The Housewife and the Film Star Page 8

  "Stop staring at me, Mister. You're putting me off."

  "I'm just enjoying the view, baby."

  Her sharp intake of breath made him smile in male appreciation at the way her top stretched over her breasts.

  "I just bet you are. Where are we going anyway?"

  "Just keep on going. I'll tell you when we get there. It's a surprise."

  "I don't like surprises."

  "Sure you do, sweetheart." Sylvia kicked her shoe off, and he had to duck to avoid the flip-flop that flew towards him.

  ****

  Two hours and several heart-stopping locks later, Sylvia was rather pleased with herself. She'd actually done it. Watched over by Sven, she'd not only managed to steer the boat without any disasters, she'd successfully negotiated the locks. The sight of a topless Sven operating the windlass to open the gates had been an added bonus. She was now safely ensconced in his arms, enjoying the quiet rise and fall of his chest. His breath fanned the small hairs on her neck, as they waited in line for their place at the little village pub. According to Sven, the pub made the most amazing homemade Steak and Kidney Pie and Chips along the Grand Union Canal. How he knew that, he wouldn't divulge, no matter how much she probed, and he'd been tight lipped about who owned the boat, too. In fact, he'd seemed positively tense and had mumbled something about it belonging to a friend who was out of the country, before he'd distracted her very successfully by kissing her senseless. Sven had moored just outside the picturesque little village, and they'd walked hand in hand along the tow path. He'd donned a baseball cap and dark sunglasses, looking mean and dangerous, and Sylvia's heart had beaten a little bit faster. She'd noticed the way other women had checked him out. His complete disinterest had done wonders for her self-esteem, as did the way his arm had gone round her protectively, every time a man as much as glanced at her.

  "If you follow me, your table is ready now."

  The elderly waitress smiled at them as she ushered them through the crowded pub and into the beer garden to a table in a corner.

  "Here are your menus, if you'd like to choose. I'll be back in a jiffy."

  "We won't be needing the menus. Two of your pies and chips, please, and a couple of beers."

  "I see you've been here before then."

  The waitress winked at them both and made herself scarce.

  "What if I don't like pie, Sven? I don't even get a choice now?"

  "Trust me, baby, you will, and if you don't, I'll eat your portion, and we can order you something else. We'll both need our strength tonight."

  His smile was wickedness itself, and she thought it wisest to just keep her mouth shut.

  As it happened, the pie was as excellent as promised, and the ice cream they had for dessert was simply to die for.

  "I swear I cannot eat another thing, Sven. I'm not sure I can walk back to the boat."

  His carefree laughter skimmed across her skin, the eyes free of their sunglasses and full of heated promise.

  "Now that is a shame, when I have so much more planned for you back on the boat."

  "Such as? You haven't bought me new heels yet, after all?"

  "That is true, lady, but I do have some handcuffs which will do the trick."

  Her sip of coffee going down the wrong way brought tears in her eyes. Good God, what had he just said?

  "You wouldn't dare."

  "Only one way to find out. The question is do you trust me enough to try?"

  The flash of the camera saved her from responding. Sven's expletive hung in the air as he turned to face the inebriated looking man, who'd just taken their picture.

  "You're him. You're Larsson aren't you, mate?"

  "You've got the wrong man."

  "No, I haven't. You're him for sure. Man I'll get rich with that picture. Larsson and his girlfriend discussing bondage over dinner. Oh, this is great. Did you get the video, Dave?"

  "Sure did. YouTube fame here we come."

  Sylvia's heart sank at the iPhone held up triumphantly, one of many she now noticed.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  Sven's chair went flying. His furious growl made Sylvia hold her breath, and, before she could do anything at all, he had the man by the throat. Sven yanked the camera out of his hand and threw it in the canal.

  "See how you're going to earn a cheap buck off me now, mate."

  Another curse in Swedish followed, as all hell broke loose with shouts of "Did you get that?" "Fight, fight, fight." "Hey he can't do that."

