Previously:
Private Villa, Nice, France, February 3, 2018
"Your Lady Mary Crawley is quite the woman."
Paul nodded. "She is. You see what I was talking about?"
"Indeed. She is a prize."
"We still have months left before we finish this movie. She is committed to helping to promote The Muse also. I can see her staying with us at least through summer," Paul nodded.
"Will she commit to a third movie?"
Paul smiled. "I will see that she does."
Chapter 4:
Empire Cinema, Leicester Square, London, England, February 8, 2018
It was difficult for Mary to believe that she had been at this very cinema just under a year ago, ready to walk the red carpet with Matthew, to take their bows at the premiere of their movie, Shattered. The world knew them only as friends and co-stars back then, their relationship still kept secret by her choice and his acquiescence. What was supposed to be their triumphant return to London ended in disaster, with her father's scandal going public just before she was about to enter the theatre, and soon she was whisked away by her Aunt Rosamund to a hotel to escape the paparazzi. That night should have been the launching point for the next phase of her career, transitioning from a successful television show to films. Hollywood movie roles were waiting for her. She and Matthew would have settled in a big city in North America – Los Angeles, New York, Toronto – and spent the next years going from project to project, from strength to strength.
Instead, it all came crashing down for her and she was still struggling to get back.
Looking out at the huge crowds gathered for the Black Panther premiere tonight, she felt as though she was having some sort of out-of-body experience. Marvel and Disney spared no expense for their big budget debuts, and the scale and fanfare for this one made the Shattered premiere last year seem like going to see a high school play. The streets and surrounding area had been shutdown to traffic to control the masses of fans, many who were dressed in homemade costumes. There were easily four or five times the media and photographers stationed along the red carpet, and towering billboards for the movie were all around them. It reminded her of showing up for the Emmys or Golden Globes, except all of this was for just one film.
Matthew had a small role in the movie. There was no massive cardboard cut-out of his character anywhere to be seen, and his name wasn't on the marquee. Still, just being part of a huge film like this, and the behemoth Marvel Cinematic Universe as a whole, was a coup for him. Not only was it a generous help to his bank account and what he could command in future earnings, but it was an astute change of pace to his previous work. He was still feeling his way in his career, and the roles that he had done so far were distinct enough that no one could say he fit one particular type of character. Of course, he didn't evaluate such things in much detail. The chance came up to be in a Marvel film and he said yes because it sounded cool and so that he could keep working. Now here he was, standing before the wall of flashing cameras, posing in a bespoke Armani suit and smiling placidly as if this was a normal evening for him.
She felt detached from the entire scene, so unused to attending a premiere for a movie she wasn't a part of. They had walked the red carpet together at first, but soon the Marvel staff ushered Matthew over to sign autographs for the rabid fans, and now he was posing for photos in front of the huge movie posters. They assured her that she would be called in soon after, but that only added to her isolation. She was the pretty girlfriend kept in the corner until it was time to go to his side and smile.
"Lady Mary!" a staff member called, waving her over.
She dutifully came to stand next to Matthew, his warm smile comforting her a bit as his arm went around her waist. Pose and smile, look into his eyes, place your hand on his lapel to show off the engagement ring, now look back to the cameras, turn this way, turn that way, smile, tilt your head as he gives you a kiss on the cheek. All that was missing were the marionette strings.
They moved on, walking a few more metres before Matthew was pulled away to take a larger group shot with Chadwick Boseman, Lupita Nyong'o, Michael B. Jordan and other cast members. She stood by and waited some more, resisting the urge to take out her phone. Even though no one was paying attention to her, all it took was one photo of her looking bored, or rolling her eyes impatiently, and the gossip sites would have a field day.
That is, if anyone overseas even cared what she did anymore.
As she looked on, she wished Anna was here, if only for someone to talk to. Her assistant wasn't needed since Mary was merely a guest at this event. It was all quite a whirlwind. They were flying back to Paris tomorrow, not even spending enough time in London for her to see Edith or anyone else. Her mind wasn't quite up to socializing anyway, her thoughts on the draining filming schedule that awaited her when she got back to France.
It was business as usual after her weekend trip to the French Riviera with Paul. Aline would be arriving in Paris next week, though her scenes weren't coming up until March. The filming locations in Nice had been decided on, and Paul didn't mention the eccentric party with studio executives and investors that they had attended. That usually meant he was pleased. If he was disappointed in her somehow, he would have said something. Going right back to set and working 16-hour days meant whatever he wanted out of the weekend had been accomplished and she'd done her job.
In France she was still considered a serious actress. The promotion schedule for The Muse, the film she completed last year with Paul, was now out. She had a handful of interviews with European media coming up and a small feature for Instyle UK – the digital edition, as there was no print version anymore. It would play well with the hundreds of thousands of followers she still had online, but it would be drowned in the sea of celebrity fashion shoots that came out every day, lost in the mix of more famous actresses that graced the covers of actual magazines like Cosmo and Vogue and had millions watching their every move.
Compared to what she'd done in the past for her television show, Paladin, the campaign for The Muse was decidedly smaller. The film had no North American distribution yet with the Paris premiere coming up next month. It was as though she was in two worlds now – in Paris she was a lead actress about to release her next movie. Here in London at the bow of one of the biggest movies of the year, she was just Matthew Crawley's fiancée.
"Lady Mary! Lady Mary! This way please! To your right! To your right!"
She put her smile back on and turned to face the cameras. Placing her hand on her hip, she raised her chin slightly and posed, ignoring the blinding glare of the flashes and turning her head again after a few seconds. 'Lady Mary Crawley attends Black Panther premiere in London' would be the caption for all of these shots, and that was something, but it wouldn't lead to any of the big studios calling up her Aunt Rosamund and bringing her back in for a meeting. She was scenery now. Matthew was the star.
"Ready to go in?" Matthew asked, coming over and taking her hand.
She smiled at him and nodded. He deserved her support, not her worries. "Ready."
He smiled at her adoringly and pulled her away from the cameras towards the theatre.
She followed him in, the smile never leaving her face.
Cité du Cinéma studio complex, Saint-Denis, France, February 12, 2014
"James! James! Non, non, non," Paul scoffed, frowning at the young actor and throwing his hands up in exasperation.
"Sorry," Jimmy mumbled, actually appearing contrite for once.
Mary looked on. When Paul got into one of his moods, no one dared speak until they knew for sure it was over.
"James, the audience must believe that Orlena desires you, yes? They must see you together on the screen and know that you are a true couple. It cannot be two good-looking people up there and that is it, no. Marie is up here. You are down here," Paul growled, moving his hand up and down to make his point.
"Right, okay," Jimmy nodded.
