by Amy Valenti
Still holding me down with one arm, Callum slid his fingers out of me to rub them over my clit. A whimper of pure need escaped my lips, and his low, sexy laughter combined with his touch was enough to make me quiver.
“You need more convincing, huh?” His tone had changed—he sounded as if he were enjoying my helpless craving. “Don’t worry, Little Miss Badass. I’m not done yet.”
He expertly teased my clit, circling it one minute, brushing a fingertip over it the next, pushing down firmly on my whole pubic mound a second later. I writhed against him, unsure if I was trying to get away or get off. I was so angry, so frustrated, yet so completely mesmerised by his touches that I would have done anything for him to continue.
Tense and trembling, I teetered on the brink of orgasm…but then lost it again. I half wailed my disappointment, and he laughed. “Are you sorry yet?”
He’d done that on purpose? “Motherfucker!”
Callum withdrew his fingers the instant the curse left my lips. “Now there’s something new you have to apologise for. And you will.”
The threat sent a chill through me. By not refusing this when he’d given me the chance, I’d plunged myself into something I might not be able to handle. Worse, his body language suggested that he had no idea what I was going through. That he thought I was just pissed off because I couldn’t take my vacation time.
A hard spank jarred the thoughts from my mind, then another and another until both ass cheeks and the tops of my thighs were aflame. My stomach lurching with fear-fuelled adrenaline, I cried out, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry…”
The spanking immediately ceased and Callum teased my pussy lips open again, gathering moisture and rubbing it over my clit. Again, he’d stopped before he could really hurt me, and I was left at the mercy of his talented fingers touching me right…there… “Oh!”
“Good girl,” he murmured.
A warm glow suffused me at the approval, just a couple of seconds before the climax he’d withheld before rushed up to overwhelm my senses. My whole body flooded with tingling sensation that rippled out from my pussy, the spasming heat of my internal muscles seizing my breath and stealing my rational thought. I shuddered through the orgasm, held steady over Callum’s lap, and somewhere above me I thought I heard him whisper a curse, my name, some words I couldn’t unscramble my brain enough to comprehend.
The tide receded as I panted in his arms. He leaned down over me, pulling up my panties and jeans with one hand and holding me steady with the other.
With the afterglow came the sick realisation of what had just happened. What I’d allowed him to do to me, even though I’d sworn I’d never go back to that.
Using all my strength, I shoved against his thigh, staggering upright on trembling legs and turning my back on him so I could button up my jeans.
Callum stepped up close behind me, his body heat seeping through the back of my shirt. I held myself rigid, determined not to melt back against him, and screwed my eyes tightly shut.
He didn’t put his arms around me or do anything else to impede my escape, should I try to make it. That was the only reason I managed not to struggle.
“Breathe,” he ordered softly.
Until he’d said it, I hadn’t realised I’d been holding my breath. I let it out in a rush, sucked in a fresh breath gratefully. I should have been terrified of him, especially after what had just happened. Why wasn’t I?
“That’s it.”
His lips brushed the nape of my neck—slow, deliberate kisses that made my panties flood again. Despite my inner turmoil, I lowered my head to give him better access, sighing with pleasure when he hit a spot that made my toes curl.
“God, you’re amazing, Kat. I want to take you to the edge where pain and pleasure blur into one sensation. I want to see how deep your need to submit goes. I want to put my collar around your neck and hold onto it while we come together.”
A whimper escaped my throat, a tidal wave of longing almost obliterating my newly reawakened fear.
“Kneel for me, Kat.”
I wanted to, so badly. But kneeling was just the first step on the road to disaster…or to the hospital. Sickened by my own weakness, I used the jolt of adrenaline in my bloodstream to stumble towards the door of the trailer.
“You may have manipulated me into following your orders on the job, Mr. Connors, but that’s as far as it goes. I will meet you on set just before three and we can discuss your needs for the afternoon, but I am not your damn submissive.”
Proud of the strength in my voice, despite how much my composure had crumbled, I walked out. As I turned to close the trailer door behind me, I just caught his response.
“Correction, Little Miss Badass. You’re not my damn submissive yet.”
* * * *
Callum
An hour had ticked by since Kat had fled the trailer, her hair mussed and her body language defensive.
I’d spent the first few minutes calming down. My physical need to get off had been almost overwhelming, but my mind was too uneasy for me to just jerk off to get some relief. Once I could think straight again, I’d started pulling apart what had just happened, exactly what I was so unsettled about.
I’d often dealt with subdrop after a scene, although I’d never been unable to convince a submissive to stay for some aftercare before. This had seemed more than that. The moment she’d regained her senses after her beautiful orgasm, she’d been frantic to get some distance from me. Usually I would have held a submissive, talked to her about the scene and how she’d found it, but with Kat I’d gotten a strong sense that she didn’t want to be held.
She’d loosened up as I’d kissed her neck, a soft sigh making me smile as she’d tilted her head to give me more room to work. But when I’d asked her to kneel for me, she’d gone right back to her initial wariness, hadn’t even been able to bring herself to look at me.
