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pornographic: refers to a film that exploits or graphically depicts sex, often rated XXX




Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


TAKE 16

Tallulah needed a miracle to survive this hangover. Preferably an IV drip of holy water. Instead, Nick, the resident hangover expert, fed her miserable ass avocado toast and supervised her as she washed down aspirin with two bottles of water. A shower did little to liven her zombified senses which put her at a disadvantage as she attempted to recall last night’s events. All her memories were disjointed blurry fragments. An handpicked outfit awaited her on the bed as she ambled out the bathroom in fluffy towel. She appreciated Nick’s taste as she put on a gray striped shirt, black jeggings, and a baggy jean jacket.

“The bags are in the trunk,” Nick informed as he infiltrated the room, checking his wristwatch. “We need to leave now or we’ll miss our flight.”

He found her bent over tying her classic Chuck Taylors and gave her ass a love swat. “Hurry up. The sooner we get to Mexico, the sooner I  can strip the birthday girl down to her birthday suit. She’ll watch me eat her sweet birthday cake then I’ll give her something to blow on.”

His expressive plans injected liquid lust into her bloodstream and circulated through her entirety.

She raked her teeth over her bottom lip at the delicious sting then straightened her spine, swirling her heels to face him. “If the birthday girl is blowing, doesn’t she have to make a wish?”

“Oh, she’ll be wishing and begging for all sorts of things by the time I’m done with her,” he guaranteed, a guileful gleam in his eyes as he ran a tongue across his teeth predatorily.

A week ago, Nick warned her of his plans to celebrate her birthday. From what she gathered, much like their honeymoon eleven years ago, she anticipated not leaving the booked penthouse much—if at all.

A chauffeur carted them to LAX and Nick dealt with their carry-on bags. The check-in queue for American Airlines was ridiculously long. A teenaged girl belonging to a family of four ogled Nick suspiciously, snapping photos and typing away at her cell. Expectedly, the TSA line wasn’t much better.

Tallulah endured the security measures first. After retrieving her things from a plastic tray at the conveyor belt’s metal counter, she furrowed her brow as a TSA agent instructed Nick to step aside. Her luggage bag made the cut, but his didn’t. At a separate counter, gloved hands unzipped his carry-on and sifted through its contents. The agent’s eyebrows shot up as she discovered whatever stirred concern. She relinquished it to its owner. As they departed from the airport security zone, Tallulah asked him what that was all about.

“Your birthday presents,” he answered. She blinked in surprise, her jaw hanging open as she deciphered the exact nature of her birthday presents.

“No time to waste, sweetcakes. We’ve got a flight to catch,” Nick prompted teasingly over his shoulder, his confident stride carrying him closer to their flight’s terminal.

They flew first-class on a full flight. Apparently, February was a popular month for snowbirds and families to skedaddle to Mexican resort cities for sun and fun.

Shortly after the airplane ascended off the tarmac, she adjusted her stylish shades, propped her cheek on Nick’s shoulder, and dozed off, the last night’s unclear events still draining her energy away. During the 150-minute flight to Los Cabos, a flight attendant offered booze, but the couple declined. Tallulah lost a taste for liquor and intended on swearing off it for a long while. She slurped down lots of complimentary water until her bladder screamed for relief.

In between first-class and business class, curtains encased a narrow entryway which held a lavatory. Tallulah slipped inside and handled her business. She unlocked and opened the door, revealing her ex-husband. Naturally, she assumed he wanted a turn, but when she attempted to sidestep him, he clasped her nape proprietorially and forced her back into the cramped space, sealing them both inside.

By his doing, their mouths smashed and his tongue breached the seam of her lips to tangle with hers. His grip on her nape tightened while his unoccupied hand drove between their sandwiched bodies to roughly stroke her pussy through her jeggings. His illicit kiss enthralled her. She understood the wrongness of this stolen moment, but she didn’t want it to end. She didn’t want him to stop, but he did, impelling her to whimper as his teeth seized and released her bottom lip to exhibit his dominance over her.

