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Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
“Blair, baby, you’re shaking.” His voice sounded even sexier, filled with the promise of relief if I gave in to him. “You want me this badly.”
Noah.
“Da—mon!” I moaned when he cupped my pussy, pinching my clit.
“I wonder what you taste like on my tongue,” he said, putting the candle to the side. He licked up my thigh to the source of my wetness. He didn’t just lick—he sucked. He latched on to my pussy and drank me in.
“That … that oh … feels so good.” I could feel his tongue as it licked the lips of my pussy before entering the folds and going deeper in me. The more I grinded into his face, the deeper he went, and just as I was about to lose it, he stopped.
“No … please,” I pleaded.
“Please what? Beg me, remember?”
“Please fuck me,” I gasped. “Please, I need you.”
“I win,” he replied, and I felt his cock press against my pussy, rubbing far too slowly for my own liking.
“Damn it!” I cried out in frustration as I tried to free my hands.
“Patience, baby,” he replied and instead of fucking me like I wanted him to—like I needed him to—he stopped so that I could say my last line as if he had entered me.
“Jesus—”
“Has no place being here,” he said, snickering and biting the tip of my ear.
“Cut.”
God fucking damn it all to hell.
I tried to control myself as he undid the ties around my wrists, and when I sat up with my back to the cameras, he put a sheet over me.
We both sat on the bed trying to breathe.
“Amelia, that’s all we need from you. Noah, we still need the shower scene.” Director Zane was the only one to speak. Nodding, I rose from the bed, taking the sheet with me.
We’d noticed during these takes that everyone was silent but the director, and I wasn’t sure if that was because the director told them to be or because they weren’t sure what to say to us after watching us “pretend” to go at it like animals. However, with each scene, Noah and I were blurring the lines between acting and reality. I had to stop myself from calling out Noah’s name instead of Damon’s more that a few times.
Chapter Ten
Amelia
When I got back to Noah’s—our—suite, Ollie was leaning against the door, his head down and arms crossed.
“Ollie?” I said.
He glanced up, his face tired. But he still put in an effort to smile as he kicked away from the wall and stood up straight.
“Done with your scene?” he asked.
“Yeah, they still wanted Noah, so I figured I’d take a shower and call it a night.” He never stayed for the sex scenes, and I couldn’t blame him. “Is something wrong?”
“You mind if we talk for a second?” He moved from the door to allow me to open it.
