(For His Pleasure 14) With His Belief (5 page)

“I spent half of the day wandering around the amusement park by myself, and the afternoon helping some PA run errands for Eliza and Dale and anyone else who asked.”

He looked at her evenly. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you more to do. This was the first day of shooting, Scarlett. I’m barely keeping my head above water, here.”

“I know that. Both of us are barely keeping our heads above water.” She held onto the collar of her shirt, hiking it up so that her breasts weren’t so clearly showing anymore. “Do you really think that two drowning people should be clinging to one another?”

He came towards her again. “I think that’s exactly what drowning people do.

They cling to each other.” He grabbed her arms again. “They hold onto one another and don’t let go. Because that’s the best chance of survival.” His eyes stared into hers again.

Her resistance started to weaken. Just the feel of his hands on her arms made her moisten, yearning for his hands, his skin, his lips and tongue again. “Are you trying to play games with me, Bryson? Does that kind of thing get you off?”

His expression darkened. “No. Does it get you off?”

She hesitated. “I don’t know.”

“Well, what does get you off then?”

“Everything you do to me,” she admitted.

He smiled slyly. “Then what’s the problem?”

“I think you know exactly what the problem is.”

“You’re right,” he said. “I just don’t fucking care.” And then he was ripping at her shirt again. This time he actually tore it down the middle, so that it hung open like some cheap vest. He began licking her nipples again. His teeth would sometimes close on them momentarily, digging in just enough to cause a slight spike of pain—but it was brief. She cried out, mostly in pleasure.

His hands were on her waist, pulling her close to him.

His tongue and lips on her nipples were stimulating them so much that she was about to come, just like he’d done to her the first time they’d been together.

Her breath came out in shuddering, quivering gasps.

“You like this, Scarlett. You like it and yet you fight it for some reason.” He smiled. “But that’s okay. I like it when you fight.”

He suddenly unzipped her jeans, dropping down to his knees as she stood there, unable to resist what he was doing.

Bryson’s breath was hot against her lace panties, and for a time he just seemed to be looking at what was in front of him.

“Damn, you’re sexy,” he whispered. “I can fucking smell you—it’s sweet and I remember how good you tasted. I couldn’t stop thinking about how fucking good you tasted last time. Do you remember that?”

“Yes,” she said. It was true, of course. And she wanted his mouth on her again, so intimate, so knowledgeable, as if they’d been together for years.

Somehow, when she and Bryson were together, it was the best of both worlds.

She felt simultaneously known, as if they’d been lovers forever, and then she also felt the excitement of being with someone new and mysterious and altogether different than any man from the past.

Bryson was addictive, she thought, as he teased her now, using his fingers to gently slide her panties to the side, enabling him to see her slick, bare pussy. “Look at that,” he admired. “Do you want me to lick it, Scarlett?”

“Yes.” Her legs shook.

He grabbed her jeans and pulled them down to the floor, around her ankles.

“Good,” he said. “Because I’m going to lick that fucking pussy, Scarlett. I can’t help myself.” He pulled the panties aside and then ever so gently, he touched his tongue to the very top of her slit.

“I think I’m going to come,” she cried out. It was embarrassing, but she certainly couldn’t hide it from Bryson.

In response, his tongue slid down the length of her slit, stroking up and down, increasing the energy that was already flowing through her pussy.

She threw her head back and closed her eyes, willing herself not to come yet. He wanted to make her come fast, he wanted to prove his total control over her every emotion.

And for some reason, she was determined not to just roll over and let him know that he owned her, that she was totally and utterly powerless to control herself in his presence.

Her will somehow won out. She clenched her teeth so hard that she got lightheaded, but the urge to come passed.

She exhaled, glad to know she still retained some kind of discipline from all her years in the BDSM culture.

But Bryson had hardly even begun to work on her. His tongue swept up and down the length of her privates, and soon the warmth and wetness were creating waves of new pleasure sensations that echoed out through her entire body.

