The Director's Cut by Js Taylor (if you give a mouse a cookie read aloud txt) 📕

“Oh James!” I hear the words without realising I’m saying them. It’s as though my entire body has been gripped in an iron-vice of pleasure. I’m completely powerless to do anything but let it take me. And then the external vibrations stop, and I sink back to the steady stimulation of my G-spot.

But this time, the internal vibrations have pulled me up into another level. They feel stronger, more powerful. As though I were just on the verge of a different kind of orgasm.

“I want to be in complete control of you, Isabella,” whispers James. “Give me your trust, and I will give you pleasure you never dreamed possible.”

“Yes,” I whisper, feeling myself throbbing with desire for him.

“When I next see you,” says James, his voice dangerous, “I am going to show you exactly what that means. You will be utterly obedient to my will. Do you understand?”

The feelings inside of me, combined with his words, are pushing me close to the edge. I would say anything at this moment. Anything this man wants me to say.

“Yes,” I gasp.

“Now,” says James, “I am going to allow you to orgasm. In exactly the way that I choose.”

I moan as I feel the vibrator swirl into action again, sending golden waves of pleasure across my clitoris. Inside me, I feel a warm pull as my body begins to contract.

Then the sensation on my clitoris stops.

But instead of fading down, the internal contractions have now built their own momentum.

I feel my entire body pulsing, throbbing with light, as the powerful waves of orgasm sweep through me.

I throw my head back and moan aloud, writhing on the bed as the force of the feelings take me. I feel as though I am being lifted up, off the bed, and am floating, weightless in an ecstasy of sensation. And then the waves slow and begin to fade, and my body settles, as though I’ve slid into warm water.

“Ahhh.” The first semi-coherent sound comes.

“I take it I succeeded in bringing you to orgasm,” says James. His voice is tight again.

“Yes,” I breathe. “That was... It was amazing.”

“Good.” I can hear the smile in his voice. His tone softens.

“I wish I was there to hold you in my arms.”

“I wish you were too,” I murmur, still drugged with pleasure.

James sighs.

“Get some sleep,” he orders, his voice becoming firmer. “You are due to take an early flight tomorrow. And I need you refreshed for what I have planned for you.”

Somehow, I don’t think he’s talking about acting.

“And remember, Isabella,” he says in husky tones, “if this is what I can do to you without being in the room, think of what I can do in person.”

There’s a click as he rings off. And I’m left to float inside sleep, dreaming of what James Berkeley might be able to do to me in the flesh.

Chapter 4

As the cast and crew assemble the next morning, I can barely look at James without blushing.

His expression is infuriatingly self-satisfied as he glances over my face. I look away quickly, images of last night racing through my brain.

James is wearing a white T-shirt and black jeans which would look ordinary on most men. But stretched across his broad chest, and tight around his muscular thighs, it makes me want to dive into his arms and grab his behind.

“I trust you slept well, Isabella,” he says, his lips twitching.

The almost imperceptible crookedness to his otherwise perfect features looks even more sexy this morning. If that’s possible. I feel my fingers yearning to ruffle his tousled brown hair.

“Um. Yes. Thank you,” I manage, trying to push thoughts of kissing his mouth to the back of my mind.

I feel my face burning and pray that none of the crew are observing the dialogue. How is it that he seems to get better looking every day?

Then I hear a familiar voice.

“Isabella! Gorgeous girl. You look fabulous.”

Callum Reed, as ever, larger than life and bursting with compliments.

I laugh. “Hi Callum. Hi Will.”

I wave to Callum and Will, who for a short time acted as my bodyguard.

Although we’ve only known each other a short time, I feel indebted to both of them.

When I was in danger from the Lipstick Stalker, they were true friends. And I will never forget Will’s kindness in insisting on working as my personal protection.

This morning, Callum is wearing tweed trousers and a matching waistcoat with a thick linen shirt. On his stocky frame, they look adorably casual. His brown hair is greying around the temples, but his choice to wear it a little longer than short makes him look youthful.

Will has ditched his security navy for Adidas sweats. He is one of the few men on the planet who makes gym wear look as the manufacturer intended. With his perfect physique, razor-sharp cornrows, and designer shades, he looks like a cross between an athlete and a rock star.

I give them both a hug.

“Did you have enough time to get ready?” I ask, knowing they had less than twelve hours to ready themselves for the Barcelona trip.

“Ample,” Callum assures me. Will grins and rolls his eyes at me. So I can only assume that their packing was a little hectic.

“It’s not us you need to worry about,” adds Will. “Once Mr Reed here has his favourite teddy bear packed, he is good to go.”

I laugh, and Callum shrugs and raises his eyebrows.

“But Natalie Ennis,” continues Will, rolling his eyes again. “You better pray you’ve been good in this life, Issy. Cause I reckon those who misbehave are reincarnated as Natalie Ennis’s packing staff.”

I stifle a giggle. I heard vague shouts this morning from the direction of Natalie’s chalet, which I presumed was her balling out her staff.

“She’s got a lot of stuff,” I suggest.

“Jennifer Lopez has a lot of stuff,” says Callum gravely. “Natalie Ennis could open seven department stores and never need to restock.”

I hide my smile. I’ve resolved to try and think the best of