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“In here?” I glance around at the men still in the room. They’ve abandoned wigs and makeup for muscle tops and tight pants and gruff voices. There’s a hell of a lot of testosterone and the only genuine curves in the room are not getting naked in front of them. No fucking way.
She rolls her gaze at me. Tips her head to indicate a door on the other side of the room. “Come with me.”
We enter a smaller area off the main dressing room. A solo dressing table sits against one wall. A rack with several changes of clothes is pushed up against another. She removes the wig she’s wearing and then the cap over her chocolate locks. With the removal of a couple of pins they tumble down her back like a shiny waterfall.
Reaching over her shoulder she scoops her hair over to one side. “Can you give me a hand?”
I take the couple of steps and grab the end of the lacing threaded through the corset. My fingertips sizzle when I touch her skin. Laying a hand on her shoulder I tug until the knot in the ribbon unravels.
She sighs as it loosens. “That’s so much better.”
The stays pull apart as I tug each loop loose. It’s an unbelievable tease. Her bare skin is marred by the tightness of the costume. She clasps the front of it to her tits with her hands in an attempt to be modest.
I trail my fingers up and down her spine. I can’t help myself. I love touching her. And the way she smells like dessert. It makes my mouth water. I grasp her throat with my hand and press my lips to that soft spot where neck meets shoulder. Leave the indent of my teeth in her skin. “I missed you this week.”
“I missed you too,” she whispers on heated breath. “I hated not seeing you.”
“I wanted to storm the castle and come look after you. Feed you chicken soup or whatever good boyfriends are supposed to do.” I slip my hand under the loose edge of the corset and stroke her silken skin.
A barely there moan escapes her lips.
I can smell her arousal as it floods her body.
She leans against my chest. “I don’t know that I want a good boyfriend when you touch me like this. I just want you. Good. Bad. Everything.”
“You needed to rest.” I move her hands up to grip my neck before I cup her tits. The weight of them is perfect in my hand. Her nipples peak between my fingers and thumbs. “And I wouldn’t have been able to keep my hands off you.”
The truth is I’d had to work. As much as I wanted to be with Ivy all week, I had responsibilities. Scenes had to be finished on time so the movie budget didn’t get blown out of proportion. And Adira was with her the whole time. If there’s one man I can trust to look after my baby the way I’d want…no, should…it’s him.
“Rogue.”
I will never get tired of the way she says my name. Or the way she responds to me like she can’t get enough. My fingertips skim her belly button and dip inside the waist of her voluminous skirt while my other hand continues to knead her breast.
She convulses with need at my featherlight touch. Her lips greedily seek mine. She reaches behind her to grip me through my pants.
I groan into her neck. I’m hard and on edge and desperately waiting for her to be ready when every instinct is to strip her bare and fill her. I find the edge of her lace panties and drive my hand underneath to find her flooded.
She whimpers as my finger circles her clit. “Oh God.”
“You’re so wet, baby.” My finger glides in easily. Then two to stroke that perfect erogenous zone that will have her falling apart oh so sweetly.
“God, Rogue. God.” She groans as she bucks to my hand, her ass grinding against her hand still wrapped around my cock.
Her head tipped up for my mouth, I watch her reflection in the glass on the dressing table. So wanton. So sexy. So fucking perfect. I would crawl across glass for another taste of her.
I relinquish her breast and push her forward, until her palms splay on the table in front of her. My mouth burns a trail on the nape of her neck and down her shoulder as I pull my fingers from her pussy and put them between my lips.
Her eyes widen, the honey color darkens as she watches me in the mirror.
“I missed your taste.” I smile. “And I warned you I’d be between those legs every day until you decide you are ready. I have days to make up for. Now stick your ass out and don’t move.”
Her breath pants out of her. Shallow wordless noises that speak volumes as I sink to my knees behind her. Gathering the material of the train I slip under it. Her scent is strong and it calls to the animal in me. I slide my hands up the sides of her thighs and hook my fingers around the flimsy bit of material between me and my goal.
“Oh my God.” She whispers a prayer at the sound of me ripping away her panties.
She cries out when I grip her hips and plunge my tongue into her center. Her knees give as her juice coats my mouth and throat. Only my hold on her keeps her upright.
“Ivy, keep still,” I order.
