Avoiding Intimacy (Avoiding #2.5)(18)
Author: K.A. Linde

“I’ve never seen anything more perfect,” he said, snapping another round of pictures. “Plant your feet on the bed and lift your ass into the air.”

She was used to taking orders from him when he had a camera in his hands, and she found her body listening to him without complaint. Even though she was all but nude from the waist down, leaving her completely exposed, she still reveled in the fact that he found her perfect. Who was the twisted one?

The familiar sounds of a photo shoot filled the room, and she wondered what exactly he was taking a picture of. Was it a good shot? God, she couldn’t believe these were the thoughts crossing her mind right now. And, somehow, she was still incredibly turned on, maybe even more so than before.

She felt his weight shift the bed as he crawled on top of her. His skin brushed up against her, and she realized he had removed his pants. His hand softly rested on her stomach, pressing it back into the mattress. He straddled her and took a series of pictures from his new vantage point. His thumb flickered over her breast, causing her to arch her back. She pulled against her bonds, wanting nothing more than to take control, but he wouldn’t allow it. Her mouth opened with desire as he pinched the other nipple between his fingers. He took the opportunity to trail his thumb across her body to her lip. He slipped his thumb into her mouth. She closed her lips around it, swirling her tongue and sucking on it greedily. The camera went off again as she teased his thumb the way she wanted to tease his dick.

He groaned and pulled it out of her mouth. He then reached behind himself and placed his now wet thumb directly on her clit. She moaned at the feel of him touching her, extracting heightened pleasure from her. The camera went off again, and this time she didn’t even care.

Two of his fingers had expertly inserted themselves into her, and they were working her p**sy as his thumb swirled in circles on her clit. She could already feel her impending cli**x approaching, and she tightened and released around his fingers as she sought that release.

But, he would have none of it. As she lay there breathless and close to spent, he removed his fingers and hopped off the bed. Her body was humming. She had never wanted release more than in this moment.

“Panting is so damn sexy,” he mused, his hand trailing up her calf, over her knee, and around her inner thighs.

She jumped at the first touch and prayed he would continue farther south.

“I’d like that to continue. Would you?”

he asked.

“Touching me? Yes!”

“Panting,” he said, running his fingers back up her thighs.

She groaned. Her body demanded more and more, but he wasn’t giving it to her.

“I’ll pant all night long if you get over here and f**k me,” she said into the darkness.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, grabbing her thighs and pulling her down farther on the bed.

She yanked against her chains, causing a soft yelp to escape her lips as the cuffs chaffed against her wrists. Her shoulders were stretched as far as they could go.

“Is this how you want me?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice hoarse as the pain in her shoulders and wrists eased.

“I didn’t hear you,” he said, pulling on her legs once more.

“Yes!” she yelled out. “God, yes!”

“Good. This is exactly how I want you, my little star, all tied up and helpless, begging for me,” he said, He was careful with the dress, bunching the train up. He pushed it off to the side of the bed, so her body was laying more exposed to him.

“Now, spread your legs,” he commanded her.

She moved her legs apart hesitantly, testing the bonds with her movements.

“Farther!”

Without thinking, she moved her legs as far apart as she could manage, looking like a spread eagle with her legs bent at the knees.

“That’s better,” he murmured, dipping his fingers back into her unexpectedly.

“God, you’re so ready for me. It would be a shame to waste this.”

Chyna whimpered as he stroked her wetness lovingly, riling her up further. It wouldn’t take much more, and she prayed he wouldn’t notice her heavy breathing or body tightening at his command. All she wanted at this point was to release…to finally release.

As if he could tell she was at a breaking point, she felt his weight at the foot of the bed again. Then, without warning, he pushed forward inside of her.

She shook against her restraints, wanting nothing more than to push her hands up into his thick black hair, wrap her legs around his torso, and let her body fall in time with his.

But, given the circumstances, she was just glad he had relented to being inside of her.

He grabbed her hips, raising her ass off the bed again so that he could rest on his knees. Then, he slowly eased out of her inch by inch. She whined at the feel of the head pulling out of her, and then he slammed back into her forcefully. Her body pushed back toward her shoulders, and she cried out in pleasure and pain. He repeated the movement—slow, slow, slow, followed by one fast shove into her —two or three times more. If she had thought that she was close before, the agonizing torture of this movement holding her just before the precipice of release was far, far worse. Her skin was tingling, her toes were curling, and her fingers were clawing up the bedspread. Stomach tightening, her body demanded with every fiber of her being to let her come.

And, when she did, earth shattering were the only words that came to mind.

