Bonus #2: Why do you think?

Hello!

I did not receive any complaints, so I plan on continuing these bonuses, periodically, with no warning.

Since the support for them is high, if you do not like them or they pull you out of the story, please skip them.

Again, this chapter has nothing to do with the main story; consider it a parallel universe; it is an extra, hence free.

Quick disclaimer this chapter bears a dubious consent trigger warning.

As always, thank you for reading and for your continued support!

Undercover_Ostritch (Ostrich Ostrich)

**

"Cut, great take!"

The director yells.

They sound different from usual, but that could be the blood rushing in my ears.

Pulling my body up from the counter is hard, but the worst is meeting Marko’s hard cock tucked in his boxers, with my centre as I lift; thank heavens for the apron and nude panties to keep me from overexposing myself.

My rectification of the apron, to keep his gaze from my chest, is quick, not like he hasn’t seen them before, but since the trailer, our scenes together feel different.

“Excuse me.”

I mutter quickly, with my head down, so I do not have to meet the silver of his gaze. Their intensity was one thing but wholly another when they stared down at me as his pelvis rocked into me to mimic the kitchen sex scene.

This is the first time in my life that I feel like prey to a beast.

Good God! I can feel my wetness even more seated.

“How many times?”

His question catches me off guard partly because he hasn’t moved an inch since my ‘excuse me’ but mostly because I know what he is asking, even without context.

‘How many times did I make you cum.’

My mouth feels dry, and my throat hoarse; if it were truly acting, I would not feel this way, and my moans would not have been that rough or raw, but more than that, I would not have orgasmed as he rubbed onto me.

How many times? I have no idea, but my first occurred when he pinned me to the door with my back to him.

I am not this unprofessional, but his mouth on my panties kept playing mercilessly on repeat in my mind. Acting the ‘flight back scene’ was terrifying; I had forgotten how silver his gaze was, how intense they were, how he smelled, how he felt, how big his body was, and how hard he felt to press against.

His hands fly to my hair, tugging the length harshly so that I have no choice but to meet his gaze.

“I asked you a question, Alba. How many times?”

The silver of his eyes maintains their darkness as the flesh between his hips grind into me.

A sharp inhale leaves my lips before every siren in my being blares to life.

Is he aware of where we are?

Adding on to that, how can he hold me responsible for anything when he was the pervert? He was the one who came while watching me watch him.

Hold up…that didn’t come out right.

“Alba!”

Janine’s voice sounds from across the set, and instantly I push myself from his body, drag my ass over the island counter and hop off the other side.

Thank goodness for the nude panties I had on; it would have been painful to slide bare butt due to the friction...now it only stung because of his spanks.

A warm and fluffy gown covers my shoulder and prevents the crew from seeing more of my nudity.

“Gosh, you must have been freezing.”

Janine utters.

Freezing? Right, it’s two a.m., and the set is cold.

So, why am I on fire?

“The camera crew says you are done for the day. Is it okay if I head home? My cat sitter is sending me morbid texts.”

“Sure, but before then, is there anywhere I can get warm lemon water?”

“I can get that for you; I’ll bring it to your trailer.”

“Thanks, Janine.”

**

My reflection in the dressing mirror looks wild. My lips are plump, hair mussed, skin bruised, and eyes heated.

Peeling off every garment is easy; the cold doesn’t seem to get to me.

Still, the bruises on my body only seem to increase.

My neck, shoulders, ass…everything holds his mark.

Is this acting in the big leagues, or is he toying with me?

A knock sounds on the door of my trailer, so I grab my gown and wrap myself with it before busying myself on the make-up table.

“That was fast; you can enter, Janine, thanks; just place it on the-”

My words halt in my throat; the reflection in the mirror is not Janine’s.

"Y-you shouldn't be in here."

I utter as I stand from the dresser to gaze at the bear-like man behind me as if the mirror is faulty.

He doesn’t say anything, merely places the lemon water in hand on the stand near the trailer’s door and turns the door’s lock.

"Why…why are you locking that?"

“Why do you think?”

I swallow dryly.