"Seduce her, romance her, make us believe that you are winning her over. The scene is there for you to make a big impression on her and on us. Marie has set it all up for you. She is giving you the chance. Take it!" Paul demanded, waving his hand.
"Yeah, yeah, okay," Jimmy replied, glancing over at Mary apologetically.
Mary tried to suppress her smirk. It was rather funny to see Jimmy taken down a notch, especially over his performance as her lover. Paul didn't dress him down very often, but it was true that the chemistry wasn't all the way there for them yet. It was decent – they were two attractive people acting out a scene where the beginnings of their affair were taking root, but there weren't nearly the amount of sparks and tension that such a scene demanded, and Paul knew it.
"Again!" the director called, going back to his chair.
"Fuck, come on," Jimmy admonished himself, frowning as he went back to his mark.
"Jimmy," she whispered, coming over to him. "Relax. You can do this."
He looked up at her sheepishly and nodded. "I know, I know. Sorry, Mary. I thought I had it."
"Remember how we rehearsed it. I'm shy and scared, a bit in disbelief that I could have a strapping young man like you interested in me. You have to let me know that you really want me," she suggested.
"Convince you. Convince the audience. Right," he agreed.
She gave him a playful smile. "Jimmy, what does Théo want from Orlena?"
"He wants a date," he answered immediately.
She nodded. "Yes, but why?"
"Because he likes her. He thinks she's interesting. She's classier than the girls he's used to going out with. He thinks that she's above all the…" he listed.
"Jimmy," she interrupted him as the lighting crew went through their checks. "He wants to fuck her."
He grunted in surprise. "What?"
She laughed quietly, keeping her voice down. "You want to fuck me. I'm repressed, quiet, inexperienced. The only man I ever slept with before was my husband and he was boring and unimaginative. I'm this classy, sophisticated woman who is way above you, but not when it comes to sex. In the bedroom, you're the experienced one and I'm the naïve little girl. You know there's a depraved little slut inside me and you're just the man to bring it out of me. You're going to make me scream your name and go wild for you."
"Shit, Mary," he exclaimed in disbelief, taking a harsh breath.
She nodded mischievously. "None of that happens unless you can get me to agree to go on a date with you. It starts in this scene with coffee. Get me to have coffee with you and I'll be on my knees taking you in my mouth. Get me to have coffee with you and I'll be spreading my legs and begging you for it. Get me to have coffee with you and you'll be painting my face and taking a photo of me licking it all off my fingers. It all starts with coffee."
He swallowed and nodded, staring at her wide-eyed.
"Close your mouth, Jimmy," she winked.
"Lumière!" Paul called to begin the scene.
Jimmy composed himself quickly. He quirked his eyebrow at Mary playfully, his eyes lighting up for the first time all day.
She nodded and resumed her disinterested expression.
"Action!"
"This look here. That is very good," Paul stated, pointing at the screen. "Do that again in tomorrow's scene. It is a link we can use for Orlena's time with Théo."
Mary nodded. "Something unique to their relationship. She looks at him like that, and nobody else."
"Exact. Another layer of their connection that the audience can then contrast with how she is with Ludivine and Florian later on," he nodded.
"I like it," she smiled, taking a sip of her water and sitting back on the couch in his office.
"Bon. Remember, we go long tomorrow," he noted, turning away from the television on the wall to the computer on his desk.
"Just like every other day this week," she sighed.
"The schedule would be easier if you were actually here more," he replied.
She rolled her eyes. "Yes, I am aware."
He gave her a knowing look before going back to his computer. "There is someone that I want you to meet."
"All right," she answered.
"He is one of the investors from the party in Nice. Jean-Paul. He is going to be in Los Angeles for the Oscars. I will have him contact you. He wants to invest and we are close to a deal. If you can impress him, give him confidence that we have a good project, he will sign," he explained.
"I thought that you already had financing for this film," she asked.
"I do," he nodded. "This is for the next one."
She blinked in surprise. "I wasn't aware you were offering me a role in your next movie."
He grunted and looked over at her wryly. "I have not yet. But if you help me get my financing, I cannot deny you, can I?"
She smiled and nodded. "And what if I don't want to be in your next movie?"
He laughed. "You will when you see the script."
She laughed along with him. "I want to be the lead, and I want a raise, if I decide to do it."
He waved his hand. "Help me get my money, and all is possible."
She arched her eyebrow and took a sip of water, watching him closely as he went back to his computer and typed away. A mix of relief and excitement filled her. Big time actresses were offered roles without having to audition. Big time actresses went into pitch meetings to close deals, charming men to spend millions on their movies. Big time actresses had directors clamouring to work with them. Her confidence soared at Paul's faith in her. It was France, not Hollywood, but it was work, and that was worth something.
Hoops Factory, Aubevilliers, Paris, France, February 14, 2018
"Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart."
Alex shook his head and smiled ruefully as Matthew passed him the ball and came up to guard him. Alex held the ball behind his back, pausing to survey the distance between them and the basket.
"Haha. I would be having a lovely dinner with my beautiful wife right now if it wasn't for your fiancée and her demanding work schedule," Alex retorted, beginning a slow dribble and moving to his right.
"And I would be having a wonderful meal with my lovely fiancée if your wife had just blocked off the evening for her," Matthew noted, shuffling his feet and moving with him, blocking his way to the basket.
"Right," Alex grumbled. "Anna's the assistant. Mary's the actress. We both know who sets the schedule."
"That's right. It's Paul," Matthew muttered, taking a swipe at the ball and missing.
"The man clearly is not a romantic," Alex commented, dribbling the ball between his legs and moving back to his left.
Matthew grunted and scrambled to catch up as Alex moved closer to the basket, still dribbling the ball. "No, I think he's more interested in the romance he's portraying in his film, and he couldn't care less about what occurs out here in the real world."
"He wouldn't be the first director to prefer his world to ours," Alex remarked, turning his back to Matthew and backing him towards the basket.
"No, a bunch of control freaks, the lot of them," Matthew agreed, leaning against Alex's back and waving his arms to prevent his view of the basket. "They're not much different from lawyers, that way."
"Except we don't just give out orders to others and watch. We get things done," Alex replied. He pushed back against Matthew and turned to his left. When Matthew moved to cover that side, Alex spun around to his right and jumped. Matthew recovered and leapt up to block the shot, but Alex was already floating high in the air. He released the ball just over Matthew's outstretched fingers and landed on the court, watching as the ball arched through the air and dropped through the basket with a satisfying swish of the net.
"That's game," Alex declared.
"Fuck," Matthew whinged, bumping fists with Alex and turning to go fetch the ball. "Best of 9."
"No," Alex answered. "We've still got to shower, change and drive back down. I've spent most of the evening with you and I would like to see my wife at least a little bit before dawn."