His petting didn’t relent, engineering a flood of wanton need and crude pleasure to overwhelm her. She cocked her head back, grinding into his palm. She moaned his name, inspiring him to smile darkly.

“I bet this pussy is soaking wet for me, isn’t it?”

She shuttered her eyes and nodded distraughtly.

“Good. I plan to lick it dry,” he promised, sealing it with a final kiss.

Nick abandoned her in the lavatory. She panted to recover from him; her body a jittery mess. She faced the sink and pulled off her shades to douse her bothered flesh. She returned to her seat five minutes later and pressed the overhead flight attendant button. A cocky Nick smirked as she politely requested a cup of ice. She crunched and crunched, alleviating her sexual frustrations.

The airplane landed at Los Cabos International Airport a quarter past one o’clock. A chauffeur awaited them near the arrivals entrance doors, holding a Brian Lochlann sign. Brian Lochlann was one of Nick’s false names he used during his travels to protect his privacy. The chauffeur carted them to the luxuriant beachside resort twelve miles away. Once in the lobby, a receptionist serviced them.

She typed away on her keyboard, a sympathetic frown blooming. “I’m sorry, Senor Lochlann, but a late checkout hindered our cleaning staff’s ability to prepare the penthouse for your arrival. Though they are working diligently, it’s still not done yet. Please, accept our sincerest apologies. Perhaps, you and your wife would enjoy courtesy drinks at our five-star bar for this inconvenience.”

“No need. We’ll wait here in the lobby,” Nick stated.

“Our bellhop will take care of your luggage,” the receptionist informed, ringing a service bell to signal one over. She instructed the young man in Spanish. He nodded, gathered their luggage, and departed. Nick remained at the reception desk to confirm his list of accommodations were in place.

An abundance of seating areas dotted the palatial lobby and Tallulah chose an armchair near an artificial waterfall fountain. She crossed a leg over her other as she played a crossword game. Halfway into her third round, a text notification materialized on her cell screen. Her heartbeat quickened as she saw it was from Nick. She looked up to find him still at front desk. Tallulah chewed her lower lip as she tapped on the digital warning to unwrap the message.

Nick: I have so many things in store for you.

Nick: But I can’t decide how I want you first

Nick: Since you’re the birthday girl, which would you prefer: handcuffs, blindfold, or both?

Tallulah: None of them above

She knew how cruel Nick could be. She needed her hands, sights, and wits to survive him and his plans.

Nick: Alright, both then.

She pouted but didn’t text him back.

It took another hour for the housekeepers to finish cleaning the penthouse. During that time, she avoided Nick’s gaze as she stewed on his words: I have so many things in store for you. The bellhop escorted them across the atrium and boarded an exclusive elevator bank to the resort’s eight-grand-per-night signature penthouse suites. Theirs was on the topmost floor. A housekeeper hurriedly pushed her cart out as they stepped onto the private floor.

Tallulah smiled kindly at the gorgeous uniformed woman, but she was met with a glare. She wasn’t offended as she understood it was a difficult task to scrub a penthouse from top-to-bottom in such a short time.

Mammoth arrangements of red roses in towering crystal vases garnished the 8-thousand square foot penthouse. The aroma of fresh flowers assaulted her nose. An astonished Tallulah explored. The three bedrooms drenched in candles and rose petals overlooked the turquoise ocean. An adorable V-Day teddy bear sat on the dresser opposite to the master bed. A voluminous terrace contained a firepit, an infinity pool, a home cinema, and furniture perfect for relaxation and sun naps. Beyond the terrace, a perfect view of the vast sky and glittering ocean stretched on for her viewing pleasure.

Nick embraced her waist from behind as she admired the scenery.

“This place is gorgeous,” she gushed.