Something told me I’d fucked up, misread her somehow. But it didn’t make sense. If she’d wanted me to stop, she would have told me to stop. Hell, I’d given her an opening to do just that before I’d dragged her across my lap, and she’d cussed me out several times as I’d verbally provoked her, so communication hadn’t been a problem. Although she’d fought me, her body had clearly been aroused, her cunt slick with need and clenching around my fingers with every spank I’d given her. She’d given every sign of wanting to be made to give up control.
And fuck, she’d been responsive as hell when she’d finally accepted she couldn’t break free.
So what am I missing?
I wasn’t sure, but from now on I was going to have to tread more carefully. No more scenes unless I could figure out what had made her run.
Chapter Three
Kat
For the rest of the day, Callum was the picture of professionalism with me. He made no allusions to what had happened in the trailer, or earlier that morning. Though it made me disgusted with myself, I missed his predatory glances and lingering touches as though they were mine by right. My ass was tender and it was all too easy to remember his fingers sliding over me, into me, but I somehow managed to keep it together.
At the end of the day, he came to me with a thin stack of papers. “This is my schedule for the rest of the days I’ll be filming here. I’ll need you to make sure I’m where I’m supposed to be at the appropriate times.”
I glanced through the first couple of pages and bit back a sarcastic comment about him not being able to manage his own workload. It wouldn’t have helped. “I’ll bear that in mind.”
He looked up at the setting sun and sighed. “Okay, I think we’re done for the day. You can head on home and I’ll meet you here in the morning. My cell phone is on there if there’s anything you need.”
I nodded, and he tilted his head to catch my eye. “Anything you need, Little Miss Badass…you call me.”
My heart racing, I scrambled for something appropriate to say. “Thank you, sir.”
The instant the S word was out
of my mouth, I wanted to take it back, especially because he was looking at me as though I’d just given him a very naughty gift.
“I’m gonna head home,” I mumbled awkwardly, and hightailed it away from him.
* * * *
As I drove, his every look, every touch, every nuance of his tone, every word he and I had exchanged spun through my brain. It made no sense that I was drawn to him this way, that he could evoke such a strong craving for the forbidden compared to other men. Maybe he was a vampire for real, and he’d mesmerised me.
“Oh, please,” I said derisively, shaking my head free of the thought as I shut off the car’s engine.
Even after I’d got settled at home, I was still plagued by thoughts of Callum fucking Connors. I took the DVD of One Last Look off the shelf. His image on the cover, while sexy, didn’t do him justice. In the show, he’d made my panties damp. In reality, he made my head spin and my knees want to buckle.
I put the DVD in and watched the first fifteen minutes of the first episode, sipping my wine and following Callum’s performance on the screen. He still set my heart hammering, especially since he was walking around without a shirt in one scene. I wriggled in the chair, wishing like hell that things were different between me and him.
If he hadn’t been into BDSM—had just wanted straight-up, normal sex with me—would I have accepted? My pussy warmed at the thought, and I tilted my head back, closing my eyes and listening to his warm, sensual voice coming from the TV.
He’d made it clear back in the trailer that he wanted to take me, after he’d spanked my ass red and brought me to that explosive climax. I almost felt bad for running out and leaving him with a hard-on. He definitely knew how to get a woman off. Would he be happy with only sleeping with me? With sex without the scary stuff?
I slid my hand into my panties and pressed on my clit, tilting my hips slightly into the touch.
Anything you need…
Oh, I needed, all right.
I pushed aside images of myself kneeling in front of him, or being tied to my bed at his mercy, though the ideas made my pussy clench with need. No. You can’t have that. Think of other things.
I imagined him pressing me back against the wall, kissing me over and over, one hand in my panties and the other under my shirt, teasing and tormenting me until I pleaded for release. The memory of his scent just added to the sensual picture I was conjuring up, and I stroked my pussy, coating my clit in my juices with a soft moan. He would lift me, wrap my legs around his waist and carry me to the bedroom, tear off my clothing piece by piece as he lay beside me, kissing every piece of flesh he exposed.
Then he’d cuff my hands to the headboard and…
“No!” I groaned to myself, trying to control the surge of excitement that ran through me at the thought of being restrained. But my body was responding too enthusiastically for me to deny the fantasy, my nipples tingling and my fingers soaked with my arousal. I’d already let him spank me today—one little fantasy wouldn’t hurt now.
Callum would restrain me and slap my ass over and over again until I ground my clit against the bed and begged for mercy. Then he’d make me support my weight on my elbows and knees while he slid into me from behind, all the way in until he couldn’t go any farther. He’d grab my hips and take me hard, use me for his pleasure and demand that I hold my inevitable climax until he gave me permission to come…
I writhed in the chair, two fingers in my pussy, my thumb on my clit, my other hand pinching one of my nipples through my shirt. God, I wanted him to do all these things to me and more. What had he said? He wanted to put a collar around my neck and hold onto it while we came together?
It was too much for me to bear, and I climaxed in quick, fluttering pulses of ecstatic exertion, trembling through my aftershocks breathlessly.
Then I burst into tears.
