Work Text:
“Well, do you want to rehearse the scene again or not?” Richard looked at me expectantly.
Pursing my lips, more in frustration than anything else, I regarded him wearily before replying, “Yes, I suppose we should.”
I had been the understudy for this role and had been given the chance to be on stage when the original actress fell and broke her leg. I had had exactly one week to rehearse with Richard and the rest of the cast. Opening night was two nights away, so we needed to rehearse as much as we could.
I had no trouble during rehearsal with the rest of the cast, but Richard and I had some pretty intense scenes with just the two of us and I kept screwing up. I don't know why, but he made me nervous. Maybe it was the height difference - I was only a couple inches over five feet to his over six feet. Maybe it was the fact that he was, despite being sweet and polite, a physically dominating presence. In any event, I was intimidated by him.
The particular scene we were rehearsing called for him to shove me over a table top, yelling the whole time while I tried to verbally defend myself. We didn't quite have the timing down right.
Today we decided to rehearse until we got it right. We had the stage to ourselves, the others having gotten bored and wandering off.
“We've got to get this right. It's a key scene in the play. Shall we begin?” Richard gestured to me.
Nodding my head and sighing, I replied “Yes, let's.”
Taking my place in front of him, facing him, we began. He said his first line, then I said mine. We were supposed to be having an argument, a lovers' spat, so there were raised voices, us arguing back and forth. I took the few steps away from him, to stand in front of the table with my back to him, as the script called for, giving him my next line while he walked up behind me.
The next part of the script called for him to shove me over the edge of the table. As he placed his left hand on my neck and his right on my shoulder and pushed, I realized someone had placed a chair (slightly taller than the table was high) right in front of where I was standing. Because of that, I had to raise up on my toes as Richard pushed me over.
Fighting hard to maintain my balance, I kept having to shift my feet around, brushing up against Richard accidentally and more than once.
“Be still!” he hissed in my ear hoarsely. “What are you trying to do?”
“Someone put a chair in the way and I'm just trying to keep my balance.” I replied, grunting from the effort, my head back beside his.
Sliding his right hand down from my shoulder to my hip, he ground out, “Do you have any idea what all your wiggling is doing to me, you minx?”
Surprised, I managed to get out “Wha-? What do you mean? I'm just trying to keep from falling over.”
As soon as I said it, I felt him pull my hips back against his body. And I felt, too, how aroused he'd become.
“Feel that? That's what you've done to me! Every single damned time we get to this part!” he growled. “You are a major distraction; every time we get to this part, all I can do is imagine holding you down like this and fucking you hard. If we were completely alone, I'd throw you up on that table and take you right here and now. But you are the itch I dare not scratch, I cannot scratch. And it is slowly driving me insane!”
I went completely still at that. 'Oh shit! He wants to....Oh..my....GOD!'
Clearing my throat, I said, “What do you mean, I am the itch you dare not scratch?”
Leaning his head against my shoulder, with a voice full of misery and want, he managed to get out, “Because you're someone else's....”
“No, Richard, I'm not. Not anymore. We broke up months ago, not too long after I moved here. And Richard, we ARE alone. Everyone else has gone to lunch except us. The stage manager said they wouldn't be back until around 2.”
I heard a sharp intake of breath right before he spun me around, his darkened eyes boring into mine. Afraid to breathe and not daring to take my eyes off his, I stood there, trembling in his grasp.
Narrowing his eyes, giving his face a predatory look, he demanded, “What did you say - everyone has gone to lunch?”
Unable to find my voice, I could only nod “yes” before I felt my lips being crushed by his, those large elegant hands reaching down to grab my hips and pull me closer to him. He stopped just long enough to knock that pesky chair out of our way before hoisting me up onto the table top, settling me on the edge. As he stepped between my knees, my arms came to rest on his broad shoulders, my fingers tangled in his hair and those curls at the nape of his neck.
Since we were still just rehearsing, we weren't wearing the costumes for the play but our own clothing. He was in sweats and a tee; I had chosen to wear a loose skirt paired with a simple top and my ballet flats since it had been unseasonably warm of late.
Hands that had been holding my hips now slid down to catch the hem of my skirt, pulling it upwards as his lips moved from mine down to my neck. Finding the thin elastic of my bikinis, he looped his fingers and tugged them down, stepping back just long enough to drop them. Wordlessly, he pulled the top over my head and it joined my bikinis on the floor followed in short order by my bra.
My own hands sought the bottom of his tee, sliding it up that chiseled abdomen and chest and pulling it over his head, dropping it to the floor. Our lips crashed together once more, a symphony of tongues and teeth as our hands dared to dance across one another's bodies. Unable and, truthfully, unwilling to stop myself, I reached down and hooked my own fingers in the waistband of his sweats, pushing them and his boxers down past his hips. I felt his hands on my hips once more, pulling me closer to the edge of the table and to him.
“Are you sure?” he asked, gazing into my eyes, his own full of longing.
“Yes, Richard, please.” I breathed back, my hands on his hips, urging him silently forward, as I opened my legs to him.
He pulled my legs around his waist as he thrust in slowly. “Shh....now....I've got you...just hold on to me.....”
I began to roll my hips as he thrust, our hipbones meeting, leaning back on my hands. Richard followed me, leaning forward over me. His breath was hot on my skin, as he kissed my lips then travelled down my throat to my cleavage. I almost came when he captured my nipple with his lips, his tongue doing obscene things to the tip, my back arching up as if to offer more of me to him.
I felt his hands now sliding down to grasp my calves, pulling my ankles up to his shoulders. Thrusting even deeper now, all I could do was lean back and try to breathe as I felt my body coming closer and closer to ecstasy.
“Richard...” I whimpered, feeling my body tensing, “oh god, Richard, I can't stop....” my voice broke as pure pleasure rippled through me.
His grip on my waist tightened as, with one final deep thrust, he too came, a low groan coming from him.
We stayed that way some few minutes, just floating and breathing. I finally opened my eyes when I felt him tug my ankles down from his shoulders. He was watching me and gave me a soft smile.
“Are you okay? I was afraid I might've hurt you when I pulled your legs up.” he asked, his voice full of concern.
Smiling and shaking my head, I gave him a gentle laugh. “I'm more than okay..I feel...blissful....”
He, too, laughed at that and pulled me back to a sitting position as he leaned forward and gently caught my lips with his again.
Breaking the kiss with a sigh, he rested his forehead on mine. “I suppose we should get dressed now.”
Peering up into those blue eyes, I gave him a crooked smile. “Yeah, I suppose we should.”