“Wait until I take you under the moon and stars,” he said. “You scream at the Milky Way when I make you cream on my cock.”

Not if or how-about. He made up his mind about this and he intended on fucking her on this very terrace underneath the night sky sometime in the immediate future. Her pussy moistened at the prospect.

“Are you ready for me, Desiree?” he queried throatily.

She breathed out a shaky excited yes.

“Take every stitch of clothing off,” Nick commanded; desire marinated into his command.

“Out here?” she asked, frantically glancing about the terrace as if she could diligently pinpoint the hiding places of paparazzi and voyeurs.

He spun her to face him. “With all this sunlight, I want to drink you in then take you inside and feast on you. It’s just us, Desiree. No one can see us if we’re in the top penthouse.”

She reflected on his assurance and nodded. Hesitance controlled her body as she stripped down, imagining there was a live audience. She salvaged her vulnerability by cupping her breasts, guarding her nipples from his eyes. The sun beamed down on her as she and her faults stood before him.

Nick observed her silently, his expression unreadable. She fidgeted underneath his indiscernible gaze. The intimate quiet lingering beneath the ocean breeze, rustling of waves, and distant screech of seagulls unsettled her.

“I want to see all of you, Desiree,” he ordered.

She lowered her hands reluctantly and tilted her chin up to align their sights as he invaded the slither of distance between them. His calloused palm cradled her cheek as his mouth swooped down to capture hers. His tongue caressed hers tenderly. This kiss was a gentler beast compared to the one he ambushed her with in the airplane lavatory. On the sunlit terrace, she blossomed for him, the salty wind sweeping her insecurities and uncertainties away.

Sweet affection gave way to spirited passion as their tongues danced and lips moved to a needy rhythm. Her arms coiled around his neck and lured him to bridge their height differences. He palmed her ass then braced her thighs, using his brawn to hoist her. For as long as she’d known him, his might had always been a marvel to her. His muscles never strained or struggled when he rose or carried her. It further proved he could handle all of her.

She lorded over him and turned the tides of dominance to her favor. Their mouths engaged in a war of greed as he navigated them back into the penthouse, journeying toward the master suite. He narrowly avoided a hundred rose arrangement only to bump into another. He growled a curse as the vase wobbled, but the sheer amount of floral stabilized its posture.

She broke the kiss to giggle.

“I doubt you’ll find anything funny when I fuck you silly,” he theorized huskily.

The statement chopped clean through her lighthearted mood. Excitement pulsated within her like a secondary heart, blasting spurts of arousal to her moist pussy. He parked her onto the immense bed adorned in rose petals but didn’t join her. He instructed her to crawl to the bed’s edge and sit on her knees.

She obeyed, aching to know his next decree. He towered over her like a silent cruel god contemplating how to punish her. He slithered a satin eye mask out his pocket, trapping her eyes behind the smooth fabric. She reached up to graze the blindfold, but Nick captured her fingertips, steering her forearms to turn her outstretched wrists up.

A hard bubble of breath catching in her throat as metal sung. Handcuffs wreathed her wrists firmly. A heavy hand grasped her chin and angled it high. He branded a searing kiss on her mouth, its heat imprinting his ownership of her heart and soul forevermore. He severed the connection and she blindly sought his lips, yearning for him to come back to her.

He pushed her onto her back. “Lace your fingers, put them on your head, and don’t you dare move them.”

She stewed in profound anticipation as his footsteps roamed and hands rummaged through all his secret weapons. Her boisterous heartbeat engulfed her sense of hearing, leaving his lecherous caress on her parted thighs to announce his return to her. His touch was half-worship half-assertive as his rough palms spilled down her thighs and eased them wider.

Something that wasn’t him coasted between her folds, coating itself with her essence. Its fat trip drew an invisible ring around her clit, coaxing a hungry moan out of her. It glided down to her entrance and sunk in one curved inch by inch, nestling perfectly against her hidden spot. Rubbery prongs sandwiched her clit. Without warning, the toy awoke. She cried out and arched her back as powerful vibrations soaked into her pussy.