The moans and groans that escaped her lips were practically inhuman.

He had begun to suck her pussy, spreading her lips and fucking her with his tongue. She spread her legs as wide as she could, but the jeans were holding her ankles together. Bryson pulled one of the pant legs loose, allowing her to spread herself as wide as she needed to.

Her back and buttocks were pressed hard against the wall, and she used it for leverage.

She pressed her pelvis towards him, arching her back, breasts tilting towards the ceiling as he pulled her into him. His hands gripped her buttocks, his mouth was working into her, and she was dripping, she was wet and he was so good. He was better than any man she’d ever been with, and he knew her body as though he’d been given a map.

But before she could come, he stopped. “Get on your hands and knees,” he commanded. He pointed to the floor in front of him.

Scarlett’s heart started beating even faster. Without uttering a word, she did as she was told, getting down on the cold tile floor. She was in a frenzy by this point, and nothing could have made her stop. She wanted him. She would do anything he asked, as long as his mouth and hands would continue to do to her what they’d been doing.

She waited on her hands and knees. Then she felt his fingers, sliding in and out of her from behind. One hand was on her hip, the other was simultaneously sliding her panties out of the way, while two fingers entered her, digging in with controlled urgency.

She moved back against his hand, sliding all the way onto his fingers, taking them all the way into herself.

She wanted him inside her now—wanted to beg for it. But she knew that she might spoil everything if she talked.

Instead, Scarlett decided that the solution was to fuck his fingers so well that he would be unable to resist replacing them with his cock.

Swiveling her hips, sliding backwards with practiced ease, she fucked Bryson’s fingers. She was wetter than ever now, and sweat had lubricated her muscles. She was fully in her element now, letting go of all the worries and concerns that had plagued her not long ago.

“Scarlett,” Bryson said, after a few minutes of this. His voice was husky with need. “I’m taking my dick out, and I’m going to slide it inside you now. Stay still.”

She heard the unmistakable sounds of Bryson unbuckling and unzipping. Her heart was racing, beating so fast she thought it might explode in her chest.

We’re going to have sex, she thought. Bryson is going to fuck me on my knees, on the floor of this little New York apartment at midnight.

The thought was surreal. How could they be doing this after everything that had gone on between them up until now?

How could she let him do this when she’d promised herself not to?

But the time for those kinds of questions was long since passed, and Scarlett knew she wouldn’t stop it now. She wanted to feel him so badly, she wanted to know what he was like. She wanted to experience all of him, in every way.

Soon, he was placing the tip of his cock against her opening from behind. He slowly rubbed it back and forth along her entrance, allowing her juices to slather on his hardness.

She heard him moan as he felt her against him.

“Don’t move,” he said, his voice strong.

She felt him slip in, and it took her breath away. She remembered how huge he was, but now, having him actually inside her—it was a lot to take. At the same time, the pressure of his huge girth was a turn-on in and of itself. She spread her legs wider to accommodate him, moaning as her muscles gave way and he slid that much further inside.

Bryson made her feel like a virgin—he made her feel like she’d never even experienced sex before. Everything up until now had been make-believe, and this was real.

He slid the rest of the way in, going slowly until he had nowhere left to go.

Scarlett was dripping sweat from her forehead, her back. Meanwhile, Bryson’s hands were securely fastened to her hips as he began to pull himself out and then slide the rest of the way in again.

He started slowly, but soon he was moving faster.

“You’re so incredibly tight,” he told her. One hand moved from her hip and grabbed her hair, pulling back on her head as his hips slammed into her from behind. He slapped her ass. “Do you like being fucked like this?” he asked.

“Yes,” she croaked, as he slammed into her again. He spread her wide open, his cock touching every fiber of her pussy as he drilled down and touched her deepest place.

“I know you like this, Scarlett. I knew from the moment I first touched you that you needed a strong hand.” He slapped her ass again, harder this time.

She gasped. His cock was plunging in and out of her from behind, arcing inside of her, and Bryson controlled the tempo perfectly.

