Holy hell, she hadn’t just worn the lingerie he’d bought her...she’d put on the slinkiest, sexiest pair of stockings and panties that he’d given her. Were it not for the punishing workouts he put himself through every morning, his heart would have stopped right there.
“My God, you’re gorgeous.”
His fingers moved from the lacy edge of her garter, up the soft skin of her inner thigh, to skim the inside edge of her panties. He could already feel how wet, how ready, she was for him as she whimpered softly, then rocked into his hand.
“Show me more.” He nipped at the underside of her neck as he begged her to put him out of his misery. “Please, Valentina, I need to see more of you.”
She stared at him with big, beautiful eyes. “This is crazy,” she whispered. “Completely crazy,” she said again, “but I can’t stop wanting you anyway.”
With trembling fingers, as she began to unbutton her blouse, Smith not only drank in the inch-by-inch reveal of her creamy skin, he also relished her admission of how much she wanted him despite all of her reasons not to. He knew how cautious she was about actors, about the spotlight, and yet here she was anyway, one more time. Somehow, he needed to make her see that she couldn’t live without him...and that the two of them were worth all the irritations and inconveniences that came with his life.
He wanted so badly to taste her, to hear her sounds of pleasure as she leapt off that first peak in his arms, but somehow he managed to hold off until her blouse was open nearly to the waist.
“Valentina.”
With one hand sliding into the slick heat between her thighs, he lifted the other to cover the swell of her breast, so gorgeously on display in a bra that just barely covered her ni**les. He leaned forward to take one of those luscious peaks into his mouth, cupping one breast even as his tongue slid beneath lace to slick over beautifully aroused flesh.
Only, instead of sating him, the taste of her made him even hungrier, and so desperate that he couldn’t keep the hand still at her core, couldn’t stop his fingers from playing over her arousal, then sliding hard and fast into her.
Just that fast, with his fingers in her, his mouth on her, she came apart, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, her neck and back arching her br**sts into his mouth, her hips rocking into his.
He wanted to savor her, wanted to take hours to pleasure her again and again, to appreciate every inch of her beauty, her sweetness. But the three days—and nights—he’d been made to wait to have her again had been three too long, and just as he’d told her in the store the day before, he didn’t have a lot of practice with waiting.
Keeping his head on straight just long enough to pull a condom he’d been praying he’d get the chance to use soon from his back pocket, then to unzip his pants and get it on, Valentina’s mouth found his just as he lifted his hands back to her waist and positioned her over him. Less than a heartbeat later, she was lowering herself down over him and taking him inside.
Their mouths collided just as fiercely as the rest of them, the pull and thrust of his body against—and into—hers a mirror of the way their tongues were stroking, sliding together. And as she took over their rhythm, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly, her thighs strong and taut as she rocked into him again and again, Smith let go of her waist to cup her br**sts with his hands, the lace nowhere near as soft as her flesh in his palms. On a growl, he yanked at the fabric so that his mouth, his hands, could cover her instead.
Just at the moment that his tongue, his teeth, found her nipple, she arched back and down, taking him so deep that even as she started to detonate again in his arms, he was right there with her, losing himself completely inside of her.
* * *
Valentina’s legs shook as she walked back to her office to get her things. They were still shaking by the time she got in her car to drive home.
It was one thing to say she didn’t want to be with Smith.
It was another entirely to say it and then immediately melt into him as she begged for more of his kisses.
And it was another still to give herself to him in ways she never had with another man.
Yes, the set had been fairly deserted by the time she went to seek him out in the screening room, but she hadn’t thought to lock the door. Anyone could have walked in on them and seen her straddling Smith in the chair, her skirt hiked up around her waist, her blouse unbuttoned and open so that nothing would get in the way of his mouth, his hands, or his—
Oh God, she thought as she pulled into the driveway of her rental house and laid her head down on the steering wheel, what am I doing?
Friday night, and then Saturday morning, were supposed to be her one-time-only gift to herself. Even today, before she’d reached for him, she’d justified it by telling herself it was the very last time.
All those years she’d thought actors were the ones who couldn’t be trusted.
Now, it turned out that she was the one who kept saying one thing...and then doing another.
* * *
The next days passed in a blur of meetings and important scenes being filmed and working with Tatiana on her lines...and secret, frantic, couldn’t-possibly-get-enough-of-it sex with Smith.
Somehow, making love with Smith had become an inevitable, and utterly necessary, part of each day. Every time she saw him, she was more and more tempted to go against what she believed—what she knew—to be true about men in the business. For the first time, she wondered if it wasn’t that women like her mother were so weak, but rather that the pull of these men was too strong to resist?
Because every time Smith’s hands, his mouth, touched her, all of her well-thought-out reasons, each one of her careful considerations, every last vow and promise she’d made to herself, disappeared as if they had never existed at all.
When Tatiana asked Valentina to weigh in on her wardrobe for some upcoming scenes she would be shooting with the baby, she shouldn’t have been surprised to find Smith there, too. But when Tatiana and Kayla, the wardrobe director, needed fifteen minutes to check out the stash of fabric in Kayla’s storage locker, Valentina was surprised by how natural it was not only for Smith to lock the door before pulling her into his arms, but also for her to wrap her arms and legs around him and put her mouth to his as he took them both over yet another brilliant peak.
The next day, she made sure to get in early to make up for the work she’d been too fuzzy to complete post-quickie with Smith, but even though she’d thought she was the only person on set, she found him in the kitchen making coffee. The next thing she knew, the door was locked again, the blinds were down, and they were making love against the counter, her hands pressed flat on the Formica as she pushed her hips back into his to try to take him deeper, while he gave her everything, absolutely everything she couldn’t help but want. She could have said no, but knowing his touch, his kisses, made her a willing slave to wanting every time he was near.