  Sven looked ready to punch the lot of them, when his furious eyes found hers.

  "Let's get out of here, now."

  Throwing a wad of cash on the table he grabbed her hand and all but dragged her along, through the pub, past the astonished waitress, and out onto the tow path. She had to almost run to keep up with him, until gasping for breath her agonized, "Stop, please, Sven. I can't breathe," fortunately brought him to an abrupt stop.

  ****

  Damn it all to hell and back. Was he never going to be free of this crap? Sylvia bent over in front of him, struggling to breathe, did little to improve his mood. Neither did her looking at him with accusing eyes, shaking her head at him.

  "Was that really necessary? It was only one picture. Thanks to your caveman act, everyone else noticed, and we'll be plastered all over the news tomorrow no doubt."

  "Fuck, Sylvia, don't you think I know that? The whole reason I took you on this trip was to keep you out of the media circus. But I'm sick and tired of others making a quick buck out of my private life. I've been here before. All it takes is one picture and the likes of Jones will pick it up and blow it out of all proportion. They'll have you chained to my bed, with me doing God only knows what depraved things to you, you'll see. I don't need this, for fuck's sake, and you certainly don't. I can picture Peggy's face now."

  "Fuck Peggy. I really couldn't care less what she thinks. I never was good enough in her eyes, and I'm sure I'll never be, so she can take a running jump. I'm more concerned about you right now. Why does this bother you so much? Look at me, Sven, don't shut me out please? I want to understand."

  Against his better judgment his lips twitched at the adorable picture his little firecracker presented right now. Eyes ablaze, hands on hips she looked ready to go into battle, for him no less.

  "It's not funny, Sven, I mean it. I don't give a hoot what the papers say about you. No person worth their salt would, and I don't read them anyway. So what if they run another story? We know the truth, and that's what counts, right?"

  "Ah, baby, you have no idea, and I love you for it, but in my business image is everything, and mine's taken a severe beating lately. Vera will have a hissy fit. I promised her there would be no more kink rumors."

  The feminine groan in response to that comment shot straight to his cock. Damn, she was hot when she did that.

  "I'm sure Vera will cope. That's her job after all, and I really … Sven!"

  He caught her shriek of surprise in his mouth, loving the way her body molded into his almost immediately. Sven knew his breathing was as ragged as her own, when he finally released her.

  "Has anyone ever told you to talk too much? As much as I love your sassy mouth, shut up, woman, and walk. There is a pair of handcuffs with your name on it, baby. If I'm going to be accused of a fetish, regardless of how true that might be, I'm gonna make damn sure I get some fun out of it. "

  And he was not going to analyze the far too tender feelings that warred in his chest right now, seeing her tentative nod at his grumbled words. It was just sex, that's all!

  Chapter Nine

  By the time they reached the boat, Sylvia’s awareness of the quietly determined man holding her hand in a tight grasp rose to fever pitch. The click of the door as it shut behind them seemed far too loud in the quiet surroundings. The sun was setting. It cast the interior in an orange glow, and her heartbeat so fast she felt faint. The rational side of her brain knew it was ridiculous to be that nervous. This was Sven, for pity's sake; she kne
w she could trust him. He had only suggested handcuffs, not a goddamned threesome. People did this all the time. But the other frightened stiff part of her could only remember another man demanding she give up all control, and she couldn't help the shudder going down her spine.

  Get a grip, girl, and just breathe. He is not Richard.

  Forcing her breathing to slow down, she turned to find him leaning against the closed door watching her. The heat in his steady gaze ensured low burning arousal won over the fear churning her stomach.

  "Did I spook you that much?"

  "No … I-I … of course not."

  "Liar."

  With the prowl of a predator with his prey in sight he pushed himself away from the door. He covered the distance between them with two long strides. His large hands framed her head in his hands, and his breath fanned across her cheeks as his mouth touched hers. Sven trailed his tongue along the contours of her bottom lip.

  "Öppna upp för mig, min sköna."