"Fine," Matthew relented, putting the basketball back on a nearby rack and following Alex to the change room. "It's almost midnight anyway."
By the time they finished showering and changing out of their gym clothes, the facility was just about to close. They wandered out into the dark evening and got into Alex's rented Range Rover for the half hour drive back to downtown.
"I read your treatment last night," Alex advised. "The idea's actually not bad."
"That's high praise coming from you," Matthew smiled. "I should have it in final form in time for our trip to Los Angeles. There's a few people I want to show it to when I'm there."
"What does Mary think about it?" Alex asked.
"I haven't really talked to her about it. She's always so busy," Matthew shrugged. "I explained the idea to her and she was mildly interested, but it didn't dazzle her, or anything. She said she would get around to reading it eventually, but she hasn't yet."
Alex nodded. "You still see it as a project for the two of you, though?"
"Ideally, yes," Matthew confirmed.
"Well, I'll tell you right now that if you could get someone bigger attached to it, that would make it easier for me to get you financing. Just saying. You and Mary I can sell to my clients, but you and someone more well-known pretty much sells itself, especially given the timing and budget you're proposing" Alex stated.
Matthew nodded. "I'm pretty confident Mary will do it. We could shoot it in 30 days or so, and we could film it anywhere."
"Figure it out. I can float the idea around and see what people think, but it'd be nice to have a relatively ready package to present," Alex replied.
"She'll do it. Why wouldn't she?" Matthew joked.
"Exactly," Alex agreed, smirking at his best friend. "No reason at all."
Apartment of Alex and Anna Lewis, Le Marais, Paris, France, February 14, 2018
Anna kissed Alex's lips softly, swiping her tongue across his mouth playfully before moving to his jaw and neck.
"Thank you for the flowers," she whispered, sliding down to his chest.
"Thank you for my new phone," she continued, grinding her hips against his before kissing his firm stomach.
"Thank you for the beautiful earrings," she purred, kissing his thigh, her hand taking hold of him and stroking him slowly.
"You're welcome," he choked out, breathing heavily, the feel of her naked body against his making him swell in her hand.
"My gift seems so inadequate by comparison," she drawled sultrily. "How will I ever make it up to you?"
He groaned loudly when she leaned over and kissed his length.
"I have an idea. Would you like to hear it?" she asked, smiling up at his wide eyes and teasing him with her tongue.
"Yeah," he gasped, nodding his head eagerly.
She giggled, kissing him again. A blush coloured her cheeks. It wasn't often that she was the one directing their lovemaking. She much preferred when he was in control. However, when she came home well after midnight from the set to an apartment full of lit candles, gorgeous roses and lilies, and a warm bubble bath waiting for her, she decided that she would continue from what she did last Valentine's Day and play the little minx for him. It was guaranteed that his presents for her would always be better. She bought him a very lovely tie, which would normally be a wonderful present if not for the fact that he bought her a new smartphone and a pair of gorgeous diamond and ruby earrings. The earrings and her rings were the only thing she had on right now.
"Well, first I'm going to give you some extra special attention," she smiled, licking him to make sure he got the hint. "After, when you're good and ready, I'm going to get on my hands and knees and beg you to fuck me and knock me up."
"Anna!" he blurted out, his hips bucking suddenly. "Fuck."
She laughed wickedly and took him into her mouth. Her lips and tongue gave him a mere hint of what was in store for him before she lifted off. "You love hearing me beg you, don't you, babes? You love it when you're fucking me so good and I beg you to put your baby in me?"
"Love, we don't have to talk about that. It's not the reason why…argh," he muttered, his chest rising and falling with his rapid breaths.
"Shh, it's all right," she assured him, stroking him faster. "I love you, Alex. I love you so much. You've been so good to me, so kind, and patient, and understanding. I know I've been so stupid at times over the past year, but I know now that I can face anything as long as I'm with you. Maybe it'll happen tonight, or maybe not. But just thinking about you getting me pregnant makes me so hot."
He nodded. "Fuck, that feels so good, love. I love it when you're like this."
"Mmm, you bring it out of me," she cooed. "You're so big in my hand. In my mouth."
"Fuck!" he grunted as she took him in. He kept his eyes open with great difficulty, wanting to watch her. His fingers flexed with the urge to run through her long blonde hair, or travel the planes of her smooth back to her tight bottom, now raised behind her as she tasted him over and over. Instead, he left his arms out to his sides, grabbing hold of the bedsheet and letting the sight before him and the sounds from her throat drive him delirious with need.
She released him just as his hips began to move erratically. Kissing her way up his body, she hummed contentedly when he wrapped his arms around her.
"Fuck me, babes," she whispered between kisses. "Fuck your wife. I want it so bad. Fucking give it to me hard."
He reluctantly let her go and she crawled away from him, taking hold of the headboard and luring him to her with a teasing smile and a wave of her ass. He came up behind her, reaching up and covering her hands with his. She moaned and grinded back against him, his tall, strong frame looming over her back giving her that delicious thrill of feeling so small and helpless beneath him.
"Alex!" she shouted as he eased inside, a slow and steady rhythm driving him deep. She arched her back to take him better, and turned her head to kiss him, his warm breath caressing her face.
"You're so big. Fuck, you feel so good!" she breathed, yelping as he moved his hand underneath her and played with her breast.
They found a fast rhythm, her hips fighting against his until his powerful thrusts won her obedience. She used her voice instead, her desperate and filthy words spurring both of them on. She spent first, crying out and squeezing him over and over. He eased up enough to let her calm down, then resumed as fierce and frantic as before.
"Fuck me! Fuck me, Alex! Give it to me! I want it! I want your baby!" her breath hot against cheek, her words lighting up his imagination like kindling.
"Anna!" he snarled, clutching her tight and pounding into her as hard as he could before unloading.
She let go of the headboard and fell down to the pillows. He held on to her, spooning behind her as warmth washed through both of them.
"So good," she whispered, turning her head and kissing him. "Happy Valentine's Day, babes."
He chuckled and kissed her back.
Apartment of Lady Mary Crawley, Le Marais, Paris, France, February 14, 2018
Mary blinked several times, the large red digital numbers on the nightstand clock finally coming into focus. 4 a.m. She reached out her hand lazily and found Matthew's side of the bed empty. Frowning, she lifted her head off the pillow, confused and annoyed by his disappearance.
Debating whether to go and look for him, she finally gave in and got out of bed, picking up her robe off the floor from where he had tossed it in his haste to get her into bed. Her legs ached, partly from the long day of shooting she finished last night, and mostly from the wonderful sex they had when she got home. Running her hand through her wild hair, she came out into the living room and yawned, shuffling to the sofa where Matthew was sitting shirtless, typing away on his laptop.
