breath.
She fell back on the bed, panting.
Adrian was smiling.
Kate shook her head.
“Yes,” he refuted, straightening up. “This time, you take me.”
She didn’t think it was possible for her body to respond at all, but he had brought her to such a fever pitch, her clit and her pussy – her entire cleft – gave out a massive throb at the thought.
Adrian once again spread her thighs. He drew his fingertips gently through her cleft. She was very wet and his fingers glided without resistance, making her squirm at his touch.
His cock was jutting from his thighs at rigid attention, red and almost purple at the tips of the head, seemingly angry with lack of attention. Kate wondered where he intended to put it. Anywhere was fine by her as long as it was soon. She was a twitching mass of sensitivity and she wanted to be fucked properly.
He reached between her legs again, but the expected touch didn’t come immediately. He lifted up his hand again, showing her what he held. It was a butt plug, and it was a big one.
She drew in a deep breath. Now she knew what he intended to do with her. Her whole body leapt with excitement.
“Oh, you do like it,” he breathed. He pushed the plug up against her anus, letting the ring of muscle open naturally, taking it in. He had already lubricated the plug, and she had already been stretched by him, but the plug was bigger. It widened her, and pushed inside, spreading her, filling her.
When it was fully seated, she moaned. It was larger than anything she had ever taken, and now Adrian was going to fuck her, too.
He bent and sucked her nipples, one at a time.
Kate forgot about size, about discomfort, about any of it. Bolts of pure excitement channelled directly to her clit, made even more deeply pleasurable by the plug inside her.
Then Adrian’s cock slide slowly, inexorably, into her pussy.
“Oh sweet Jesus, Adrian…” she murmured, opening her eyes and looking up at him as he leaned over her.
It was the greatest sensation ever, she decided. Well, the best she had experienced to date. She could get addicted to this way too easily.
Adrian gave a slow smile, as he settled on his elbows over her. “Whatever happened to ‘I can only come once’?”
She laughed. “Fuck me. God, just fuck me.”
He kissed her, taking his time about it. His tongue swept across hers, sweet and honeyed. She gave herself up to the kiss, to every sensation he wanted to provide.
He kissed the tip of her nose. “You’re squeezing me like a vice. Anyone would think you like this.”
“Hate it.” Her voice was ragged. Used and smoky.
Adrian levered himself upright, his cock staying inside her. “I’d better get this over with, if you hate it so much.” He grabbed her hips and lifted her, as he settled on his knees.
The movement pushed him even deeper into her. She caught her breath.
“There’s more where that came from,” he promised, his own voice rough with arousal.
He thrust, a slow controlled movement, and Kate caught her breath again. This was…oh, this was so much better than just straight sex, or even sex with a standard butt plug. She clutched at the cuffs, feeling the surge of another climax starting to build. Then she realized…her clit wasn’t being stimulated. It was just Adrian’s cock, and the monster plug, and she was starting to hyperventilate as the climax ru
shed at her.
She arched hard, as the pleasure build. “Faster,” she begged, with a moan. “Deeper.”
“Christos,” Adrian muttered. His fingers were digging into her hips as he thrust hard and deep, as requested, his cock ramming into her in fasts, rhythmic strokes that made her pussy walls clench and quiver. “Come for me, Kate. Come on. I can see you’re there.”
She hovered on the brink for endless heartbeats, feeling the enormous groundswell of pleasure about to break over her, her breath, her pulse, and her thoughts held waiting for it to burst and shower her with the thrilling spasms.
When it did, she could finally breathe. She drew in a breath and screamed, a low pitched, deep and lung burning sound.
Adrian leaned forward and gripped her shoulder for leverage and pumped harder, faster. Abruptly, he arched and grew still as he came, the tendons in his neck straining. He fell against her and for a moment his lips rested against the nape of her neck, moving restlessly. Then he turned his head away and lay, recovering, his body not quite resting on hers.
“I didn’t pass out,” Kate whispered.
He turned his head to look at her. He smiled. It was a small smile. “I’ll have to keep tweaking the formula. Something wicked will do it for you. We’ll just have to keep practicing.”
She laughed again, and this time it was deliciously free of tension. Any tension at all. Sleep was going to come oh, so easy tonight.
Chapter Twenty
Kate’s buoyant mood lasted until they reached the shooting site the next evening. Not even the burnt bacon for breakfast managed to dislodge her upbeat attitude. She just knew they were going to nail the filming that night.
Until they reached the site and she found her chair, just behind the main camera.
There was something wrong with the set-up she had got used to. She looked around at the names stencilled on the back of the canvas fold-up chairs. Hers, with “Kate” rather than the impossible-to-fit “Lindenstream.” The DP’s chair, which he never used. The AD’s chair, which was also rarely used.
Then it clicked into place. Those two chairs were always in a line up with a third.
Garrett’s. Garrett’s chair was missing.
Kate waved her P.A. over. “Where’s Garrett?”
Brittany curled her lip over her big front teeth and clutched the clipboard to her chest. “Um…”
“He’s here? On site?”
Brittany nodded. “That’s okay, isn’t it? You only banned him for the one night?”
Kate realized she was scowling and lightened up. “It’s fine. I just wanted to know where he was so I didn’t trip over him accidentally. His chair has gone.”
“Yeah, he moved it back with the other sponsors. He said you’d prefer it that way.” Brittany smiled, relieved that her news would be received as good news, not bad.
“Thanks, Brittany,” Kate told her. “See if you can scrounge me up a really cold iced tea, would you?” Kate knew there was no such species to be found anywhere on the set, but it would keep Brittany occupied for twenty minutes, at least.
As soon as Brittany has moved beyond earshot, Kate walked around the second and third cameras, to where the sponsors got to sit for their ringside view if they chose to venture out on set to see how their money was being spent.