* * * *
Callum
Kat was short with me the next morning, sparing me no more energy than she absolutely had to give me to do her job. She looked as though she hadn’t had much sleep, which wasn’t surprising, given the situations I’d thrust her into yesterday.
I hadn’t slept much myself. She’d kept appearing in my thoughts, her image scowling defensively, then melting into my arms when I’d imagined touching her. Yesterday’s urgent, chemistry-filled kiss kept playing back through my mind—how she’d given a tiny moan of inevitability as she’d stopped fighting me, her body moulded to mine, her fingers in my hair. Then later, the way she’d ground her clit against my fingers as she’d come, her ass red from my spanks, her panting breaths hot against the leg of my jeans.
My reality right this second was completely different. I was in the makeup chair, enduring Marcia’s fussing. Faintly, I could hear Kat chatting and laughing with one of the male runners outside, so I was reasonably sure she was stonewalling me in particular.
I emerged from the trailer, my eyes adjusting to the glaring sunlight just in time for me to see Kat saying goodbye to the runner, then turning to me with a blank expression. “Ready? Darren wants to start shooting in ten minutes.”
“Darren can kiss my ass,” I muttered, but followed her across to the soundstage without a fight. Was it my imagination, or had that made her smile just a little?
“Can I go to the workshop while you’re filming, please, and you can text me when you’re done?” she asked as she held the door open for me—having been too far ahead for me to get to the door first.
I considered her request. “On an ongoing basis, or just today?”
She opened her mouth, then shut it again. We’d walked a good thirty feet before she answered, with an air of defeat, “Just today?”
“That’s fine. Give me your cell number so I can contact you when I finish.”
She waited for me to get out my phone, then rattled off the number. “Thank you,” she added grudgingly. “If I’d said ‘from now on’, what would you have said?”
“That you’re my damn assistant and I need you nearby, especially since I’m doing fight scenes later in the week.”
“Oh, and you need me to mop your brow between takes?” she shot over her shoulder at me.
“Amongst other things.” My mouth was ahead of my brain, and we both fell silent, our respective imaginations throwing out tantalising possibilities.
“You don’t actually need an assistant at all, do you?” she demanded, spinning to face me and walking backwards. No matter what the issue, you did not keep a director waiting—this we both understood.
I might as well be honest with her. “For the most part, not really.”
She threw up her hands in silent supplication to an undefined deity. “So you’re just wasting my time for your own amusement, is that it? Making me run around after you and hoping I’ll just find you so sexually irresistible that I’ll beg for you to throw me down and make me a woman?”
There was no point in getting into this argument when I’d need to be filming within a couple of minutes. “One: you’re already a woman. And two: if you really want to have this conversation, we’re gonna need a hell of a lot longer than ten minutes and considerably more privacy than this, so I suggest you drop it for now, Little Miss Badass.”
Kat glowered. “Will you quit calling me that?”
“If you stop giving me the badass routine, I’ll consider it.”
“I think I have a right to be pissed off at you for what you’ve pulled. By your own admission, you don’t need an assistant, so what possible reason could you have except to fuck with my life? Because nobody turns down the sexual advances of Callum goddamn Connors and gets away with it…”
I should have been way more annoyed than I was. Instead, I was enjoying myself. Not many people gave me hell these days, not even when I deserved it.
Lowering my voice, I told her, “The way I remember it, there were a good few minutes where your body was pretty much begging for it, though my memory could be a little fuzzy from the way you were rubbing yourself all over my cock
, or pushing back to take my fingers deeper—”
“Oh, fuck you!” Her voice was three times as loud as mine had been, and we’d just arrived on set. Everyone looked up to see where the cursing had come from, and Kat’s face immediately flamed crimson. She shot me a dark look but refrained from saying anything further.
Darren stalked over to us. “Is there a problem here, Callum?”
“Yes,” Kat muttered under her breath, the word audible only to me.
“No,” I said at the same time.
He didn’t even look at Kat, all of his focus on placating me. “If you need a less…boisterous assistant, let me know. This one hasn’t trained to work with actors, so her manner might be a little undesirable.”
I imagined telling him I found her manner so desirable I was considering dragging her back to my trailer to be exposed to more of it—preferably while we were both naked—and had to bite down on a grin.
Kat’s hands balled into fists, and she stared at the floor between us, waiting for…what? For me to get her fired? Maybe that was what she was hoping for. Well, tough. We were gonna talk this through later, and I needed to have a certain amount of authority over her to get her to stay put and listen to what I had to say.
“She’s fine. We just have opposing views on a couple of points. We’ll iron out our problems later, won’t we, Kat?”
“Of course, Mr. Connors,” she said politely, but her gaze was fiery.
Darren hesitated, then shrugged. “Your call. We start shooting in two minutes, so let’s get focused, okay?”
He moved off as conversation amongst the rest of the milling cast and crew members resumed, leaving Kat and me to stare at each other.
“You can head to the workshop now, but the moment you get my text, I want you back at my side. Is that clear?” I said quietly. I’d won this round and she knew it; there was no need to rub it in.