"Darling, I'm sorry for waking you," he said warmly, looking up at her.
"Hmph, you can make it up to me by coming back to bed. What are you doing? It's so early, or late, or whatever," she mumbled, curling up next to him on the sofa.
"I got a jolt of inspiration about a scene so I just wanted to write a few notes down before I forgot," he explained.
She blinked at the bright screen before giving up and burrowing her head into his shoulder. "Is that what we were doing? Giving you inspiration?"
He laughed and kissed the top of her head. "You were amazing, yes, but that wasn't what stirred me awake now. Although, I wouldn't be against saying it was, if you'll do it again."
"Come back to bed and convince me. I just might," she purred, eyes closed, her hand running up and down his chest. "God, I love riding you. It feels glorious."
He smiled and shook his head. Mary was never more unfiltered than when she was drunk, or drowsy from sleep. She forgot three quarters of the things she said at moments like these, which made them all the more comical.
"What's this scene about, anyway?" she asked.
"It's one of the earlier scenes," he replied. "You have a whole conversation with your mother. I was having trouble keeping it on point and not making it too sappy, and I got the idea of having you doing yoga together. The extra distraction of having to move around will keep the talk on message without making it seem too contrived."
"Yoga with Mum? Yes, that sounds like genius," she teased.
"Would you rather be getting manicures? That seems rather clichéd," he retorted.
"I don't know. It depends on the character," she suggested.
"The character most certainly would not go and get a manicure with her mum," he noted. "You would understand that if you had read the script."
"Yes, well it's on my list, together with the dozens of other things I haven't gotten to," She muttered.
"Try and read it before we go to Los Angeles next month, please. Alex thinks he can line up funding for us if I can confirm that you're involved," he requested.
"Fine. Though I won't promise to commit without going over it thoroughly," she warned. "I am in demand, you know. Paul wants me for his next film."
"Already?" he questioned, frowning at her resting face. "You've barely started on this one."
"I'm just that good," she answered smugly. "It would fill a nice gap in my schedule, potentially. With The Muse coming out next month and Orlena probably not until late summer, I won't have any offers earlier than the Fall at least, so I could film with Paul from June to September. Anyway, it's all just an idea for now. I haven't read his script either."
"I see," he mumbled.
"Mmm," she sighed, falling silent as she relaxed against him.
He spent another fifteen minutes typing up the last of his notes before closing his laptop and carrying her back to bed. She fumbled with the tie of her robe, so he removed it for her, rolling his eyes as she settled under the duvet naked. He spooned in behind her, aroused, but knowing full well she was as likely to fall asleep on him as she was to respond to any of his advances at the moment. He slipped his foot between hers and pulled her close. Her hand reached down and covered his, her slowed breathing telling him it was time to sleep. The revelation that she might be doing yet another movie with Paul Chaput lingered in his mind for a while until he was able to doze off.
Cité du Cinéma studio complex, Saint-Denis, France, February 17, 2018
"Again!" Paul snarled, muttering a string of curses in French. He stomped back to his chair, firing off instructions to Edna, who stood patiently by with her tablet, not saying a word.
"Shit," Mary scoffed, walking off-set so she could grab her water bottle from Anna.
"You've got about an hour," Anna reminded her. "Any more than that is pushing it."
"I know," Mary replied tightly, shaking her head. "At the rate we're going, I'll be lucky to make it to London by tomorrow night, let alone tonight. Go and call Matthew and let him know what's going on, please. Have the car get him first and collect me here afterwards. We can go to the airport straight away after. Are you all right to get back home?"
"Don't worry about me. Alex will come get me, or I'll just take a cab. Let's just get you out on schedule," Anna reassured her.
"Thank you," Mary smiled, handing her back the water bottle.
Anna nodded and left to go call Matthew.
"Marie."
Mary looked up and smiled as Aline came over. They exchanged cheek kisses and the taller woman rubbed her arm gently.
"It's a bit of a disaster tonight, isn't it?" Mary asked, rolling her eyes. "He's in one of his moods."
Aline laughed and nodded. "I've seen worse, but this is bad, yes. You are wonderful, but the others are not doing what he wants."
"I know. I'm trying to encourage them, but they're not used to working with him. I think all the yelling is freaking them out. They can't focus," Mary sighed.
The scene was actually not too difficult. Mary's character was meeting with her late husband's friend to deal with some final Estate business. The scene was supposed to shift to a dream sequence in Orlena's mind where the friend and some family members were interrogating her about her affair with Jimmy's character, Théo. The string of rapid-fire questions was where it was all coming apart, and Paul had cut the scene short eight times now, not pleased with the take at different points.
"Try it as less confrontational, maybe. It could be they are nervous about your responses to the questions," Aline suggested.
Mary arched her eyebrow in thought. "I am supposed to be standing up for myself though, showing that this version of Orlena is stronger than before."
Aline nodded. "Yes, but you are also damaged still from the death of your husband. Maybe try and breakdown a little, appear smaller, weak. It will shock the others and they won't be so on edge."
"I'll see," Mary replied, leaving her and going back on-set to take her mark.
They ran the scene again, moving through the opening easily and transitioning into the interrogation.
"Do you love him? Your Théo?"
"I barely know him," Mary answered quietly in French.
"Then why? Why do you go to him? Why do you let him do all of these things to you? Why do you behave the way you do for him?"
She looked down at her lap, rather than glare back at the actress asking the question. When she recited her line, her voice wavered and broke. "It's none of your business. It's lust, and the need for excitement, and something in him that I...want."
Paul frowned at Mary's different delivery, but let the scene run.
"He fills my mind, the way he touches me, the way he shows me things I've never done before. I don't want to be without him…" she whispered, closing her eyes briefly before looking up again cautiously.
The other actors fired their lines off with perfect cadence. Mary cringed with each harsh accusation, each warning and threat. As the last line hovered in the air, she cringed and looked away, as though the words had physically left bruises.
"Cut!" Paul called from the side.
She opened her eyes and looked over at him, a shudder going through her, wondering what his reaction would be.
"Bon," he nodded, meeting her eyes. "One more time just like that."
He looked away and said something to Edna.
Mary glanced over at Aline and shared a happy smile with her.
71st British Academy Film Awards, Royal Opera House, London, England, February 18, 2018
'Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome the Winner of the BAFTA for Best Supporting Actor, Matthew Crawley for Shattered!'
"I've got to go," Matthew said apologetically, smiling at Mary as the staff was waving him on towards the microphone for his press conference.
"Of course you do," Mary smiled, smoothing her hands over the shoulders of his suit.
"My mind is all over the place at the moment. I hope I can count on you not to laugh if I give a stupid answer up there," he shrugged.