  Fire spread through her veins like molten lava at the whispered words, delivered in between butterfly kisses along her jaw up to her ear. The nip of teeth on her earlobe sent an arrow of pure lust straight down to her sex, and, with a growl of her own, she pulled his head down for an earth shattering kiss that seemed to go on forever. Dimly aware of him nudging her backwards, the feel of the bed behind her knees still came as a surprise, so lost was she in the assault on her senses. Deepening the kiss further she found herself lifted and thrown onto soft covers that broke her fall. That sinful mouth claimed hers again, before she had a chance to wonder about his intentions. His hand tugged down her tank top to expose her bare breasts to his hungry gaze. Her hips bucked off the bed when his fingers rolled one aching tip as his mouth found the other, and heat flooded between her thighs. Sylvia's hands tugged at his shirt, desperate to feel his naked skin on hers, but, with a wicked grin and a shake of his head, he pulled one arm high above her head. The coolness of metal on her wrist was followed by a sharp click as he cuffed her to the head board.

  He caught her panicked moan in his mouth. "Shh, trust me, and remember the traffic lights."

  Some of her rising panic fled, and she nodded. Yes, she always had the power to stop him. This was the two of them having some consensual fun. She knew without a doubt that he would release her immediately, should she cry red. This wasn't Richard forcing her to do things she didn't want, taking sadistic delight in her cries of no. This was Sven, who only last night had shown her how focused he was on her pleasure, and how well he could read her body.

  He repeated the procedure to her other arm, and ran his fingers under the padded cuffs.

  "Not too tight?" he asked.

  She shook her head, and he smiled at her before he grabbed her hips and, with a sharp yank, pulled her down the bed.

  "I'll think we'll add this, too." She swallowed hard when he held the blindfold up for her to see. "This will be more fun if you can't see what I'm going to do to you. Lift."

  She lifted her head to help him fasten the blindfold, and darkness descended. Left shackled with her bottom hanging over the edge of the bed, and her arms stretched as far as they could above her head, fear slammed into her anew. The cuffs dug into her flesh, and she yanked at them. It was useless. She couldn't move and was completely at his mercy.

  "Sven?" She hated how small and frightened her voice sounded. Instantly his warmth and scent enveloped her, and she relaxed somewhat.

  "I'm here, baby." The bed dipped again, and he was gone. Just as she wondered where he was she could feel him hook his fingers under the waist band of her shorts. He slowly pulled them down her legs, taking her underwear with them. Anticipation made her mouth dry as his warm, firm lips caressed every bit of skin he exposed, and moisture slicked her pussy. The cool air hitting her wet cunt was the most arousing thing ever as she helplessly tugged at her restraints in her desperation to get her hands on him. He laughed, and a playful swat to her inner thigh was the response.

  "Uh uh, no hands, baby, and stop struggling. You'll hurt yourself. Just feel. Släpp allt, bara känn."

  The murmured words delivered along her fevered skin set her on fire as he worked his way down her body. Along the inside of her thighs, he nibbled a path with his teeth, whilst his hands held her hips still. When he finally reached her clit his hot breath hovered over the needy nub, and he blew against it. The puffs of air teased and aroused with the promise of release until she was so ready one stroke of his tongue was all that was needed to send her hurtling over that cliff. The pain in her wrists turned to exquisite pleasure when his cock slid home in one fluid move. He thrust into her with long lazy strokes, designed to drive her wild, and she pushed her feet into the edge of the bed to help lift her hips. He groaned in answer and thrust faster, pounding her into the bed, driving her on and on into another climax, before he finally collapsed on top of her. His weight pinned her down, as his body shook with the spasms of his own release. Withdrawing gently, he kissed her deeply, and took the blindfold off. Then he took care of the condom, only to reappear moments later to start the whole process over again, until she literally begged him to stop.

  When he finally released her out of those cuffs, her arms were stiff, and she winced. Her wrists were also sore, and he surprised her again by the gentleness with which he massaged her arms and wrists with the fragrant massage oil he produced out of nowhere.