Garrett was sitting on the edge of his chair, leaning forward, his arms on his knees, talking to the guy in the chair next to him, some California business entrepreneur. They were laughing and joking.
But Garrett spotted Kate heading in their direction and got to his feet and walked toward her, putting distance between him and the businessman.
“I know what you’re going to say—”
“Do you?” she said. “Then you know how to read the future because I’m not sure even I know what to say.”
“I won’t fuck up your movie, Kate.” His voice was low and deep with determination. His gaze was steady on her face, as if he was watching her to ensure she got the point. “I won’t be the one to ruin it for you.”
Anger touched her. “How dare you be…decent about this.”
“You want me to be a bastard about it?” He tilted his head. One brow lifted. Just a little.
“Yes! I wanted you to be a complete jerk! Then I could have tossed you from the set, the camp and got you the fuck out of my life! Christ, Garrett.” She gripped her elbows with her hands, fighting for calm. “I thought I had this under control until I saw you walking toward me just now.” She bit her lip and stopped herself from saying anything else. Before the truth gushed out.
She wanted him just as badly as she had last night when he’d been bent over her, his lips an inch from hers.
More.
Despite the night of outrageous sex and tenderness in Adrian’s arms, she was right back to wanting Garrett with a queer sort of ache in her belly and between her legs, as soon as she saw him. Her chest felt heavy and her limbs weak. It was a text-book case of overwhelming lust.
Garrett was studying her face as she spoke, but then he flicked his gaze away, checking around them with a guilty look, as if he had been staring for too long. His blue eyes settled back on her. How long ago had they become the familiar eyes of a friend to her? When had she stopped thinking of him as an enemy? This was DoveAngel in front of her, not the prick of a sponsor who had held her movie hostage.
“Would it help if I told you I got no sleep?” he asked. “That I spent my time imagining what might have been if Annette hadn’t arrived when she did?”
Her gut tightened and her heart seemed to squeeze all by itself. “No…Calum, why say that?” she demanded.
“It’s true.” His voice was flat. “And you look like you need the moral support of a partner in crime.”
“You mean a partner in guilt.” She grimaced, not liking the taste in her mouth. She turned to leave. “Thanks for nothing, Garrett.”
He caught her arm. “Kate.”
She pulled her arm out of his grip. “Don’t be melodramatic. It doesn’t play well, even on celluloid.”
“You know where to find me,” he said, behind her.
“Everyone does,” she agreed.
“Not after tomorrow,” he called.
She almost stumbled. Of course, the location shooting finished tomorrow, and they moved back to the studio for four weeks of interior and studio shooting, before early editing and the first round of pick-ups began.
Where would Garrett be, after tomorrow? She had no idea. Would he follow the movie to the studio? Or would he go home to Boston? Or something else?
She headed back to camera 1, her mind and body in turmoil.
* * * * *
Just after midnight, Adrian surprised her with a visit.
It was unusual for him to come to the set. He had stuck around for the first few days of filming, but after that he had begged off, bored out of his brain. He had found more useful and helpful things to do back at the base camp. Kate found it a better arrangement to not have him around her 24-7, too. It fuelled more speculation about his role in her life, and it kept him less accessible for the power mongers on the set, who would use him as a step ladder to Kate.
Every now and again, he would arrive unannounced, though – sometimes with gifts for her: Once he had brought a picnic lunch which they had eaten in a sandy dell far enough away from everyone else on the set. Dessert had been sex on the checkered cloth, before he had returned her to the set for the afternoon’s filming while everyone wore stupid grins on their faces and tried not to smile wisely.
Tonight, he had both hands pushed deep into the leather bomber jacket he wore, and the sleeves pushed up his muscular forearms, as he stood waiting for the take to finish. When it was in the can, Kate glanced at her watch, then at the AD, who looked at his watch and lifted his megaphone. “Forty-five minutes meal-break people! And that means forty-five minutes, not fifty. See you back here at twelve fifty on the dot, thank you!”
The tension that normally held the set immediately evaporate
d as everyone relaxed and abruptly began talking to each other as they turned in two thousand different directions, heading away from the set, toward food, private spots, or just simply away.
Adrian drifted between people, over to where she stood.
“Hey,” she said, pleased to see him.
“Hi. Got a minute to talk?”
“I have forty-five of them. Forty-four,” she amended.
“I don’t need that long,” he told her, looking around.
“You’re not staying?”
“Is there somewhere more private?” he asked.
“Why?”
He just looked at her. Kate frowned, realizing that he hadn’t once smiled since he had arrived. He hadn’t touched her, or given any overt signs of friendliness or pleasantness.
Her heart gave out a pang. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“You really want to do this here?” he replied.
“Give it another forty seconds, and the set will be more deserted than a graveyard,” she assured him. “We’ll be as private here as the trailer. Perhaps more so. You never know who is listening outside my door, and there are no doors here.”
He didn’t even attempt to try a smile at her joke.
“So what’s going on?” she pressed.
“I was going to ask you that.”
“Excuse me?”
He pulled his hands from the coat and lifted one. “You, Kate. You’re in a brutal mood. Snapping at everyone, insulting the cast, screaming at the crew. Have you snagged a single decent take since you started, tonight?”
Her momentary surprise was overtaken by a stronger sense of betrayal. Someone on the set had sent a Mayday call to Adrian. “So who was it that ratted me out, huh?” she asked him. “Who decided that little Kate needed her man to calm her down?”
His eyes were unreadable. “It wasn’t like that at all.”
“No? Then how did the call go? ‘Hey, Adrian, buddy, come get your girlfriend to cool her jets, will ya? She’s giving us a tough time, and you can handle her, can’t ya?’ And what did you say? ‘Sure, I get to handle her all the time!’”
Blood Stone Page 24