“How does the birthday girl feel about her first present?” he inquired cockily as he fucked her in shallow slanted thrusts to trigger her sweet spot and long ears strummed her pink nub meanly. Acute pleasure soared through her, driving her to writhe.

Tallulah deemed his question as rhetorical, so she didn’t answer. Not that she could anyway. He and that toy reduced her to a state of being where her mouth only huffed, gasped, and cried. Instead, her body should’ve sufficed as an reply. He got his answer as she rocked desperately to meet the toy’s thrusts. He got his answer as she grounded her clit against the battering rabbit ears. He got his answer as she arched her spine to exhibit the potent trajectory of wanton ecstasy firing through her as he wielded her birthday present against her. He got his answer as her thighs quivered and her chest heaved.

Even as she fell apart, her obedience remained in tact as she kept her cuffed hands on her head, clenching her tresses to battle the urge to reach out to her lover and tormentor. A violent orgasm denotated within her. The toy’s relentless pulses attacked her, escalating her to new frightening heights. As her intoxicant climax died, so did the toy. He slid it out delicately. A move contradictory to how roughly his tongue dived into the lips of her center to lap up the cream of her arousal.

“I’ve been dying to taste this pussy all day,” he groaned. “I can’t get enough.”

Her self-control and compliance to his authority collapsed hand-in-hand. Her imprisoned hands landed on the crown of his head as if she feared he’d leave. He didn’t hold back as he feasted on her. His wolfish mouth produced a symphony of vulgar wet noises which coaxed more sweet moisture from her. He trapped her sensitive nub in his mouth for a crude suck that curled her toes and wrested another orgasm.

He kissed her pussy goodbye and flipped her onto her belly, knocking out what little air she had left in her. Her teeth pinned her bottom lip to stifle a moan as his palm struck her ass.

“I told you to keep your hands on your hand.” His belt buckle clinked as he undid it. Metal teeth unzipped. Clothes rustled. He grabbed her hips and forced her onto her weakened knees. Her body wasn’t ready as his stiff cock drove into her. His intrusion was unkind, its power impelled her knees to give out. She flopped forward bonelessly, escaping his cock.

“Uh-uh, Diamond. You’re going to this dick like a good birthday girl,” he asserted gruffly, snatching her hips up to plant her on her knees.

Tallulah didn’t possess the strength to support her upper body, so she pressed her cheek helplessly against rose petals and luxuriant bedding. An unparallel dick-down demanded surrender and acceptance. His proprietorial gripe on her left asscheek piloted her to bounce on his shaft. The position’s angle gave her no relief, his strokes hitting her secret just right. Her sated and saturated pussy swallowed every ruthless inch of him. His grunts were uncivil and feral, which complimented the bestial nature of how he rutted into her.

Her imprisoned fists clenched the bedding as she unraveled, her core clasping him in a tight frantic tempo as her third orgasm shredded her apart. He fucked her through it in pursuit of his own undoing, spearing through her spasming canal.

He growled an expletive as he spilled into her. His brawny grip was the only thing keeping her in place, but when he released her, she slid off his dick like a glob of damp brown flesh.

“Happy birthday day, Diamond.”

{}{}{}

Hours after nightfall, Tallulah laid atop Nick. Her ear rested on his pectoral, his steady heartbeat a sweet melody. His fingers skimmed up and down her backbone. Neither were asleep. Both were lazily content.

“Best birthday ever,” she whispered.

He chuckled softly. “Sing your praises when it’s over, Desiree. The birthday fun’s only begun. I got a lot more up my sleeve.”

She nuzzled her cheek against his chest. “Can’t wait.”

“You said that last night too,” he briefed.

She propped her chin on his chest to look at him, arching an eyebrow. “Why do I have a feeling I said and did a lot of things last night?”

