I reached forward and tapped the control on the console. With a smooth, chanical whir, the thick privacy glass slid upward, sealing the back of the Escalade into a dark, soundproof vault. The driver was gone; the city was a silent movie playing out beyond the tinted glass. We were entirely alone in the belly of the beast.
"I’m not waiting for the hotel," I rasped, my voice sounding like gravel.
I gripped her hips and lifted her slightly, shifting her so she was perfectly positioned. I wanted to destroy every doubt she had, to drown out the noise of Monet, the industry, and the hundred other n who had looked at her as a product. I wanted her to feel the weight of my cock.
I reached down and guided myself toward her, finding her completely ready for . I drove into her in one deep, unhesitating thrust.
Sasha let out a sharp, choked gasp, her head falling back against the headrest as her body arched into a perfect bow. Her fingers dug into my shoulders, her nails biting into my skin, but she didn’t pull away—she pushed back, seeking every inch.
"Yes... oh god, Druski," she whimpered, her voice a fractured lody in the dark. "Make yours. Just yours."
I began a relentless, rhythmic assault, the SUV’s suspension absorbing our motion as we sped down Sunset Boulevard. This wasn’t a "scene." There was no lighting to stay in, no angles to worry about. It was primal and desperate. I watched her face in the intermittent flashes of streetlights—her eyes closed tight, her lips parted, her expression one of pure, agonizing bliss.
I was claiming her, marking the territory of her soul as much as her body. Every ti I hit the back of her, I felt her internal muscles clench around in a rhythmic, emotional sob. She was crying out for a connection she hadn’t had in years, and I was giving it to her with everything I had.
"You’re mine, Sasha," I growled, my hands sliding up to cup her face, forcing her to open those shimring eyes and look at . "Do you feel that? No caras. No script. Just ."
"I feel you," she sobbed, her voice breaking as she reached her peak. "I feel only you."
I dug my fingers into the soft fabric of her dress, gripping the curves of her ass cheeks to anchor her as I returned her fire with heavy, upward thrusts. The rhythm was frantic, fueled by the swaying of the SUV and the raw electricity between us. We didn’t stop kissing; our mouths stayed fused together, swallowing each other’s moans as the friction reached a boiling point.
Usually, as a professional, I could control my timing with surgical precision. But tonight, the rules were gone. The fact that she truly wanted —not the character, not the co-star, but the man—pushed over the edge. I hit my climax faster and harder than I ever had on a film set, a volcanic release that left breathless as I flooded her. Sasha cried out into my mouth, her body shuddering in a long, violent ripple of pleasure that seed to last forever.
The SUV glided to a halt in the Peninsula’s driveway. I didn’t soften; despite the release, my blood was still pumping so hard that my cock remained rock-hard inside her. We quickly adjusted our clothes, the air in the back of the Cadillac heavy with the scent of our encounter.
We stepped out into the cool midnight air, trying to maintain a shred of composure. The lobby was nearly empty, the marble floors gleaming under the crystal chandeliers. As we hurried toward the elevators, I caught the eye of the night receptionist. Her gaze dropped to the unmistakable, aggressive bulge straining against my trousers, and a knowing, impressed smile played on her lips. She didn’t say a word, just watched the "King" lead his Queen toward the lift.
The mont the elevator doors hissed shut, the silence of the lobby was replaced by the sound of our crashing lips. I slamd my hand against the button for the Penthouse and pinned Sasha against the mirrored wall.
"I told you," I growled against her mouth, my hands already back under her dress. "I’m not letting you go."
She wrapped her legs around my waist again, her eyes wild and dark. "Don’t. Don’t ever let go."
I moved like a man possessed. As the elevator ascended, my hands didn’t stop for a second—I was mapping her body as if I were morizing a masterpiece. I explored the lush curves of her hips, my fingers digging into the firm heat of her thighs before sliding upward to cup her heavy, trembling breasts through the thin sh. Every touch was t with a needy whimper against my mouth.
When the elevator let out its final Ding, the doors slid open directly into the foyer of the private suite. I didn’t let her walk. I hooked my arms under her knees and back, lifting her into my arms. Sasha clung to , her legs wrapping around my waist as I carried her into the darkened penthouse.
We didn’t even make it past the foyer before the clothes started hitting the floor. Leather, lace, and sh were discarded in a trail of silk and shadow as we kissed with a raw, unyielding hunger. In the soft glow of the city lights pouring through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Sasha stood before completely naked.
She was more beautiful in this mont of honesty than she had ever been under the studio lights. Her skin looked like liquid gold, her breasts heaving with her breath, and her eyes wide with a vulnerability that stole my air. I led her to the massive king-sized bed, the silk sheets cool against our heated skin as I pinned her there, hovering over her to let the weight of the romance fill the room.
"I love you," Sasha whispered.
The words hung in the air, heavy and real. I looked into her eyes, studying the flecks of gold in her pupils. I felt that spark—that undeniable connection that told this was no longer just a business trip or a career move. It was the sa weight I’d felt with Chloe, but here, in the heart of the industry, it felt even more sacred.
"I know," I said.
I didn’t say it back—not with words. I crashed my lips into hers, deciding right then that I would say everything she needed to hear through my actions. I entered her slowly, a deep, soul-searing glide that made her eyes flutter shut and her back arch.
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