  Really, what else had he hidden in those drawers underneath the bed? And was she woman enough to find out?

  His eyes were full of remorse and tender concern as he clucked his tongue at the marks left behind by the cuffs.

  "I told you not to struggle, min sköna. Now look what you've done."

  She could only watch helplessly as those talented hands worked their magic, and her eyes drifted closed of their own accord. His whispered Swedish endearments gave her a warm glow inside, and she was only dimly aware of being pulled into his arms and told to go and rest.

  ****

  Sylvia woke up alone the next morning, the vibrations telling her they were once again on the move. The breeze coming in through the window was cool, the sun not having managed to break through the clouds yet, and a quick look at her phone showed the time to be 7 A.M. Sheesh, he was up early. She rubbed her wrists absentmindedly, a faint line a tell-tale reminder of last night's exploits, one handcuff still tied to the head board behind her

  His voice carried through the open window, and the never far away simmer of low burning desire made her suck her tummy in. She really could listen to that voice all day. Something was wrong, though. He must be on the phone to his family. The odd mamma and papa she could catch were a sure giveaway, but it was the depth of pain in those gravelly tones that made her heart clench.

  It was the same agonized growl that had woken her up last night, and her stomach clenched painfully as she remembered. He'd been tossing and turning in his sleep, clearly held in the grip of some awful nightmare. His body slick with sweat, his arms had thrashed wildly. It had taken all of her bodyweight to hold him down as she straddled him, calling his name in a vain effort to wake him up.

  "Sven, wake up, you're dreaming. Sven!"

  She'd kissed the tears off his face, her own heart aching at the depths of his despair, when his eyes had finally flown open and locked with hers.

  "Sylvia?"

  "I'm here. You were dreaming. It's okay now."

  But it hadn't been okay, far from it. He'd sat up abruptly. The movement had made her slide down into his groin, and had brought her naked core in direct contact with his erect penis. She'd scrambled off him as quickly as she could, but his arm round her waist had stopped her. Sven had flipped her over, raised her bum in the air, and one thigh spreading her wide, he'd buried himself inside her with a brutal thrust. Her scream of surprise had filled the air as he set a fast pace, driving himself deeper with every move. The angle of his penetration had reached a spot deep inside her, and discomfort had given way to pleasure as every thrust brought his cock in
direct contact with her G-spot. Heaven help her, she'd met his frantic movements with a need of her own so intense and immediate the force of her own orgasm seemed to splinter her in half. He'd grunted his release into her ear before he'd flipped her over again. His haunted eyes had locked with hers, and she'd drawn him down for a kiss that he'd returned like a man drowning. It was only later, when he'd fallen asleep, his damp head cushioned on her breasts, it dawned on her that they hadn't used a condom.

  Stupid, stupid girl!

  As much as she hated it, she would have to make a trip to the chemist come tomorrow. An unwanted pregnancy was the last thing they needed. Besides, he'd been half asleep and probably wouldn't even remember their encounter, even if she did have the bruises to prove it.

  Forcing herself to leave the soft covers she padded to the bathroom and risked a glimpse at Sven through the open door. He was laughing now, using the same tone of voice she'd heard him use when he'd explained something to Timmy. Who was Torsten? Whoever he was, at least some of the pain had left his voice, his expression pensive and affectionate as he listened attentively. She jumped when his eyes narrowed, as he spotted her behind the door. He looked away and turned his back to her.

  Shit, now he would think she'd been snooping. Way to go.

  A quick jump in the shower later and armed with what she hoped would be a conciliatory mug of steaming coffee in her hand she went to join him on the stern.

  "I thought you could do with this. It's awfully early to be up isn't it, Sven?"

  Sven simply shrugged his impressive shoulders.

  "Tack min älskade," he said.

  A shudder went through his long frame, when she wrapped her arms round his waist, and dropped a kiss on his chest.

  "I thought it best to keep moving after the debacle at the pub."

  She raised her head a little, better to study his profile.