"You can always count on me," she nodded.
He grinned and kissed her quickly before turning and stepping out to the applause of the gathered media, his freshly won BAFTA award in his left hand.
"Thank you, thank you," he said, smiling as he reached the microphone and adjusted it to his taller height.
'Congratulations, Matthew,' the moderator gushed. 'Your first win, and this sort of fairytale just keeps going for you, doesn't it?'
"Well, I don't know if it's much of a fairytale, not one that many children would enjoy reading, anyway," he answered deprecatingly.
The media laughed.
Mary smiled.
'Yes, perhaps not a classic, but you've been scooping every award in sight, it seems. This must be quite the experience for you, being that it's your first time nominated and all.'
He nodded. "Yes, I can't really believe it's happening. I was lucky enough to be part of a great movie, with a wonderful director, and an amazing cast and crew. To be singled out is a bit strange to me, really, but I'm grateful, and hopefully it is a bit of recognition for the entire film and everyone involved."
'Okay, on to questions, now. Yes, at the back, there.'
Mary watched as Matthew fielded questions from the gathered entertainment press. The backstage Winners Room was a rite that followed every awards show. The bashful winner, the media heaping on their praise, the photographers waiting to snap away at the victor posing with his trophy – it all was part of the evening. She understood how frazzled Matthew was. When you were out there, your thoughts were running at lightspeed and even basic queries made no sense at all. He still charmed them though, smiling and nodding, scratching the back of his head and shrugging his shoulders. The BAFTAs had taken on such an international flavour in recent years that whenever a homegrown Brit won one of the major awards, the response was all the more intense. There was genuine surprise here when Matthew won the Golden Globe, mild interest when he took home the SAG award, but now that he added the BAFTA, the story in the papers tomorrow would be how he was poised for the Oscar next month.
Her fiancé, an Oscar winner. She couldn't even begin to process that possibility. She barely could get her head around that he had already won what he had so far.
'You've got Black Panther out now, and the Martin Scorsese film, The Irishman, and another movie on the way. What's next for you, Matthew?'
"I don't quite know, actually," he replied. "Right now, we're in Paris. Mary's got two films coming out this year. I'm really looking forward to that. I know they'll be brilliant. Erm…I'm always grateful for the scripts that get sent my way, so I'll go over it all with Mary and my agent and figure out what my next move will be. For now, I'm really enjoying tonight. It used to be that I had to struggle just to find work, so it's quite a luxury to have some choice in the matter now."
She looked down at the floor and shook her head. Even in the midst of his triumph, he went out of his way to mention her. It was kind of him, but no one cared what she was up to. Everyone wanted a piece of him.
The British film community was small and tight knit. They had already run into Natalie, Gwendoline Christie, Sophie Turner, Eddie Redmayne and a host of their other friends and acquaintances tonight. Matthew was one of those people that everyone wanted to see do well. He was nice, for one, hard working and humble, as well, and treated everyone with respect, regardless of their status in the industry. He had come up through the ranks and not let his leap to stardom change who he was, and everyone loved that about him. At the parties tonight, on their home soil, he would be treated like a King.
"I survived," he sighed in relief as he rejoined her offstage. "I didn't sound too ridiculous, I hope?"
She arched her eyebrow and smiled at him playfully. "No more than usual."
He laughed and kissed her cheek. Taking her hand, he led her away to the next stop to pick up their gift bags.
"Mary."
Mary turned around and gave him a cold glare. "Tony. I was thinking you would have the good sense to stay away from me tonight. I clearly have overestimated you again."
"Can't we at least be civil to each other?" Tony asked, giving her a pleading look. "We were so close once. There's no reason why we can't…"
"I'm with Matthew now," she interrupted him. "And even if I wasn't, we were never as close as you imagined, and after your betrayal, just talking to you is requiring all of my patience and restraint. Leave me alone, Tony. There's nothing to be said between us."
"So that's it? You send Matthew to do the deed and now you're lost to me," he whinged.
"Understand well, you never had me to lose!" she snarled. "You ruined our friendship when you decided to ally yourself with Mabel against me, the moment you threw away the bond between our families in your twisted scheme to seduce me. We would have stayed friends, Tony. I never would have felt for you what you hoped I would, but we would have been friends. You decided that wasn't enough for you, and this is what you're left with."
"I suppose it's easy to disregard my affection for you when you have the new golden boy of British cinema in your thrall," he fired back. "I never knew what you saw in him to begin with, Mary, and I certainly thought you were mad to take up with him again. But I see now that you were a step ahead of all of us, as usual. Mabel ruined your career, but you've still found your way into all of these events through Matthew."
Her eyes narrowed, her lips pursing into a thin line as rage bubbled inside of her.
"Yes, that's it, Tony. Rather than accept Henry's offer when he was already an acclaimed star, I decided to go back to Matthew, because I could have predicted all of this happening. I didn't think it was possible for you to be even more ridiculous, but here you are," she smiled furiously.
"The fact remains that you'd have to buy a ticket to get in here if not for him," he shot back.
"Well, lucky me that I am with him, then," she replied smoothly. "To celebrate, we're going to record a video of us in bed tonight. I got the idea from Mabel."
His lip curled into a snarl.
"Good night, Tony, and good riddance," she growled, stepping past him and not looking back.
Behind the glamour of awards shows, there were always more basic realities that everyone had to deal with. Matthew liked to think of them as the universe's way of reminding anyone who thought they were high and mighty simply because they were in the entertainment business that they weren't nearly as all-powerful as they thought, that they had to contend with the same quandaries that normal people dealt with.
Such as right now, when everyone had to stand in line waiting for their cars.
He wasn't too bothered by it. With Mary at his side, he took the time to catch up with friends of theirs in the business that they never got to see. They all mainly found him, hugging him, laughing and smiling, taking selfies and checking to see which parties he was going to.
"We're heading to the airport shortly after we make a stop at Grosvenor House," he advised. "Mary's due on set tomorrow, so we have to get back."
"Oh, that's a shame," Gwen noted. "I thought you'd at least be at the Weinstein party as well. All right, I'll see you in a bit then. Congratulations again!"
He kissed her and she left to go back to her group as the line moved along.
Mary watched her leave. Taking out her phone, she glanced at the screen to check the time, a frown furrowing her brow for a moment. She fidgeted as she waited, her fingers playing with her engagement ring.
"You know what? Darling, you should stay and enjoy yourself. I'll head back on my own and you can come back tomorrow whenever you want," she declared.
"What?" he frowned, looking at her strangely. "Don't be ridiculous, I'm going with you."
"It's all right. I'll fly back as planned, but this is your night. Stay and enjoy it," she smiled.
"I won't enjoy myself at all without you here," he replied.
