Page 44 of Felix

As if he feels my eyes on his person, Christian spreads his legs wider. I curse as the fabric tents a little more obscenely.

“How do you hide that thing?” I say, thinking of Alex’s comment from weeks ago.

“My dick?” Christian asks, sounding amused. “I don’t usually walk around with a raging hard-on, Specs. This is all for you.”

My eyes flash up to his, a bolt of arousal sending heat through my core.

“Thirty seconds,” Jerome yells.

Christian clears his throat. “Do you want me to take the lead again?”

“I should be a little more coherent this time, but yeah, if you wouldn’t mind.”

He nods, swinging his legs lightly. His arms are braced behind him, and his hair is down today, falling in its usual tousled style.

“Ten,” Jerome calls, switching to hands as he counts us down. The room falls silent.

I lean a little closer to Christian, keeping my voice at a whisper. “For the record, I do want your dick, Christian. Any-and-everywhere you can put it.”

“You cheeky little—” Christian cuts off a second before we switch to a live feed and smiles for the camera. His hand slips behind me, curling beneath the curve of my ass as he starts to talk. My pulse skyrockets, but he sounds unaffected, voice light. “Well, well, if it isn’t our favorite at-home viewers. Hello, all you naughty dogs. I’m Vixen, and this is Felix. Are you excited to watch us get down and dirty today?”

Comments flood in, seemingly more than last time, although I’m not sure I can trust my observational skills from that day.

“Oh, I like that idea, AnonymousHottie,” Christian says, looking my way. “He said there wasn’t enough kissing last time. What do you think, Fe? Wanna make out with me?”

My answer is giving Christian’s arm a tug. He comes easily, falling over me as my back hits the mattress. I don’t know if it’s because this is work or I know what’s expected of us, but it’s so much easier to do exactly what I want while we’re on this set. And what I want is Christian’s body on mine. His lips on mine.

I wrap my ankles behind his ass and tug him to me as my hands sink into his hair. The ever-present awareness of the cameras keeps me from blocking his face, but I don’t hesitate to pull him closer, even as Christian is already on the move. Our mouths lock, our groins connect, and I moan, already keyed up and horny and having no qualms about showing it.

Christian rocks his hips against mine, the unmistakable hardness of his cock dragging against my own. I can feel his bare ass beneath my heels as I try to drag him closer, and I wonder at what the viewers are seeing right now. Christian’s ass under his skirt? The skimpy underwear that’s barely concealing him?

The thought threatens to unravel me because any reminder of the audience has my mind wanting to sink into that wonderful, hazy surrender. But Christian’s lips keep me rooted. His kiss is more frantic this time, and I have no doubt mine is the same. This isn’t the lazy post-coital bliss we shared after our first scene together. This is raw and hungry, anticipatory, and it’s not just me, right? Christian wants this, too. Maybe for his own reasons, but you can’t fake genuine interest like what I feel pouring from his lips.

Christian doesn’t kiss like the rest of my coworkers.

The sound I make as Christian drags his mouth down to my neck is needy as fuck, but I don’t care. “Ch—” Shit, I almost said his name again. “Christ. Vixen, would you get this shirt off?”

My hands tug at Christian’s top, and he laughs against my neck, nipping gently before leaning back to pull it free. Long, lean muscle is revealed, as well as the sparkling jewelry at his navel. He makes quick work of my shirt next, and then his hands are on my chest, thumbs circling my nipples as I hiss and arch up against the touch. He whips his hair to the side before coming back in, mouth pressing kisses to my neck and jaw and finally my lips as his thumbs circle and circle and circle.

My moan is loud. But painfully real.

Christian smacks away from my mouth, a wicked gleam in his eye as his gaze flashes to the tablet beside us. “Mm. I agree. He does like that. I think I could probably make him come from this alone.”

He punctuates his point by leaning down and, ever so lightly, flicking his tongue across my nipple.

I bite my lip. Hard.

“Should I see how close I can get him?” Christian asks the viewers.

The consensus must be yes because he gives me a grin before pulling his hair up into a poofy little bun and securing it with the band around his wrist. I don’t know why that simple act is as goddamn sexy as it is, but as Christian slinks down my body, his mouth poised above my chest and a few tendrils of his hair falling around his face, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone as utterly enchanting as him.

My exhalation must alert him because his eyes meet mine a moment before his lips wrap around my nipple. There’s mischief there, that’s for damn sure. But there’s also something soft and almost excited, so I hold my tongue about Christian torturing me—again—and let him have his fun.

The first suck of his mouth has my legs falling flat against the mattress. The next, tongue included as it presses up against the underside of the bud, has my hands flying above my head. I grab a pillow, toss it away, search for something more stable. One hand finds the headboard, and the other holds on to the goddamn sheets as Christian treats my nipple like the end of my cock and sucks for all he’s worth.

His name on my lips is more a plea than anything. The way he holds tight and flicks his tongue back and forth is a nuh-uh, we’re not done yet.

“You’re… evil…” I pant.

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