Page 29 of Felix

Oh God.

Christian laughs. “I know, he’s damn cute, isn’t he? Come on, Fe. Let’s lose the shirt.”

Thank fuck Christian helps me because I’m not entirely sure I have full motor function right now. I glance toward the camera, eyes skipping to where Jerome is standing in the wings. He’s watching the feed from the tablet in his hands, and he looks up, giving me a nod. No one is holding up cue cards to redirect us, so I go with the flow, letting Christian tug off my shirt. He pushes me playfully onto my back and crawls over me, his eyes as dark as night.

“Here’s what I’m thinking,” he says, leaning down to kiss my collarbone. The next one lands on my chest, so very close to my nipple. “I’m going to let our viewers decide what I fuck you with.”

My head swims.

Christian kisses above my belly button before going on, his voice projecting enough for the boom to pick him up easily. “But I get to decide for how long. Lift your hips, Fe.”

I lift, and Christian tugs down my jeans. My cock is tenting my briefs, and I’m suddenly grateful Jerome told us to keep this video under an hour because I’m already desperate to come. Desperate for, fuck, anything.

“Ch—Vixen. Please.”

Christian flashes me a smile as he slinks up my legs, looking like a cat on the prowl. He slips his fingers beneath the band of my briefs, lips suspended above my cock. After an endless moment that almost has me begging—again—he lifts the material, but only enough for the end of my dick to slip free. He tilts his head just so, his smirk telling me he remembered what I told him about angles, and then he kisses the top of my dick.

I curse under my breath, hips hitching.

“BellyDancerBoi wants to see your cock, Fe,” Christian says, knowing what it does to me to hear that. God, he knows exactly how much that turns me on. “Think I should let him?”

I nod furiously, and Christian chuckles, finally, blessedly, slipping my briefs down my hips. As soon as they’re cleared, I spread my legs wide, past the point of caring how damn wanton I look.

“Should I let them pick a toy now?” he asks.

“Yes,” I gasp. Fuck. “Please.”

“Mm. You beg so prettily,” he practically purrs, palms slipping up my thighs. “They like that. So do I.”

Christian’s touch feathers away an inch from my cock, and I huff a breath.

“Turn over, Fe.”

I’ve never flipped so fast in my life.

Christian chuckles again, talking to the viewers. I miss most of it, my pulse heavy in my ears as Christian’s fingers drift slowly up and down over the backs of my thighs, occasionally brushing my ass cheeks. He shifts me slightly, giving my hips a small push, and I go where he tells me to, knowing he’s positioning me for the camera. The next second, something cool and wet slips over my asshole.

I moan, pushing back, and a small toy slips inside my ass.

“Fuck,” Christian says. “You’re ready, aren’t you, Fe?”

“Yes,” I pant out.

There’s pressure again, and another object slides in. Anal beads, I realize. He’s fucking me with an anal bead wand.

“He does have a gorgeous ass,” Christian says, pulling the second bead out before pushing it in again. It stretches my rim before settling inside, and he teases me with it for a minute. Eventually, a third bead joins, bigger than the first two. “They want to see you take all six, Fe. What do you think? Can you handle it?”

I nod against the sheets, not knowing how large the final bead is, but trusting Christian. He knows what my limits are, so he wouldn’t have chosen a toy bigger than I can handle.

“Want it,” I manage. “Fuck me, please.”

He teases me again, pressing, pressing, and then another bead slips in, stretching me wider. The tip of the toy is so close to my prostate now. I can feel it, brushing against me, as Christian fucks the fourth bead in and out.

“Another,” I groan.

“Look at you, Fe,” Christian says, slowly edging the fifth bead in. He pauses with it at the widest point, his hand skimming my ass. “They’re all watching you, you know. Every single one of them, waiting for your ass to swallow the toy.”

My pulse thunders, and I push back against his hand, needing it. “Please, Vixen.”

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