he was touching me now felt so different from any of the other ways he touched me before. His movements were slow and languid, heating my blood, melting my body. I wanted to believe that it meant something, but more than likely it was just another way to have sex. He enjoyed showing me new positions and new places to have sex, so perhaps this was just another one of his attempts to show me a new way to make love.
I sank into it, opening myself to it because even if it was just another round of sex to him, for me it was so much more. It had become clear to me, not long after I returned from visiting my grandparents, that I was in love with Theo Wolfe. I was in love with everything about him, which was surprising considering at one time I thought he was the epitome of everything I despised about men. But as it turned out, he was so much more than his reputation suggested. He was a brilliant actor, having a command of nuance to deliver emotion from a character. He was attentive to everyone who worked for him on the set. Even to the actors who had no lines, he would introduce himself and welcome them, giving them a pep talk and hope that maybe someday they could be as famous as him. He was acutely aware of my own concerns about my future in the business and so while we were working, we were friendly and able to deliver all the snap, crackle, pop that we had when we started, but when Corrine called “cut”, we would break apart. We didn’t have lunch together and we rarely talked unless it was about the scene.
Only at night, back at his place, did we give each other our full, undivided attention. I enjoyed our secret little fling. There was something exciting at knowing that nobody knew all the wonderful things we did late at night. And it wasn’t just sex, although that was spectacular. We also talked about our hopes and dreams. I learned that he seemed to be a good businessman as he plotted his way forward on the next project his company planned to produce. Theo wanted to create financially-successful and highly-acclaimed movies, but he wasn’t interested in churning out the same old stuff that normally came out of the movie industry. I admired that he knew what he wanted, he knew his vision, and he wasn’t going to sacrifice it. Come what may, he was going to produce and do things his way.
Laying under him as his hands and lips worked their magic, I so wished that I was one of the things he wanted. I wished that being with me was part of his vision for the future. There was even a part of me that didn’t care what people would think if it came out that we were together. I was prepared to tell them that I loved him, even though apparently, I couldn’t bring myself to say the words to him. I could only do the next best thing, which was to show him through my touch.
His body filled me. His fingers flexed and gripped my hands. His lips consumed mine. I was his. Responsive to his touch and powerless to do anything but love him. He tore his lips away, cascading them along my jaw.
“Do you feel me, Madeline?” he whispered in my ear. “Do you feel what you do to me?”
“Yes,” I gasped, arching up, trying to take him in me deeper. “I feel you.” I love you. I bit my lip to keep from saying that.
He moved in and out of me, sending delicious sensations from my pussy outward. My blood was pumping hot and thick, like each time he thrust in, he was infusing more of himself into my essence.
“Fuck…I need to come…” he groaned as he buried his face in my neck again.
“Come. I want to feel you come.” I wanted to feel everything.
“Come with me. Take me over…I fucking love it when you take me over…”
He shifted his hips slightly and I tilted my pelvis so the next time he plunged in, he hit me in that one exquisite spot, and sent me spiraling out of control into bliss.
I cried out as my entire body was consumed with the power of him and the orgasm he sent through me. He let out a long, feral growl, and then he was coming