Finally, releasing all control, Marco pushed into her as hard and fast as he could manage with three quick thrusts, and then he followed her. Chyna screamed at the top of her lungs as the orgasm cut through her body, bursting open like a firework. Her body was a volcano, and as her screams subsided, the stillness doused the burning running rampant throughout her body.

His breathing heavy, Marco collapsed on top of her with an air of satisfaction and victory. Her eyes closed beneath the blindfold, and she felt exhaustion turn into a desperate slumber.

***** When she awoke next, her wrists and ankles had been released, and her blindfold was discarded along with her dress. She was lying completely nak*d on the same bed she had been tied to, and as she felt along the sheet that covered her, she discovered a figure lying next to her.

No clocks were in the room, so she had no way of knowing what time it was. As the room had one window, she only knew that it was still dark outside.

She eased out of the bed, careful not to wake Marco, and she padded out of the room. Her stomach clenched painfully at what she had just done and what she was about to do.

Finding Marco’s bedroom, she changed into a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that she had left behind from one of their shoots. She located a piece of paper and a pen, and after scribbling a short passage on the card, she tucked it into her pocket.

She swallowed hard as she quietly tiptoed back into Marco’s photography studio where he still lay peacefully slumbering. The camera he had used sat undisturbed on a chair, looking harmless.

She popped the memory card out of the back and placed it into her other pocket.

When she turned back around, she almost cursed out loud. That son of a bitch!

A medium-size video camera on a tripod was set up in the corner of the room. That must have been what the beep was. He hadn’t even told her he was going to be filming her. Why was she even surprised? Not wanting to take any chances, she figured out how to open the gadget. She slipped the tiny recording disc out of its slot and placed it in her jeans next to the memory card. No stone left unturned.

Glancing around the room, she bit her lip as she stared at the immobile man beneath the sheets. She blew him a kiss, wishing she could taste his lips one last time. As she turned to leave the room, something sparkled in her peripheral vision. She glanced at the distraction and saw her priceless dress hanging perfectly unharmed on a clothing rack. She couldn’t help herself. She smirked, grabbing the dress off of the hanger, and then she slinked back out of the room. She would have giggled if she hadn’t been trying to be silent. Walking back through the apartment and into the living room, she pulled the card out of her pocket and stared at it.

You thought I was the star, shining so bright, but you were wrong. You were the star, but you’ve burned out. Now, all I see when I look up into the sky are all my other options.

She took a deep breath and left the card on the piano. Then, she quickly darted out of the apartment.

She left without a kiss, without a good- bye—just with a million dollar dress, a sex tape, and nude photography from one of the best fashion designers in the world.

The sun was just peeking over the horizon when she made it to street level.

She had managed to phone a taxi service when she had snuck into Marco’s bedroom, and thankfully, she only had to wait a minute or two before it arrived.

She gave the man her apartment address in Italian and was quickly whisked away from Marco’s. Without knowing why, she swiveled in her seat and took one more forlorn look over her shoulder at the place of the man she had been with for the past month and a half. She wished she could have said that she saw the door open as he came running out after her, but no such thing happened. She turned back around, and with a deep sigh, she hugged her dress.

***** Her roommates were still sleeping when she returned. She wandered through her closet, wondering how the hell she was going to get all of this home. Coming here, she had traveled with nothing more than a carry-on suitcase, and she would leave for home with nothing more. The company was supposed to ship all of her stuff for her when she finished, but she wasn’t sure if that would still happen under the circumstances. Grabbing only her most favorite clothing items, she stuffed them into her Louis Vuitton carry- on along with her star dress, Marco’s sheer purple button-up shirt, her Christian Louboutin red lacquer–soled pumps, and three five-by-five black and white–framed photographs Marco had taken of Milan.

At her insistence, the taxi had waited for her to transport her to the airport. It wasn’t a short drive nor would it be a cheap fair, but she really couldn’t care less in the moment. She was waiting for her phone to blow up, for someone to notice she was gone, for Marco to pitch a fit about her disappearance. But, the hour- long drive out of the city produced nothing, just silence.

Her flight home was atrociously priced, but then again, so was her cab fare. Money hardly mattered at this point.

She was just ready to be home.

She boarded her flight without any problems, and she checked her international cell phone one last time to see if anyone was going to contact her.

She had expected at least some kind of snide remark from Marco, something to know that he had read her note. All she wanted to do was leave him before he had the chance to leave her.

It was easier that way.

***** Chyna dozed off on the flight. She was awoken eight hours later by a flight attendant speaking obnoxiously into the speakers about landing and putting seats in their upright position. She yawned and stretched her arms overhead, adjusting the kink in her neck from sleeping on the plane. She flagged down a stewardess as soon as she saw one.

“Yes, ma’am? Can I help you?”

“Can I get a Maker’s on the rocks?”

she asked, feeling a headache coming on.