“Well, you ignored my texts, so I had to come get you,” he said. “You were so drunk I had to carry you back to the car. We were having a mighty important conversation, but you got sick and I pulled over so you could throw up in the bushes. Once we got home, I discovered eight phone numbers in your purse.”

An embarrassed Tallulah grimaced through his recollection, but gaped in delight when she heard his last sentence. “Eight phone numbers? Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he stated dourly, bitterness frosting his blue gaze.

She rolled her eyes, unable to contain her unfolding smile. “Is Nicholas Lachlan Bryant—dare I say—jealous?”

“You damn right.”

“Those numbers and the guys attached to them mean nothing to me,” she swore.

“You said that too,” he divulged.

She tilted her head. “Did you believe me then?”

He brushed aside a tress which curtained her right eye. “I believed everything you told me last night.”

“What else did I tell you?” she asked eagerly.

“The truth as to why you’ve been so stressed lately.”

Her smile crumbled away, her playfulness evaporating. “Oh, I see.”

“You’re not worthless. You’re utterly fuckin’ priceless to me, Desiree. If the spotlight and fame is too much for you, I’ll walk away from actin’,” he said.

Unadulterated shock yanked her into an upright position and her thighs straddled his waist. “What? Nick, no! Acting is your passion.”

“No, you’re my passion,” Nick amended as he laid beneath her, rising his palm to cup her cheek. “All those years ago, I only fell love with actin’ because you loved it. After Thibault’s arrest and our divorce, actin’ was all I had left of you. Now, I have you back in my arms, you really think I’m gonna let it be the thing that destroys you or our family? I think the fuck not.”

Her shock dwindled, a gentle tenderness flourishing in its stead.

“Nick,” she trailed off, snuggling her cheek into his comforting palm.

“I can live without actin’,” he said, his digits grazing a birthmark on her neck, “but I can’t live without you. Been there, done that and it ain’t happenin’ again. I love you and only you, Desiree. Flaws and all.”

Her chest tightened as emotions swelled in her heart. Her gaze became watery.

“I know I said you get control how fast or slow we go and I know we’ve been only back at this for four months, but I never stopped lovin’ you, Desiree. You ain’t gotta say it back. I just—”

Tallulah swooped down to interject his speech with a warm kiss and a heartfelt confession. “I love you too.”

“Say it again,” he demanded throatily.

“I love you too, Nicholas Lachlan Bryant,” she repeated, pecking his lips. “Flaws and all.”

A sweet peck mutated into a sloppy passionate kiss. “It’s been so long since I’ve heard you say those words to me.”

He growled in protest as she retreated, smiling slyly.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” she chanted as she showered a trail of lingering kisses down his neck and chest, branding a final kiss over his heart. “I don’t want us to walk away from acting, Nick. We’ve come too far to fade away into the shadows. For years, I’ve wanted to be taken seriously as an actress. The Oscars and Eugene’s indie film could change our careers. I can’t say I’ll have my shit together by tomorrow morning or next week because I won’t, but I will try on my own to do better for you and Milo. I just need time and…love.”

“I’ll give you all that and more, Desiree,” he vowed.

Tallulah traced a fingertip around his nipple, relishing how swiftly it stiffened. “Mm, what exactly does more entail?”

His cock thickened against her bottom and his hips bucked playfully to propel her to bounce once. “You’re sitting on more, Diamond.”

“I’ve always wanted to see more up close.” She gave him a naughty wink as slithered down the landscape of his sinewy body and disappeared under the sheets to see, feel, and taste more.

 






Chapter End Notes:

After writing this chapter, I realized Mexico needs another chapter. I am unsure of its length, but ya'll need to see Nick and Tally in Mexico living their best lives before the messy saga begins. I hope you enjoyed this update. I'm truly in love with my new writing routine. I don't think I've churned out this many updates so consistently in years, but I'm here for it! 







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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.