The Last of the Monsters (16 page)

He came back to the bed, but before she had a chance to see what he’d picked, he wrapped a scarf over her eyes, tying it in place. Akta touched the silk, then reached up, finding his face. She traced his cheeks, his lips. He captured her hand, kissing her fingers, then tied a second scarf around her wrist.

With her hands bound together in front of her, Henry stripped her panties off and spread her legs. His fingers found her slippery core, and she could tell by the sound he made he was surprised at how wet she was. She wanted to tell him that just the thought of him was enough to arouse her, and the idea of him doing forbidden, sexy things to her was so arousing she was practically panting from the need.

“Tell me if I hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me.”

“Maybe I want to hurt you.” His words were dark and she shivered.

“Please” was all she could say.

His fingers cupped her pussy, middle finger rubbing around her clit, never touching it enough to let her find release. She grabbed his wrist with her bound hands, trying to guide his fingers to her clit.

“No. I don’t want you to come yet.”

“Why?” she gasped.

“Because you’re beautiful like this. You’re always beautiful, but when you’re like this, aroused and needy, I want to do things to you that should make you run.” His voice had deepened, becoming something between his human voice and his much lower monster voice.

“I won’t run.” She lifted her hips.

“I won’t let you.”

He tucked the cups of her bra to the side, leaving her nipples exposed. Unable to see, she jerked when his mouth closed over the peak. He sucked on the tight bud, drawing it deep into his mouth and his finger pumped in and out of her sex.

“Yes, yes,” she gasped, on the edge of orgasm.

“Are you going to come?”

“Yes!”

He withdrew his hand.

“No! Henry, please.”

“Not yet. Roll over.”

Frustration beat at her. Akta felt half-mad from the desire. “Fuck me.”

Henry chuckled. “I plan to.”

He rolled her onto her belly, slid a hand under her waist and then lifted her onto her knees. His palms smoothed over her ass cheeks, then pulled them apart. Akta sucked in a breath.

“I’m going to use you here.” His fingers brushed the entrance to her ass.

“I’m not sure,” she stuttered.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be careful. I’ll make you ready.”

There was a click and then his fingers were on her anus, rubbing a cool, slippery substance around her puckered hole. She relaxed a little, glad he knew to use the Astroglide she’d left out. For someone who’d been a virgin weeks ago, Henry was making up for lost time and then some.

She whimpered when he pressed one finger in.

“Does that hurt?”

“No, but it feels weird.”

He paused, then pressed his finger in deeper. “If you don’t like it after we do it once, we won’t ever do it again.”

“O-okay,” she stuttered. It felt strange to have his finger in her ass, but when he started pumping it in and out, the strangeness was colored with pleasure.

When he forced in a second finger, she cried out.

“Does that hurt?”

Her body was stretched around his fingers, and she had to fight the urge to pull away. “Yes.”

He didn’t withdraw them. “Is it good hurt or bad hurt?”

Akta shivered. Any of her other lovers would have withdrawn the minute she said it hurt. Not Henry. He was going to use her, push her to her limits…and she liked it.

“Good hurt,” she whispered, and it was true.

His free hand reached up under her and cupped her pussy. He pressed his hand flat against her, rubbing the whole of her sex. He fucked her ass with his fingers as he rubbed her pussy. Within minutes, she was pressing her ass back to meet his hand, fucking herself on his fingers.

“Now I’m going to use the plug.” He withdrew his fingers and more cool lube coated her anus. Then something smooth and rounded was there, pressing into her ass.

She took short, gasping breaths as he pressed the plug in. She had two. One was short and thick, the other longer with a more gradual taper. As he kept pressing, she decided this was the second one.

It seemed to go on forever, widening with each millimeter.

“Are you okay?”

“Yessss…”

“This is…” he stopped, took a breath, “…this is hotter than I imagined. I like using you, I like the sounds you make as I fuck you.”

Akta could only murmur her assent.

The widest part of the plug was pressed into her ass, and her body closed around the narrow neck. Henry tugged on it, testing how firmly it was seated within her.

“How does that feel?”

“Full. I feel full.”

“Too full to take my cock in your pussy?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Then I’ll make sure you’re ready.”

With the plug firmly in her ass, Henry flipped Akta over onto her back and tugged her to the edge of the mattress. His fingers parted the lips of her sex, spreading them open so he could lick and kiss her clit.

Akta reached her bound hands above her head, grabbing on to the sheet. She was wound so tight, her body was so ready that after only a few strokes of his tongue, she came.

“Henry!” she cried out, the orgasm ripping through her.

His mouth left her sex, to be replaced by his cock. She was tight from the orgasm, tighter still because of the plug in her ass, but he was gentle, pushing in with slow, deliberate thrusts. When he was fully seated inside her, Akta moaned. Her pussy felt stretched to its limit, the same for her ass. Her first orgasm had subsided, and without the diffusing power of arousal, it was a little uncomfortable.

Henry started thrusting and the discomfort vanished, replace by fresh need. She hadn’t thought it was possible to become aroused again so soon after such a powerful orgasm, but it was. Akta wrapped her legs around his waist and spurred him on. He pounded into her pussy, kissing her neck, face and breasts.

Akta came a second time, vising her legs around Henry to hold him still inside her as her pussy clenched.

“Did you come?” he asked in a low tone.

“Yes.”

“Good.” He pulled out and rolled her onto her belly.

Akta knew what was coming as he lifted her to her knees. He tugged out the plug, fucking her with it a few times before removing it completely. Then his cock was at the entrance to her ass.