Suddenly, he pulled her up off her hands, pulling her against him so that she was on her knees but her back was pressed against Bryson’s chest as he continued to fuck her.

His hands kneaded against her breasts as his mouth kissed her neck and sucked her earlobe.

He began whispering in her ear as he fucked her, his hips pumping against her ass while his hands held her breasts, tweaking her erect nipples.

“I want you to come for me now,” he said, his breath hot against her ear. “Come on my dick, right now.”

She moaned, as her entire being shuddered with sweet anticipation for what was to come.

His body was strong and warm and glistening with sweat as he held her and went in and out of her.

She felt controlled and dominated and yet somehow, bizarrely, taken care of, all at once. He was filling her, piling his shaft into her with quick bursts, and it was serving to stimulate her clitoris perfectly.

“I’m going to come,” she warned him.

“Come right on my dick,” he said, sliding in one more time. That proved to be the time that set her off.

She climaxed like never before, her arms straining, her nails scraping along his torso as she tried to pull him even closer into her. She wanted to wrap him around her like a blanket.

“You came good for me, baby,” he told her. “Now, lay down on your back.”

She lied down on her back, as he told her to. The tile floor was hard and cold against her damp skin. Bryson looked at her, his nostrils flaring. In the semi-darkness, he looked almost feral, wilder.

Scarlett wondered what he would do to her now. Whatever it was, she would let him do it. She was willing to take him into her mouth, to let him put his cock between her tits, anything.

He stripped his shirt and pants off, and she had time to admire his sinewy, strong biceps, his legs, his six-pack abs that looked like something from a workout video. If these women on set ever saw what Bryson looked like with his shirt off, they’d probably never stop throwing themselves at him.

As it was, he already seemed to have made a strong impression on one of the most beautiful women in the world—Eliza Johnston.

Put her out of your mind, Scarlett, she told herself. Why would you spend even a second of this amazing night thinking about that woman?

Bryson must have noticed her mind was elsewhere. “Hey,” he said. “Come back to me.”

She brought her gaze back to his. When their eyes connected, she felt like there was nowhere else on earth that she’d rather be than here, right now, at this moment.

And as he lowered his muscular body onto hers, she was complete and completely taken.

This time, as he slid his hardness into her opening, there was a sense of total fulfillment.

He’s making love to me, she thought, with a shudder up and down her spine. It was delicious, and slow, and his eyes never left hers. “Scarlett,” he breathed.

Now he was kissing her, his mouth full, and she could taste her own sex, and although normally that wasn’t her thing—tasting it on him was something else. She knew how much he wanted her, could feel the want and need in his skin, in the way he touched her, in the movement of his hips.

“I’m coming again,” she cried out.

“Come for me,” he said.

She did come for him, and as she arched into his body, he began sliding more and more quickly in and out of her, and then with a groan of intense pleasure, he came too.

She looked up at him. His chest was heaving as he pulled away and sat down beside her.

They were quiet for a time.

She was starting to come back to her senses and she wondered just what the hell she’d been thinking, getting intimate with Bryson after everything that had gone on up until now.

But then something unexpected occurred. Bryson took her hand in his.

She looked at him and he was smiling. “Don’t be afraid of me, okay?” he whispered softly.

“I’ll try,” she whispered back, smiling now in return.

They got up and went to the bedroom. Scarlett freshened up, put on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, and then got into bed next to him. Bryson was in his boxers and nothing else. He pulled her close to him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his lips close to her ear. He stroked her hair.

She put her head on his chest and her hand on his stomach, listening to his calm and steady heartbeat. “I’m okay,” she said, eventually. The truth wasn’t quite so simple, but what was she really going to say to that question?

“What about you?” she asked him. “Are you okay with this?”

“More than okay.”

“You’re hot and cold,” she said.

“I guess I’ve heard that one before.”

“I’m not really in the mood to have someone mess with my head again. I’ve been there and done that, Bryson.”