I creep into the guest bedroom, my eyes adjusting to the gloom.

The sheets are still crumpled from earlier, and I'm guessing Marc told Rodney this is a no-go area for a few days. Which I'm glad about. I don't want Rodney knowing about Marc's surprise.

Letting out a long breath, I snap on the light and stare at the thing in the corner.

It's kind of like a hammock on a metal frame, with four long poles and chains hanging. And there are leather straps everywhere.

I creep towards it, fascinated.

I suppose it's some kind of s.e.x swing. I've heard about them. Sort of. At least, I've heard Jen talking about them. I have no idea how they work but I guess I'm supposed to be strapped in somehow.

I have to admit I'm feeling a little warm at the thought. Before I met Marc, I always thought of myself as fairly normal. But he takes me to places I never would dare go. And I love him for it.

I finger one of the leather straps, then experimentally undo it and put my wrist in place. I do the strap up and sit in the leather swing part.

Experimentally, I swing back and forth and my legs fling themselves in the air as I come downwards.

'Arg!' I give a little shriek, not expecting that at all.

'Sophia?' Marc's deep voice rumbles along the corridor.

'It's okay,' I say. 'I'm fine.'

I hear Marc's footsteps.

'Really I'm fine,' I say, hopping out of the seat and trying to undo the strap. 'I'll be back in just a second.'

But before I can get myself free, Marc's tall, handsome naked body looms in the doorway.

'Didn't we have that Pandora's box conversation already?' says Marc, a devilish smile on his lips.

I pause, looking guiltily at the strap I'm trying to undo.

'I just wanted to take a look,' I say, feeling like a child with their hand caught in the biscuit jar.

'Did you indeed?' Marc raises an eyebrow and stalks towards me. 'It seems to me you've done a little more than look. And I did say something before, if you remember. In the car?'

'You told me I was tired?'

'I told you that I wouldn't be able to stop myself.'

'I don't want you to stop yourself. If you remember, I told you I wasn't tired-'

Marc silences me by pressing his mouth hard against mine. His hand finds my arm, then moves up to my wrist. He pulls at the strap, testing it.

'Not bad,' he says. 'But I think it should be tighter.' He pulls the strap against my wrist. Then he takes my free wrist and fastens it to another leather strap.

With a whooshing sound, he tightens that too and I feel my arm pulled backwards.

'Oh!'

Marc slides off my panties and lifts me into the leather seat. Then he takes my ankles and straps them in place.

He steps back, his chest rising and falling.

I look up at him. 'Is this how you pictured me after we were married? Tied up?'

'It's exactly how I pictured you.' Marc stalks back and forth, checking the straps. He raises an eyebrow and gives me a stomach-melting smile. 'Bound up and waiting for your husband. But if you don't like it, just say the word and I'll let you down.'

I have to admit I like the leather on my wrists and ankles. It's unbearably good being bound up like this, all helpless and vulnerable as Marc prowls around.

My breathing quickens as I notice his huge erection.

'So what are you going to do with me?' I squeak.

'I haven't decided yet.'

Marc places his palms on my thighs, his eyes locked on mine, sharp and serious.

His hands move to my ribs, and my body sways in the swing. I hear the squeak of the chains and let out a little moan.

Marc presses his lips to my stomach, working his way down, down until he's right between my legs.

I want to grab his hair, his back ... but I'm bound tight.

His tongue goes right inside me, then moves out and flicks up and down.

My fingernails dig into my palms.

'Oooooh,' I moan.

The swing begins to jerk back and forth, and Marc holds my hips to keep me still.

He forces his mouth against me, circling and flicking with his tongue until I'm moaning with pleasure.

Then he moves back.

'Wait there,' he says, his breathing heavy. 'There's something I need to get.'

'Marc,' I whisper. 'Don't stop. Please!'

I wriggle and pull at the leather straps, wishing I could pull my hand free and touch myself. But I'm strapped in tight.

I watch Marc stalk out of the bedroom, beautifully naked. His body is so taut and toned. I love the way his muscles move when he walks.

A moment later he returns, carrying something long and black.

'What's that in your hand?' I ask, straining to see.

'You wanted to see how the swing works. I think this is the best way to show you.'

Marc stands between my legs and rests a black d.i.l.d.o on my thigh. I fall silent as he slides it between my legs.

'Oooh.' I let out a low moan.

Marc gives the swing a little rock and the d.i.l.d.o begins to move, in out, in out.

'Oh. Oooh,' I moan.

Marc watches me, resting a hand between my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. His breathing is fast and low, his eyes dark and stormy, his lips tilted into the tiniest of smiles.

The swing moves back and forth, back and forth.

I moan, my head falling back and my eyes closing.

Suddenly, Marc grasps the swing chain and holds me still. He slides the d.i.l.d.o out and down between my b.u.t.tocks, teasing me.

Before I have a moment to protest, Marc slides the d.i.l.d.o into my backside.

My eyes spring open and I cry out. 'Oh!'

The swing moves and the d.i.l.d.o moves around.

'Oh. Oh G.o.d. Marc. Marc please ...'

'Too much?'

I nod, my eyes watering a little.

Marc slides the d.i.l.d.o free and drops it to the floor. He cranks a handle on the side of the swing and I feel myself tilted up until I'm facing him.

Our chests press together, and Marc slides himself inside me.

'Oh G.o.d!'

Marc pushes his pelvis forwards and the swing begins to move.

'Oh. Oh!'

I'm lost in so many sensations the swing moving my weightless body, my wrists and elbows bound, and of course Marc, huge inside me, his lips on my neck.

The swing moves, and I fall into a world of pleasure, crying out and moaning until a crashing o.r.g.a.s.m falls over me, knocking me from side to side.

I hear Marc come too, and his body presses against mine.

As the o.r.g.a.s.m subsides, I open my eyes and see Marc watching me, twisting my hair around his fingers.

'Tired yet?' he asks.

I smile sleepily. 'A little.'

'Let me carry you to bed, Mrs Blackwell.' Marc gives me his quirky smile. 'Of course, I'll need to untie you first.'

39.

The next day on set I can't help thinking about Marc and the swing.

Leo and I are inside the marquee, practising our lines for the next scene. But I keep reading the wrong parts.

'Sorry Leo.' I shake my head at the script. 'I'll get it. I promise.'

'It's just one long honeymoon for you and Mr Blackwell, isn't it?' Leo asks, giving me his mischievous little brother grin.

'What do you mean?'

'You have that glow about you. That "stayed up all night having s.e.x" glow.'

I blush. 'I do not!'

'Oh yes you do. I should know. I have that same look myself most days. Thanks to your beautiful best friend. Living with her is just ... it is the best thing ever. She is so cool. And you should see her naked-'

'I have seen her naked. But this conversation is still too much information Leo.'

'Hey, what's the big deal? It's just s.e.x. We all do it.'

'Most people think s.e.x should be private.'

'Well I'm not most people. And we're friends. So tell me. What's Mr Blackwell like in the bedroom? Mean and moody? Loving and gentle? I'm guessing he has great stamina. I mean, the guy is lethally fit. I bet he can-'

'Leo!'

'Okay, okay. Listen. We've run through this script enough times. You got it yesterday. You'll get it when we film. You won't be thinking about lover boy when we're standing on top of the tower. So what do you say we go watch the others do their scenes?'

'Love to.'

We spend the next few hours watching Ruby, Baz and Sigourney in action.

Since Ruby is playing a fairy, she spends most of her scenes suspended in mid-air by strings.

Baz's scenes are mainly physical and he's awesome to watch. Listening to him joke around between takes, I forget sometimes that he's a great actor. But he is. And he has serious muscle too.