She sighed and caressed his cheek. "That's very sweet, but I'm honestly just going to go straight to bed once I get back. I'm absolutely knackered and I'd be useless to you, whether here or back in Paris. I can see how much you want to go out, and you should, and everyone will be looking for you."
He looked at her suspiciously. "Well, I'll at least go with you to the airport and see you on to the plane."
She rolled her eyes. "Don't be silly. I'll be fine. They've taken more than enough pictures of us together so you needn't worry about being seen alone at all the parties. Have a great time, come back tomorrow and I promise that we will celebrate properly once I get back from set."
"I don't need to go to the parties, darling," he grumbled.
"Yes, you do," she nudged him patiently. "You need to take it all in, every moment, every perk that comes with being a BAFTA winner. Besides, you may not see some of your friends for months. Now's your chance to celebrate together."
"It would be fun, I suppose," he admitted. They approached the head of the line, their limo a few cars away.
"Of course it will be," she nodded. "Go on and have fun. I'll see you tomorrow. I'll even wear that special blue outfit that you like so much."
He quirked his eyebrow. "The one with the thong?"
She smirked and whispered in his ear. "How about I don't wear any panties at all?"
He swallowed and nodded. "All right. Just text me when you take off, and when you land, and when you reach the apartment."
"I will," she agreed, kissing him lightly. "Give everyone my regards and have a great time."
He escorted her to the kerb and helped her into the waiting limo, squeezing her hand before he let go and closed the door. Watching the car pull away, he frowned slightly, holding his trophy in one hand, still wondering what had just happened.
"Matthew! Hey! Do you need a lift to the party?"
He turned around and smiled as Eddie came up and gave him a warm hug.
"That would be great, yeah," Matthew nodded. "Mary's exhausted, so she's calling it a night."
"All right, well get in, then!" Eddie laughed, motioning to the waiting limo.
Matthew piled in with Eddie and his wife and some of their friends. He was introduced all around and accepted their well wishes as the limo headed off into the London evening bound for the first of several after-parties.
Apartment of Mary Crawley, Le Marais, Paris, France, February 19, 2018
"Thanks for coming to meet me. You really didn't have to," Mary stated, looking out the window as the limo headed down the motorway from the airport.
"No problem," Anna replied. "Alex told me to go. When he heard Matthew wasn't coming back with you, he didn't want you to travel alone."
Mary smiled. "That's kind of him."
"Don't worry, I'm sure he'll expect me to make it up to him when I get back," Anna laughed.
Mary shook her head.
"Any particular reason why you decided to come back and leave Matthew in London?" Anna asked. "I can't imagine it was his idea."
"No, it wasn't," Mary shrugged. "He was so pumped up after winning, and we had so many friends around wanting to celebrate with him. I didn't really want to deny him that. The only reason he was flying back tonight was for me, so I thought why not let him stay and soak it all up? I told him to have a great time and just come back tomorrow, or later today."
"That's rather selfless of you," Anna noted.
"Selfless, yes, that's me," Mary replied.
She took out her phone to text Matthew to tell him she landed in Paris safely. Her Instagram notifications had numerous shots from the evening in London where the two of them had been tagged. Scrolling through her timeline, she saw photos of Matthew arriving at various parties with some of their friends, smiling happily, his trophy gleaming in his hand.
"Seems like he took your advice and enjoyed himself," Anna remarked.
Mary nodded and texted him.
He replied right away and told her to let him know when she got home and went to bed.
She smiled and shook her head.
"You know, I told you that you're not due on set until noon," Anna added. "You could have stayed with him. It would have been tight, but we could have made it work."
Mary shook her head. "No, that's quite all right. I made my rounds, saw everyone I needed to see. It's his night."
"Even just having breakfast with Lady Edith in the morning would have been fun. You won't be back to London for a while," Anna continued.
"I texted her. We had a nice chat," Mary shrugged. "She and Bertie are headed to Brancaster this week. Anyway, I hate to be rushed."
She gazed out the window as the lights of Paris came into view.
"Finally home," she whispered.
Wild Card Boxing Club, Hollywood, California, USA, March 1, 2018
"Three…two…one…nice…" Alex nodded.
Matthew let out a long breath, reaching up and stopping the speed bag from moving as he finished his set of punches. He turned and followed Alex over to the heavy bag, taking up his position in front of it and raising his gloved fists.
"Body first," Alex called, standing behind the bag and holding it steady.
Matthew nodded and hopped up and down several times, trying to work the fatigue out of his muscles before continuing his workout.
"One-two," Alex instructed.
Matthew bent his knees and launched a two-punch combination.
"One-two," Alex called again.
Matthew grunted as he kept punching, a left to the body, and a follow-up right to the face of the imaginary target on the large bag.
"One-two! Come on, this is fucking nothing," Alex snapped.
Matthew groaned harshly, straining from the effort.
"Henry Talbot," Alex called out.
Matthew scowled and fired again, sweat pouring down his face and arms.
"Henry Talbot," Alex repeated.
Matthew snarled and punched harder, making Alex have to brace the bag tighter.
"Henry Talbot," Alex said again.
Matthew finished with repeated right hands blasted into the imagined head of the heavy bag, yelling out as he fired the last blow with a resounding thud.
"Not bad," Alex noted, coming out from behind the bag.
Matthew bent over and rested his hands on his knees, breathing heavily. He straightened up and walked around a bit, trying to get his wind.
"Come on, old man, get over here," Alex chastised him.
Matthew gave him a rueful look before tapping gloves with him and trading places.
"One-two," Matthew said tiredly.
Alex struck with rapid punches, his hands striking quickly with practised technique. He even ducked his head back and forth in rhythm before delivering the next set of punches.
"One-two," Matthew called more forcefully, trying to get him to throw with more aggression. Alex was always very measured and composed, and even though this was just for exercise, Matthew thought his friend had plenty of stress he could work out if he let his hands fly a bit more.
Alex continued through the set, landing with perfect efficiency, his face a mask of concentration.
"Alexander Green," Matthew announced.
Alex frowned at him, pausing for a moment.
"Come on," Matthew chided him. "Alexander Green."
Alex took a deep breath, then fired off another combination.
"Alexander Green," Matthew continued, daring to say the name of the man who tried to seduce Anna into a liaison and nearly succeeded.
"Fuck," Alex grunted, hitting harder.
"Alexander Green," Matthew repeated. "Let's go! Fuck him up!"
Alex shouted with each punch, throwing his full weight behind his blows, not even bothering to stop or wait for Matthew to call out the cursed name again.
"Wow," Matthew noted when Alex finally finished and took a step back, placing his hands on his waist and breathing deeply. "Don't want to get on your bad side."
Alex huffed, giving Matthew a pointed glare before touching gloves with him and heading off to a nearby bench.