“Condom,” she gasped.

A moment later, foil tore and then he was back, spreading lube around her ass, working it in with his finger. This time when his cock pressed against her entrance, it didn’t stop.

He held her hips still as he buried himself in her, inch by inch. He was wider and longer than the plug, and the pleasure of the possession was mixed with the faint pain of being stretched and filled. When he started to move, the pain was gone, or rather it was rolled into the pleasure. Her nipples rubbed against the sheet as he thrust, her pussy clenching in time with each movement.

Long, slow strokes turned to fast, hard thrusts, and he owned her, possessed her.

When he came, pumping hard and fast into her ass, Akta too shivered.

“Akta,” he whispered.

Then he was pulling out, removing her blindfold and the bindings around her hands. Her flesh felt electric, even the little brushes of air nearly too stimulating.

She met Henry’s gaze. “You’re still aroused,” he said.

“No.” She shook her head. That wasn’t possible. She’d come more than once.

“I can see it.”

His fingers slid into her pussy and with a few strokes of her clit had her screaming in orgasm. Akta clung to him as her body throbbed with pleasure.

This time when it was over she felt exhausted, almost numb.

Henry disappeared into her bathroom. When he came back, he joined her on the bed, pulling the covers over them.

“And that was only the As and Bs,” he said as she drifted off to sleep.

Akta smiled. Oh, how she loved this monster.

Chapter Twelve

Music thrummed through the speakers, loud enough to make the liquid in her glass tremble. Akta danced in place, waiting for the bartender to hand her a second drink.

The wrap party was underway. Akta had been to her share of these, though they were usually more for the crew than the cast, but this one was special. There was a palpable sense of relief among the people in the bilevel event space. They’d completed principal filming without any further attacks, and now that they were in postproduction, the risk had gone down considerably. Due to the speeded-up schedule, there had been enough left over in the budget to buy out most of the crew’s time, technically keeping them on the production payroll while in post, which kept them from taking other jobs and also decreased the likelihood of someone spilling the beans.

The bartender handed her the second drink and Akta danced her way toward the seating area in the loft. She toasted Jane and Michael, who were getting down and dirty on the dance floor. She shook her head. For someone so quiet and calm, Jane was like a coked-out stripper when the music started.

Climbing the steps, she handed a drink to Henry, then dropped down into his lap. She didn’t care who saw them—right now she wanted to enjoy herself. They’d taken the premier seating spot—a circular booth on the edge of the loft, with a view of the dance floor. Margo and Lena had agreed to turn off their phones for the night. Oren and Maeve were sitting in the other large booth with Jo and some of the other department heads. Tokaki had gone back to his native China, doing his part to spread the word there.

It turned out that Tokaki’s father was a seriously important businessman—and one of the film’s anonymous investors. Using his business ties, he’d been able to approach party leadership in China and present himself and his Clan as an important and powerful resource. It was a delicate dance, but Tokaki and his family seemed to be dancing it well. “I told you I’d get the drinks,” Henry said, pulling her more securely against him.

“I like doing it. Besides, I’m friendlier than you.”

“True.”

One of Akta’s favorite songs came on and she started wiggling on Henry’s lap. “Keep that up and we’ll be leaving sooner than planned,” he warned.

“Why don’t you come dance with me?”

“No, thank you.”

Akta mock-shrugged and tossed her head. “Okay, I’ll go dance with Jane, I’m sure Michael will do that with both of us.” She pointed to the dance floor where Michael supported Jane as she bent back over his arm, their hips pressed together so tightly they might as well have been fucking.

Henry made a disgusted sound and drained his drink. “Okay, let’s go.”

Akta tugged him down to the dance floor, laughing at his reluctance. Once she got him there, he started smiling as she rubbed up against him. One of the young, bouncy PAs got a conga line going—to a dubstep number, but Akta wasn’t going to judge—and she dragged Henry into it.

“Hey hey hey, cast and crew. Turn your attention to the monitors. The producers asked me to put this on for you all.” The DJ’s voice boomed out as the song faded.

Akta knew what was coming, so she dragged Henry to the stairs and back up to the booth.

The screen on the side of the dance floor, which had been showing a slide show of stills from the production, including candids taken by members of the crew, went blank. A moment later, a news report started playing.

Yesterday Akta and Henry had done the biggest interview of the production. In keeping with the new PR plan, they’d met not with an entertainment reporter, but with one from a news magazine show. They’d gone not to talk about the movie, but the impetus behind the movie. The full interview would air next week, but the network was using a two-minute teaser in tonight’s broadcast.

They watched the end of a report about the economy before the camera flipped and a smiling female anchor said, “Up next we have an excerpt from Lillian Jones’s exclusive interview with the stars of one of the most anticipated, and secretive, movies you’ll see this summer.”

Akta pressed closer to Henry as an image of the two of them, sitting side by side, came on-screen. Akta was smiling, wearing a cute black dress with a high-collared jacket. Henry wore a dress shirt, open at the throat, and a designer sports jacket.

“We look good together,” Henry murmured in her ear.

“Shh,” Akta hissed. She wanted to hear this.

The blonde reporter smiled. “Tell me, Akta, what is different about
Truth in Darkness
?”

“I wouldn’t say there’s anything different about
Truth in Darkness
.
It’s a wonderful story, almost timeless.”

“Then why the secrecy?”

“What’s different are the actors, like my costar Henry.”

There was a close-up of Henry’s face. He wasn’t smiling—he was smoldering. Someone in the crowd on the dance floor wolf-whistled.

“Henry, tell me, what’s different about you?”