Page 14 of Hollywood Crush (West Wales Romance #2)

“Look around,” he said after a few minutes.

I had been looking at my own feet as the mountain got slightly steeper and rockier.

I looked up, shocked to see that the sunlight was now almost blinding when I looked around.

It seemed we had broken through the layer of fog.

The sun shone on the top of the clouds, which looked like a big, white unbroken blanket.

The sky was a dazzling blue and the grass shone with early morning dew.

“Told you it was worth it,” said Tudor. He pointed upward, to the summit of the mountain. “I have snacks for when we get to the top.”

It took us another couple of minutes to reach the top of the mountain which was mostly flat if a little craggy for a few metres, and the sunlight had us both sweating. The blanket of cloud below stretched for miles, but I could see gaps where green grass or the glint of water shone through.

“Give it an hour and it’ll all have burned away in the sun,” said Tudor.

He shucked off his bag and jacket. Under the jacket he was wearing a vest which showed off He had been sweating now in the warmth of the sun and his arms glistened.

Tudor took out a picnic blanket from the bag and laid it on the flattest patch of rock before sitting down.

“C’mon, I’ve cooked for us,” he said. He took out a big flask, smaller hip flask and more Tupperware than I had thought it would be possible to fit in the little bag.

I sat down next to him and unzipped my tracksuit hoodie. The sun felt glorious on my skin.

“Pork pie? Cookie? Sausage roll? Vegan sausage roll? Spring rolls?” Tudor gestured to each Tupperware and pushed them toward me.

“Bloody hell, you’re more of a feeder than my mother,” I said even as I took one of everything. It would be rude not to sample, after all.

“I’ll fatten you up eventually,” said Tudor. “Are you close with your mum, then?”

“Not as close as I’d like to be nowadays.”

“And why’s that?” Tudor’s question seemed to come from a place of honesty rather than greed like journalists often did.

“Just…busy, y’know? Flying all over the world and working, then promoting films or TV shows in between, and auditioning when I’m not doing any of that. It can be difficult to get back home.”

“And where is home, for you?” Tudor asked.

I thought of Mum’s face, cups of tea on a worn wooden surface. Roast dinner on a Sunday. “Yorkshire,” I replied. “Though it’s been a long while since I’ve been back.”

“Yorkshire? You sound so posh!” Tudor pushed at my shoulder gently.

I took another sausage roll from the box and swallowed it down before replying.

“RADA used to try and get everyone RP back in the day. You had to be posh to get by in show business. Now, regional accents are all the rage and they’re training posh actors to sound more working class — I’m a dinosaur already. ”

“You look pretty good for a fossil, must be all those moisturisers you promote on your Instagram story,” said Tudor with a smile.

I punched him in the shoulder, which made him grin even more.

In the sunlight, he was absolutely breathtaking.

His blonde hair seemed to shine in the sunlight and his eyes reflected the colour of the sky all around us.

I was enamoured with this Welshman and had no idea what to do about it.

I was going to leave one day soon and he’d settle down into a humdrum life with a lovely down to earth man who appreciated the creature comforts he could provide.

Who could give him the kind of stability I couldn’t.

“Penny for your thoughts,” said Tudor. I shook myself out of my daze.

“Nothing,” I said, tearing my eyes away from his. “Just admiring the day…”

I tailed off as I looked around us for the first time in a long time. The sun had burned away the fog below us much as Tudor had predicted, and I’d spent so long focusing on him that I hadn’t looked around me. I pushed myself up to stand and look around.

I could see for miles and miles, over hills greener and more verdant than anything I’d ever seen before. They rolled on for miles, dotted by hundreds of sheep and an occasional grey rocky crag.

Tudor had stood up next to me and tapped my shoulder, turning me the other way. The mountain we were on stood inland from the sea, but I could still see cliffs, rocky and sandy beaches.

“The advantage to mid-Wales, is you can see everything,” Tudor said.

He pointed to our left, where far in the distance I could see the land reaching out further into the sea.

“There’s the Llyn Peninsula. If you took a map of Wales and looked, it’s like an arm reaching out into the sea.

And there-” he pointed out to a landmass in the distance, “is Ireland. It’s clearer from Anglesey - Ynys Mon, we call it - but it’s lovely from here too. ”

“It’s so…” I started, but I had no idea how to finish.

Green? Vibrant? Beautiful? All of the above.

All my expectations for this country has been tested — cracked, maybe — during weeks of filming.

And now that perception had been shattered.

I couldn’t see Wales as some parochial, grey and miserable country when this existed.

Even if it still rained as much as it shone, the days it shone made up for it.

“They say that Wales was a land of giants,” said Tudor, his hand drifting up and down my back.

“ The Celtic nations —that is Wales, Scotland, and Ireland — have so many shared myths. So much shared history. I really think people would make the trek to Hiraeth if they knew. What legends lie beneath their feet.”

“I would,” I said. “But then again, it’s not just the legends that would keep me coming back.”

Tudor caught my eye and looked down as if embarrassed. As smoothly as possible, and in a way that a director had one told me would have ‘ women in the audience creaming their pants’ , I hooked one finger under his chin and used it to pull him closer in for a kiss.

It seemed to work as he put one hand against the back of my head and kissed me deeply.

Him being taller than me wasn’t something that usually worked for me but in this moment it just did.

I might have initiated the kiss, but in holding me closer he was telling me exactly who remained in charge here.

“Let’s go,” Tudor had ended the kiss too soon, leaving me hard and throbbing in my tracksuit bottoms at the top of the mountain. “I want you.”

◆◆◆

We rushed through reception like two excitable teenagers.

Instead of going to Tudor’s bedroom, like we had before, I grabbed his hand and ran him upstairs.

It was surprisingly quiet and I wondered if the rest of the crew were out on a jolly.

