“Take what you want from me, princess.”
I impaled myself on his cock and he thrust up, hitting that spot deep inside me that had me cursing under my breath. His hands found my breasts, massaging and kneading before pinching the tips between his thumb and finger. My eyes drifted shut as I rode him, my fingers strumming my clit as heat licked up my core like flames waiting to consume me.
“Eyes on me. I want to watch you shatter for me.”
“Oh my God,” I gasped, opening my eyes as he thrust into me harder, hitting that spot again and again as I swiveled my hips.
His emerald green eyes held mine, and I felt his cock grow impossibly harder.
“Don’t come yet,” I pleaded with him. “I want you on my tongue.”
My fingernails bit into his thighs as my climax engulfed my body in an inferno of pure bliss. He stilled as I clenched around him.
“Ffffuck, I’m gonna come,” he stuttered.
“Let me taste you, baby.” I crawled off of him, gripping his shaft in my hand. I worked him with my hand while my lips engulfed him. Within a few seconds, I was swallowing him as he pulsed down my throat and his fingers threaded through my hair.
I sprawled over him, boneless and sated, laying my head on his chest as contentment swirled through me. Life had never been this good, and I wanted to live in this moment, right here, forever.
Things Aren't Always What They Seem
Eve
Everyonehadfilteredoutof rehearsal already. I’d stayed in the studio longer than I’d intended, going over my solos in the smaller practice room. With most of the cast and crew gone, the almost empty building was devoid of the usual hustle and bustle. The quiet was unnerving.
I shouldn’t have stayed so late by myself. There was something sinister lingering here, something that kept me looking over my shoulder more and more often as the days went by, even after the mystery of the murders had been solved.
We all spoke in hushed tones of the curse that seemed to have taken hold of this performance, as if Cheryl’s vengeful ghost wouldn’t allowWretchedto go on stage without her. I shivered, looking behind me, half expecting to find her specter watching, but there was nothing.
I made my way down the stairs from the rehearsal studio into the atrium, my stomach flipping when I caught sight of the sun reflecting off Ben’s copper hair. Relief flooded through me to see him waiting. He wore his suit, his back to me as he studied the huge, framed posters of Broadway productions that had rehearsed in this building.
We were days away from being able to move onto the actual Broadway stage, and I couldn’t help believing that once we got out of this building, the malevolent feeling would be lifted. The macabre memories of the studio would fade into the whirlwind of rehearsals with lights and costumes, and twelve-hour workdays, and the nightmare that had happened in this studio would be nothing more than a bad memory.
Ben turned, watching my descent from his spot in the atrium, and my stomach dropped as I stumbled off the last step.
“Hey.” My voice was a breathless whisper.
He gifted me with my favorite panty-dropping smile, making me weak in the knees. “Hey, princess.”
When would this feeling go away? The butterflies and the excitement and the need twisting in my stomach whenever I saw him. How had I ever thought I could give him up, that I’d be able to let him go? I should have realized after our first night together that I was a goner for this man. He infuriated me and captivated me all at once.
“You ready?” he asked.
“Almost. I need to grab my bag out of my locker,” I answered. “You can wait out here. I’ll only be a minute.”
“Maybe I should come in there with you. I woke up to you topless in my bed and couldn’t get the image out of my head all day.”
I offered him a bemused smile. “You can pay them all the attention you want when we get back to your place. I’ll be right back.”
Heat prickled down the back of my neck as he watched me walk away from him.
I was surprised to see Scarlette at her locker, purple circles bruising the skin under her eyes. She’d lost sleep over the murders just like I had, but she didn’t have friends that were like family and the man of her dreams to pull her back from the endless worries and questions.
I walked to the locker next to hers. “I thought everyone else had left,” I said, spinning the dial of the combination lock and opening it.
She looked up from what she was doing, startled to find me next to her.
“I had a couple of things I needed to work on,” she said as she hastily grabbed her bag, shoving her locker’s contents inside. In her rush, papers slid out of her folder, scores and script notes drifting to the tiled floor.
