“I know you would.” I release his face and he slides the file across the tips of his nails, spreading his fingers apart while humming to himself.
I laugh to myself, spinning around and acting as if I only just entered the room. He’s still looking down, acting as if he doesn’t see me, and I grab his face roughly, holding him in place. His arms lift, flailing, eyes widening in surprise as I force his mouth open with my fingers and shove my cock down his throat. Not gentle or slow, I thrust my hips, pushing my straining cock over his tongue, again and again.
His eyes are bloodshot, face flushing and cheeks pushing out as I fuck harder. The nail file stays in his hand and he loses balance, putting his hand anywhere he can, forgetting to drop the file first. The sharp edge digs right into the fleshy part of my hip, going deeper when my cock hits the back of his throat.
I bite back a scream, tugging on the strands of his hair, playing my part as the guy who’s so distracted by his flooding orgasm that he ignores the pain. I shake from overwhelming pleasure, the pain only increasing it, and when I look down at the way he keeps pushing the weapon into me, I come down his throat, my vision all over the place.
His eyes roll back and he chokes around me, his throat tugging me harder before I pull out of him. He’s trying to catch his breath, placing a hand on his knee, and when he sees where the other one is, his eyes flash with horror mixed with awe. The first part is forced. What he thinks he needs to be.
“I hurt you.”
I shake my head, grabbing his wrist when he tries to flinch away. “No, baby.” I use his hand to slide the nail file up, creating a longer cut horizontally and his fingers shake as he looks on in a daze.
“It’s only a flesh wound. I have a first aid kit that’ll fix it right up.”
“You . . . the movie is over, isn’t it? I should stop now. Especially because there’s no way I’m unaware now. I mean, I never was but . . .” He’s not pulling away this time, his hand moving easily with mine as I cut up more of my thigh, the sting radiating.
“I haven’t called cut yet, have I?”
“No . . . Hayden . . . if I keep going . . . if I—”
“Shh. I want you to if you need to.”
“I don’t want to hurt you too badly.”
“You won’t. Move to the other side if you need to.”
“This is insane.” His breaths quiver and he slices through my other thigh causing me to scream through clamped teeth. “Why can’t I stop? I should want to, right?”
“Not while the camera’s still rolling. You can do whatever you want when it is, and it’ll be okay. The sky’s the fucking limit.”
His eyes light up and he makes another small hole before the first one, then drops the nail file, buzzing with endorphins. He dips his head forward, sucking and licking at my injuries. I shift uncomfortably but can’t move away from him. He makes me hurt and bleed so good. The second major character usually survives, and he’s making sure I do during this shot. He won’t care as much with the side characters and extras. He’ll have more of a reason to kill them. He’ll want the light to leave their eyes and will be happy about it even after I say, “End scene.”
The guilt will be gone, and he’ll be asking when the next scene will be filmed, patiently waiting for the time to come. That’s what stars do when they really love the work they’re doing.
He licks at me some more, his chin and lips red.
“Cut,” I say, leaning down to kiss him, and when I pull away, he grabs the file, rubbing the blood from the center, saying, “You sure we don’t have to do a redo?”
I smile, leaning down to cup his face. “I think we’re good for now, but I could change my mind after watching the clip again.”
“Does that mean another movie night tomorrow?” His eyes are begging.
I let out a soft dreamy sigh, spreading my blood along his lips. “Maybe even a movie morning after we have breakfast.”
“Okay, let’s get the first aid kit and hurry up to bed, then.”
I stifle a laugh. “If that’s what you want.”
Seventeen
Sterling
The last few days have gone by way too fast for my liking, and I’m getting used to waking up in Hayden’s bed. It can’t really lead to anything more than this, but I keep wanting to drag it out anyway.
“They’re moving the filming date again,” he says, sitting next to me on the couch.
“To later?” I ask hopefully, looking up from my book.