Thank God for Marjorie standing down an entire production.

I opened the door and the second it closed behind me Tudor’s hands were all over me — unzipping my tracksuit and roughly pulling down my trousers. I almost tripped over them as he yanked them down and they came off with my socks. He dropped with them and took my aching cock in his mouth.

“Fuck, yes,” I said. I threaded my fingers into his hair but he used one hand to push mine back up against the door. Despite being on his knees, it was like he wanted total control. And I was happy to give it to him.

Tudor was rough giving head, and didn’t stop even when he gagged or I felt teeth touch my shaft. I didn’t realise how much I could like this kind of sex, but it was raw and carnal and I just wanted him to keep going. It wasn’t long before I felt myself getting close. “No, gonna—”

And Tudor stopped as quickly as he had started. He got to his feet, took his face in my hands and kissed me. I could faintly taste myself on his lips.

“Bed,” he muttered between kisses, then practically dragged me over.

He pulled his t-shirt over his head and shucked off his trousers and pulled me onto the bed on top of him, both os us now naked.

He kissed me long and deep again before pulling back slightly.

“Is this OK?” he asked. “I…like to be in control. If you don’t want that, or want it any other way, that’s fine. ”

“I want you however you’ll have me,” I replied breathlessly. I had never met anyone so confident with me in bed. Tudor ground our cocks together where we lay and I could feel my orgasm building. “Though seriously, I’m going to come if you keep…stimulating me.”

Tudor reached down between us to hold both our cocks in his hand. “Like that?” he asked, giving a rough tug.

“Yes, fuck, like that.” My voice sounded strained and I could feel my cheeks heating. Tudor gave another tug and I could feel him grinning as he kissed me. Our teeth clashed with the intensity of his kisses and I groaned as he continued to pull at our cocks.

“Want you to come,” he muttered between kisses and I moaned my approval. “But not yet. I want to fuck you first.”

“Yes,” I found myself saying. I reached behind me to the bedside table. I had kept condoms and lube here just in case I happened to meet a hot Welsh hookup. I might’ve imagined myself topping in that scenario, but with Tudor I’d do whatever he asked.

Tudor took the supplies from my hand, put them aside and flipped us so he was on top of me now.

He pushed my legs backwards, above my head, and rutted his cock against my hole.

Without lube, there was no chance of him getting in, but precum helped him to glide over it as if he was going to enter.

He moved his arm and a second later I felt one lubed up finger make a allow and steady entrance into me.

It had been a while and I did my best to relax around it.

“Good boy, there we are. Relax for me.” Tudor praised me, and it somehow helped me to relax. I felt a second finger enter and stretch me out as the sting faded. I wanted his cock in me, but I knew better than to ask. Tudor owned tonight, ad it would happen at his pace.

I felt him remove his fingers, and I yearned for them again.

I felt like he had been getting so close to the spot that would make everything happen.

But his wry grin told me he knew that. I watched as he took the condom from the wrapper, rolled it over his cock — the size intimidating after a while without any action — and slicked himself up with a generous amount of lube.

“Remember, you can say no at any time,” he said gently.

“Not a chance.” My consent was all Tudor needed and he positioned the head of his cock at my entrance. He kept one arm braced against the back of my knees to keep my legs up and my arse in position, and wrapped his other hand, the one still slick with lube, around my cock.

He pushed in oh so slowly and gently but with such intensity in his eyes. I winced slightly at the pain, but he had prepared me well and he slid in without much resistance. I groaned as I felt his cock brush up against my prostate and nerve endings that had lain dormant once again sprung to life.

“Fuck,” I said. “Fuck me, please.”

Tudor pulled out almost all the way, and then slid back in.

I whimpered as I felt his cock slide over that point of perfect pleasure once again.

He pulled out just as far and then slammed in harder, and I took him all the way to the base.

His arm pressed against my legs, pushing them back further and letting me take him that little bit deeper.

Tudor was just as rough as he had been whilst blowing me.

Sex with him was animalistic and carnal, like he was claiming me.

And I wanted to be his. As he plowed hard into me, his one slick hand started to stroke my cock once more.

I couldn’t help but cry out so loud I was sure the whole hotel could hear.

“That’s it, let me know how much you want it,” he said.

“More, Tudor. Harder. Please.” I could hardly get the words out but I needed him to know just how much I wanted him. He pushed into me even faster, reaching rhythm that made me scream out incoherently. I could feel my own orgasm building as Tudor rocked back and forth into me.

“Fuck, I’m going to-” I started to say, but too late. I spilled over Tudor’s hand and my own stomach. Tudor kept stroking my spent cock as he rocked back and forth, once, twice, three times more before coming with a loud moan and collapsing on top of me .

“That was…” I started, but felt the need to catch my breath.

“It was OK, right?” Tudor asked. He pulled back from me slightly so I could see his face. We were both sweating and he had created a sticky mess between us. “I mean, you were OK? It was good for you? I didn’t hurt you?”

“It was amazing,” I said. It was odd to see the shift in him, from complete assurance in sex to sudden insecurity.

“Good, good. That’s…let’s get you cleaned up.” I felt as Tudor pulled out and I let him dispose of the condom. There was a sticky mess of my cum on both of our stomachs. Tudor returned with a towel and gave me a quick and gentle wipe down.

“I hope you’re replacing that towel,” I joked.

“I might know the housekeeper,” he replied with a wry smile. He pulled me off the bed and to my feet. “Let me shower with you?”

“Of course,” I said. He took my hand and led me to the shower.

As we stood together under the warm spray, I could feel all my previous defences breaking down.

It was me who had insisted on keeping this casual and despite that I could feel my whole body and psyche shifting into a state of need for the man who had wrapped me up in his little world even more than he had me wrapped in his arms.