I wrap my arms and legs around him, urging him on and holding on for dear life. I have to close my eyes. I can’t see anyway with the flashes of light blinding me. My voice is breaking, crying out with every thrust, and my orgasm rushes to meet me like a wave, fast and fierce and blotting out everything in the world.
My pussy is spasming, gripping Peter, and he grunts as he comes too, spending himself and thrusting deep before holding himself still while he’s wracked with the same pleasure that I am.
I move my hands to the sides of his face and pull him down to kiss me. That was fast and raw and perfect. We needed this to be together.
“Amber,” he says, but nothing else.
“I know.”
Then he rolls us over on the bed and takes me to entirely new heights of pleasure.
22
Amber
Present
I sneak out of Peter’s house while he’s still sleeping. I spend a few minutes making coffee, and I leave a cup by the bed for him with a note telling him that I’ve gone to the set early. He had a good point about borrowing clothes from wardrobe, but it’s not a good idea for us to show up to the set together with me wearing this dress.
Alone, I can make up an excuse like I went to a party or something. Together has implications. And they’d be true, but we really don’t need people to know that. Not right now while the fate of the show is still hanging on the carefully balanced tip of the knife.
It takes longer for me to leave than I wanted though, because I just like looking at him. He’s just as beautiful when he’s sleeping, and the opposite of that fierce man that took me over and over again last night. That man is amazing, and far more than I ever imagined.
I haven’t had a night like that…ever.
But the one sleeping in front of me is softer and more peaceful. I love both of them.
My mind stops in its tracks. Love. Could it be that fast? Or is it possible that after loving him so deeply that I never really stopped? I just pushed it under the surface until I couldn’t recognize it anymore.
I don’t know. Either way, love is what I feel. For better or for worse. The car arrives, and if the driver thinks it’s weird that I’m coming out of a house in a full on ball gown at seven in the morning, he doesn’t say anything.
Then again, this probably isn’t that uncommon of an occurrence here.
He drops me off at the entrance to the studio lot, and I hobble my way across to our set and the wardrobe department. There’s nobody here yet since there’s a later than usual call time.
I have no idea what I’m going to wear, but the first thing I do is find a bag to stuff my shoes in to, and eventually my dress.
God, I’m never going to be able to look at this dress again without thinking about Peter peeling it off me. Not that that’s necessarily a bad thing. Walking through the racks of clothes, I find a pair of cute jeans in my size, and a bra. No way I’m going all day without a bra.
That sorted, I stuff the dress in the bag and head off to look for a shirt. I’m in the middle of the racks with only jeans and a bra on when the door to the wardrobe closet opens. I duck behind the clothes and peer at the door, trying to see who it is. I nearly collapse in relief when Peter steps through the door.
“You almost scared the shit out of me,” I say, standing up straight. “I’m over here in only a bra.”
He cocks an eyebrow at me. “I got your note, though I would rather have woken up with you in my bed so I could have completed my plan.” He makes his way through the racks of clothes while he talks to me, until he’s standing right in front of me. His hair is still wet from a shower, and he’s wearing a t-shirt that’s tight enough to make my mouth water.
“What was your plan?”
He backs me up against the wall until his hips are pressing into mine and I can feel his cock through his jeans.
“To roll over and ravish you until your voice would be hoarse all day.”
I swallow. “That sounds like a fun plan.”
“Yes it is,” he says, starting to undo the buckle on my borrowed belt.
“Peter.”
“Amber.”
I shake my head. “We can’t do this here. Production staff will be here soon.”
“Then I guess I’ll have to be fast.”
“I—”
His hand slips down the front of my pants and I stop protesting. Because the minute he started talking, I became wet, and his fingers on my clit right now are making me feel things that make it utterly impossible to talk. He shoves the pants off my hips and the panties too. “Spread your legs.”
I obey. His pants are undone, and he strokes himself, showing how hard he is, how ready. “I don’t have a condom but I’ll pull out,” he says. “You okay with that?”
The thought of being skin on skin with him is so mouthwatering, that I nod. He leans down, fitting himself into me and thrusting upward. I have to come up onto my toes, and I know that if it weren’t for his cock, I wouldn’t be able to stand up. That thought makes me that much wetter.
He feels bigger without the condom, the slick friction of his cock inside so new and different from what I’ve felt with him before. I’m already shaking. My body is primed for him. It remembers last night and the pleasure he can give.
Peter grabs my wrists in one of his hands and pins them above my head while he fucks me. He’s fast and brutal and doesn’t slow down, not for a second. I can’t move. It wouldn’t be possible even if I wanted to. He’s bound me with his pleasure and his cock and my mind releases, opening to this surrender.
It pushes me over the edge, and I can’t help the cry that comes from me, only to be silenced by Peter’s free hand. I’m glad the sound is muffled, because I can’t stop.
Pleasure is a storm and I’m caught in it, being twirled in the winds until I’m wrung out. But Peter isn’t finished, thrusting deep, each movement sending off bright aftershocks behind my eyes, and I moan into his hand.
He’s close. I can tell. His breathing is ragged, and the hand pinning my wrists slips a little. All at once he pulls back, out of me but staying close, hand falling to his cock as he comes, stroking himself through it, cum falling onto my panties and thighs.
And then he’s done, both of us breathing like we’ve run a marathon. He grins, a smirk that shakes me to my core because it’s so sexy and I know that he’s thought of something that will make me just want to fuck him again.
He reaches down and pulls my panties up, followed by the jeans. He hooks them and zips them and does the belt, a notch or two tighter than I would have. Tucking himself back into his pants, he presses me into the wall, lips at my ear. “Don’t you dare change those panties.”
My heart rate speeds up. “What would you do if I did?”
He shrugs. “Nothing. But I like the idea of you sitting all day in my mess. So that every time you feel it, you know exactly how hard I’m going to fuck you tonight.”
There’s no moisture in my mouth anymore. It’s all gone to my pussy, and I’ve turned a bright red. I know that I have. It should make me uncomfortable, but it doesn’t. It makes me hot.