"You're sure he won't be in town this weekend, right?" Matthew asked, sliding his gloves off and unwrapping the tape from his hands.
"Tony's not, so why should he be?" Alex asked, tossing the balled up tape into the trash.
"He shouldn't, but he knows Anna will be here, that's all," Matthew replied.
Alex shook his head. "We're not going to live our lives looking over our shoulder for Mr. Green. If he tries anything, I'll be there, and if for some reason I'm not, Anna can handle him. Her jab is better than yours."
Matthew laughed and nodded.
"What about you? Ready for all the events you're going to?" Alex asked.
"I don't think I ever will be," Matthew shook his head. "Yesterday wasn't bad – just the luncheon to attend. Tonight is…the Cadillac party? Tomorrow is the worst. All the agency events."
"Joe really should be here with you. Most actors have their agents or publicists come along," Alex noted.
"That's why you're here, isn't it?" Matthew joked. "I like being on my own. It makes it harder for people to get a hold of me."
"And it makes you seem like you're not interested. The Academy pays attention to everything, remember. They don't like loners," Alex commented.
Matthew smirked. "Come on. You know I'm not going to win, so who cares what I do? I'm just here to see people, take Mary around since she's never been to the Oscars, and have a good time with you and Anna and everyone."
"You've won everything else so far," Alex pointed out, leading him into the change room.
"And I wasn't even nominated for a bunch of other important awards," Matthew shrugged. "It's not going to happen, and that's fine. I've already well exceeded everyone's expectations, including my own."
"If you say so," Alex shook his head. "I've got a few meetings tonight. I'll bring up your treatment, but no promises if anyone will want to read it."
"I'm used to that," Matthew retorted. "Whatever you can do. I appreciate it. I'm seeing Rooney at some point tonight. She was asking me about it."
"If you get Rooney and Mary in your movie, that I can pitch," Alex stated.
Matthew shook his head. "I don't have a role for her. She's too talented to waste on a bit part. She's just being kind."
"Fair enough. What's this Anna told me about we're on our own for dinner tomorrow? I thought the four of us were going out before the CAA party?" Alex asked.
"Mary's meeting with some investor tomorrow night before the agency parties. She's doing a favour for Paul," Matthew shrugged. "Something about lining up financing for his next movie."
"She's doing another one with him?" Alex asked in surprise.
"I don't know. She hasn't seen a script. You know Mary. She likes being chased, and if I'm being honest, her options are pretty limited still, so she's open to anything," Matthew answered, taking off his sweaty t-shirt.
Cecconi's, West Hollywood, California, USA, March 2, 2018
Mary followed the hostess through the restaurant and out to the patio. The sun had just set and the place was already busy. Most of the industry was gearing up for all the agency parties tonight. She had about a two-hour window before she had to meet Matthew and the others at the CAA event. Aunt Rosamund assured her that it was fine to show up whenever she wanted, but she didn't want to arrive separately from him.
"Marie," Jean-Paul smiled, kissing her on both cheeks before she was seated at his private table in the back corner of the patio.
Mary nodded in greeting and glanced around, noticing there was a bit of a space carved out around them, other tables not being nearly as close as throughout the rest of the restaurant.
"Thank you for coming. I know you are busy," he began cordially.
"Thank you for meeting with me. Paul appreciates you making time for us," Mary replied, watching as a server came over and poured a glass of white wine for him to sample. He nodded his approval and the server filled both of their glasses.
"Of course. Paul is a dear friend," he replied smoothly, sipping his wine. "He is rather coy on details about this new project, though. All he will say is he wants a lot of money."
She laughed appropriately and sipped her wine. It was quite good, smooth and dry. "He's asking you to trust in him, to have faith."
"I do trust him, but I must see whether I trust him as much as he wants me to," he replied. "Now, before we get into business, tell me more about yourself. We did not talk much at the party in Nice."
"I don't know if there's much to tell," she answered, watching to see if she could find any hint of his intentions behind those green eyes. At the party in Nice, she didn't spend any time with him, his name and face lost in the crowd of people that Paul had introduced her to. Sitting with him now, she noticed he was a bit younger than Paul, more fit and sophisticated with his carefully groomed hair and designer suit on his lanky frame. He looked like the billionaire that he was, she decided, a man who had power and influence, and knew it.
He chuckled. "I'll be the judge of that. Enlighten me into who the real Lady Mary Crawley is."
She nodded and gave him a small summary of her upbringing and career. It was normal to have a little blurb memorized for interviews and promotional appearances. She tailored it a bit to her audience, mentioning how she was enjoying living and working in Paris, keeping the details mostly professional, leaving her personal life out. She suspected that he knew about the scandals with Henry and her family that had tainted her in the past year, but there was no need to bring them up.
"It is funny. Here we are in California, discussing a film that may never even play here," he noted.
"I don't know if that's true," she replied easily. "There will be North American distribution at some point. We're bringing The Muse to Montreal in August, for example."
"Yes, I am happy to play in this market, but Paul does not care for it. He believes that Europe and Asia are more than enough, and he is right about that, to a point," he remarked.
She took another sip of wine as the servers brought out an antipasto platter and their glasses were refilled. Apparently Jean-Paul liked to order without menus for his meals, as Paul did.
"You must enjoy working with Paul to do three movies with him," he deduced.
"I haven't agreed to the third one yet," she corrected him. "I like to see a complete script before making any decisions."
He smirked. "Why has he sent you to me if you are not signed for this movie? I thought he wanted you."
"He does," she confirmed. "But he could draw from his usual group if need be. He could use Aline, or Audrey, instead."
"Yes, but they are not here. You are. Why?" he asked.
She smiled. "Convenience? We're both in Los Angeles at the same time."
He chuckled. "Convenience. Maybe he thinks that you make a better impression on me than they can."
She stabbed her fork into a piece of melon, keeping her expression casual. "Is that part of your analysis? Do you prefer to know the talent that you're paying for?"
He shrugged. "If I say yes to him, I'm paying for everything, but I do like to know what I am getting for my money."
"And are you more likely to say yes if it means you are paying for me?" she enquired.
He smiled. "That is the only option that I have been given. With no script, and no treatment, he is asking me to invest on the idea of a project with you in it."
"I think he's asking you to invest in his project," she clarified. "His reputation speaks for itself."
"Maybe I will insist that you are a part of it," he suggested. "Maybe I will make the money contingent on you being the lead."
She arched her eyebrow at him. "You would pull your funding if I declined to be in it? I haven't had any films released in France yet. Maybe I'll be a flop."
He grinned and shook his head. "I doubt that. Besides, better to get involved now before your films come out. If they succeed, Paul will raise his price. If you were not in the movie, I would have to reconsider, at least. If I am not getting what I paid for, that is a problem."
