Page 85 of Butterfly

I’m sitting on a chair at the edge of the set, surrounded by long wires of different colours, mysterious black boxes, and laptops that seem to occupy every corner. In his costume, which adds a layer of menace to his massive build, Alex dominates the scene; it’s a quiet scene where he’s having dinner with a bunch of people. The scene should be straightforward, but the director is shooting it over and over again, changing something every time and asking the actors for more emotions, more everything. Dart is asleep next to me. The fur now fully covers the wound in his neck.

I relax when the director yells, “Cut!”

Alex walks over to me, and even though I know him, a little thrill of fear rushes up my spine. With that costume and his electric yellow eyes, he looks like he might crush my skull with a finger.

“Bored?” he asks, kissing me.

“A little.”

Dart stands up, as if he weren’t sleeping a moment before. But when Emily hurries past us, Dart’s ears flop down and a little whimper escapes him. I can relate. Even Emily’s costume is rather frightening.

“We’re going to shoot a more exciting scene now.” He takes my hand and heads towards his trailer, Dart slogging behind us. “A party with dancers and singers. It should be more fun to watch.”

We make our way through pieces of equipment I wouldn’t be able to give a name to and people rushing along corridors.

The moment we enter his trailer, and the door is shut behind us, he pushes me against the wall and kisses me hard. Weeks have passed since Christmas, but he’s always hungry, always trying to touch me and kiss me, as if he can’t get enough of me. Whatever make-up covers his face, it resists the force of his kiss. His tongue darts deep into my mouth, without leaving any space for hesitation. The hard length of his erection presses against my belly while his hand grabs my breast. I’m panting when he breaks the kiss.

“I don’t have much time, unfortunately.” His hand runs along my waist and bottom. “But after the next scene, I’m done for the day.”

His trailer is as big as my flat, with a living room area, a double bed, and a shower wide enough for two. But he has a small cottage right outside the studios as well. Small as in huge. Dart sneaks between us, demanding attention.

“That bugger is here, by the way.” His lips press in a hard line as he shuffles Dart’s fur.

“What bugger?”

“Dylan. He’s one of the dancers. Saw him earlier getting ready for the next scene.” His tone steels with annoyance. “That’s why he sounded so confident when he said he’d see you soon. He got a role in the series.”

“Who cares?” I kiss him, feeling the tension in his neck.

A knock comes from the door. “Mr Knightley? Fifteen minutes. Make-up department.”

“Hell,” he mutters. “Got it!” he shouts to the door. Then his mouth is over mine again, taking my breath away with the passion of the kiss.

“Alex—” I whisper when he breaks the kiss.

“I mean to use these bloody fifteen minutes well.” He slips his hand under my skirt and finds my heat with determined strokes.

“We shouldn’t—” Whatever else I’m about to say is swallowed by the onslaught of pleasure his wicked fingers give me.

I unbutton his trousers, which takes me a few moments, but he groans when I wrap my hand around him. God, energy is flooding me in pulsating waves as his thumb draws circles around my nub and his fingers slip in and out of me. I work him up and down as he pants between a kiss and a bite on my lips. He doesn’t stop until I shiver with an orgasm and sag against him, still stroking him. He follows me a moment later, his release soaking my hand. We clean each other up, stealing kisses and touches.

“Now we can go.” He smirks and kisses my heated cheek.

Light floods the set when we return, likely making my post-orgasmic flush rather evident. The dimly lit dining room has been swapped for a bright, wide hall, all marble and Grecian columns. Glass windows show the fluorescent green screen at the end of the set, but the smooth chequered floor and the plush chairs scattered around give the illusion of being in a posh mansion. While the make-up artist retouches Alex’s make-up, I stroll around, careful not to step over any cables.

Sitting on a chair with the make-up artist retouching her lips, Emily waves a hand at me. I wave back, although I’m not sure—

“Sienna, exactly who I was looking for.” Dylan walks over to me, sidestepping tripods and wires, a huge smile on his handsome face. “So glad to see you.”

“Dylan, what a surprise.” I sense rather than see Alex’s glare training on us.

Dylan traps me in a hug. “I mentioned you to the artist coordinator. There’s room for an extra singer. Why don’t you join us?”

“I…” For some reason, I turn towards Emily. She’s watching me, seemingly fascinated by my conversation with Dylan.

“I’m with the dancers, obviously. You’ll have to stand behind us and sing with the rest of the group.” He beams towards the set. “The director thinks there’re too few singers in the background.”

I crane my neck to take a look at the actors on the set. The female extras in the scene are wearing only a bikini top and a loose, transparent skirt. Their backs are fully naked. I chew my bottom lip. “I’m not sure I’m in the mood for a song.”

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