"Aren't you most concerned about profit above all else, though? A proper return on your investment?" she asked.
"That, among other things," he nodded. "So, are you in?"
She took a moment to taste another piece of melon wrapped in prosciutto. She took her time and swallowed before answering. "I can't say yet. I'll have to see. What I can tell you is that if you don't fund the movie, there will be no project for me to be in at all."
He laughed and nodded his head. "He was right to send you to me."
She dabbed at her mouth with her napkin as two plates of pasta primavera were served and their wine glasses refilled once more. She took up her fork and gathered a healthy amount of the dish, feeling quite peckish following the banter with Jean-Paul.
"Do you ever invest in Hollywood movies?" she asked, sampling the pasta.
"Not really," he waved his hand. "There is so much bureaucracy here, so many people to deal with. The agreements are so much more complicated – everyone gets a percentage of everything. I prefer back home. It is easier, and the profit is higher, if you know what you are doing. I will put in a little here and there with American studios if I like what I see. I give them enough so that they keep inviting me to these events and parties, but it is a small position, not one with any authority."
"In France, you have more power," she stated.
"Not over the movie, no. I do not tell the director what to do," he explained. "But I can get the answers that I want quicker, and so decisions are easier. They only depend on me."
"Ah," she nodded. "It doesn't matter to you whether you ever fund an Oscar-winning film?"
He smiled. "I don't care much for awards. Your fiancé, he is nominated, yes?"
She nodded. "For Best Supporting Actor."
"For an actor, is good. For me, there are far more important things to get out of the investments I make," he declared.
"Again, the profit, the money," she stated.
"Among other things," he agreed, meeting her eyes. "A little trophy is not what I want."
She nodded and went back to eating her pasta.
"How is it?" he asked.
She smiled. "Delicious."
Rodeo View Suite, Beverly Wilshire Hotel, Beverly Hills, California, USA, March 3, 2018
"Crikey, I don't know how I lasted through the evening, but I somehow did," Matthew sighed in relief. He looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and began brushing his teeth. "I'll be glad to get to the awards ceremony finally. The agency parties are just death."
"They're not nearly as onerous as you make them out to be," Mary called from the bedroom. "You had fun, admit it."
He rolled his eyes and grunted in objection.
Her laughter floated over to him. "You seemed to be enjoying all the attention. There was a queue of people waiting for some precious seconds with you."
"That's a lie, and you know it," he answered, wiping his mouth with a towel. He checked his reflection again before turning off the light and coming back to the bedroom. "There's nothing special about me."
"I disagree."
He groaned in surprise when she shoved him against the wall, her lips seizing his, her tongue delving into his mouth.
"Mary!" he exclaimed, his hands moving to her hips. "What the?"
"Shut up," she growled, moving to his neck and nipping at his skin. "I don't like how those women were looking at you tonight."
"What?" he spat in confusion. "What women?"
"All of them," she hissed against his chest, her hands throwing his pyjamas down his legs. "Rooney, Natalie, Daisy Ridley, Jennifer Lawrence, all those models and pornstars who comment on your photos and ask you to message them. I fucking hate them all."
He blinked in shock, letting out a ragged breath as her hand took hold of him and stroked him. He could barely even remember meeting any of those women tonight, let alone even talking to them to the point that Mary would be jealous. They both had quite a bit to drink tonight, but she was being quite aggressive now, even for her. "Darling, Rooney and Natalie are just good friends. Both of them are in long term relationships."
"So are you," she snarled, kissing him again. "You're mine and I don't appreciate those bitches eye fucking you."
He chuckled. "Is that even a word?"
"Yes," she slurred. "They all wanted you, and they can't have you."
He kissed her firmly, his hand moving around to squeeze her bottom through the thin silk of her robe.
"Darling, you have always been the only one for me," he promised.
"I know that, and I want them to know it, too," she declared, stroking him faster. "Hit me up, daddy," she said in a mocking high-pitched voice. "Those sluts stalking you on Instagram. I want to tear their fucking eyes out."
He laughed in disbelief at her angry words. "I don't even pay attention to any of that."
"You're lying," she sneered. "Some whore with huge boobs and who's been in dozens of adult movies says she thinks you're gorgeous and you don't pay any attention? I don't believe that."
"I honestly have no idea who you're talking about," he smiled in amusement, barely able to even comprehend that Mary even cared what some model or porn actress might think or say. "Unless I recognize the name, I don't read my comments. Why would I care if a model or adult film star cares about me, anyway?"
"Because you're a man. You love having women worship you," she replied, kissing his neck and shoulder.
"Well, I'm spoken for. I don't need anyone else," he said easily. "Let me show you."
She yelped as he suddenly picked her up off the floor. Her legs barely wrapped around his waist before he crossed the room and threw her on to the bed. She found his hungry stare just before he pulled her robe off of her. Her panties followed in short order, and she clawed at the duvet for purchase as he crawled over to her and spread her legs wide.
"You're mine," he stated, his eyes fiery as he kissed along her thigh. "No one else's."
"Matthew!" she moaned, arching her back as his mouth latched on to her core and his tongue pushed inside.
"Say it," he ordered, kissing all over her sensitive flesh while his fingers took over.
"I'm yours!" she called, shutting her eyes tight.
"No one else's," he repeated.
"Fuck! No one! Nobody else! Oh God!" she shouted, her hips moving against his mouth and hand, urging him deeper.
She chanted a litany of filth, begging and pleading for release. He laughed darkly and played with her, keeping her teetering on the edge while she panted and rasped.
"I want to hear you," he commanded, swiping his tongue over her.
"Oh fuck! I'll fucking scream your name. Just get me there! Please!" she demanded.
"As you wish, m'lady," he taunted her before closing his lips around her spot and curling his fingers inside of her.
"Matthew!" she shouted, grabbing fistfuls of the duvet in her hands and lifting up off the bed. Her legs tensed, his strong grip the only thing stopping her from squeezing his head between her thighs.
He feasted on her as she shook, the sounds of his talented mouth stoking her arousal. He moved up her trembling body and offered her his fingers. Looking up at him with dazed eyes, she took them in, tasting herself while he watched.
"God, Mary," he gasped. "I love you so much."
She licked his fingers as he withdrew, her body boneless, her pulse racing. Reaching down, she found him hard and thick. He bared his teeth and smiled at her menacingly, his eyes telling her his dark intentions.
"I'm yours," she nodded, her voice hoarse from shouting. "Fucking take me. Any way you want."
He grinned, leaning in and kissing her as he turned her over on to her stomach.
"Keep talking," he said, moving on top of her and pausing just before he thrust on target.
She did. Loudly.