12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Christian

Alarms blare in my head as I register the words I let slip. The ones that felt oh so real.

You’re mine.

Emil is looking up at me in utter rapture, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t break his gaze. Can’t figure out why this man has me in his clutches. He has since the moment I first saw him spread out on his bed, glasses crooked and dick in hand.

I want him. I want him , and I’m having a hard time remembering why I can’t just have him.

Emil lets go of my hips as I step back, and my skirt falls haphazardly over my cock. I force myself to turn toward the tablet as I sink down to the bed, hoping I didn’t mess up the shot when I stood up in the first place. I don’t worry about it right now. I slow my breaths and focus on work.

“You get two choices,” I tell the viewers, aiming a smirk their way. “One way or another, I’m fucking Fe. Hands and knees? Or on his back?”

Comments pour in, and there’s no way I can do an actual count, but I skim them nonetheless, not sure which option I want them to pick. Part of me is desperate to see Emil’s eyes. The other… The other part of me knows that’s dangerous.

I idly take stock of one of the cameramen moving around me and the boom operator nearby, but it’s amazing how easy it is to block it all out. I wonder, for Emil, if it’s something he’s always aware of. If it skims along his skin like electricity.

Decision made with the help of our viewers, I turn back to Emil, who’s still kneeling, his cock out, lips puffy and red.

“Have you ever been fucked by a man in a skirt, Fe?”

His eyes never leave mine. “Ask me again in five minutes.”

I bark out a laugh. This . This is why I can’t resist the man before me. He makes me feel light. He makes me happy .

“Hands and knees, Fe,” I say hoarsely. “I’m gonna fuck you like I own you. You’re going to take it and plead for more. And they’re going to watch every single second .”

Emil’s eyes shutter, and he blows out a breath before snapping into action. As I grab a condom, he shucks off his clothes. Once nude, he flips onto his hands and knees and presents his ass. His forearms meet the bed, and he drops his cheek to the sheets, back arching. He looks like a man ready to be taken. Ready to be owned .

I try to tell myself this is just sex—just playing, just our job—but the fiery heat flowing through my veins doesn’t let me believe it. Not fully. I wasn’t supposed to develop feelings. I didn’t want to want more.

But I do. And I don’t know what to do with that.

Emil barely flinches when I bring lubed fingers to his ass. He leans into it, muscles relaxed, his entire body languid. My finger slips in with ease.

“More,” Emil says instantly.

A smile pulls at my lips. “What did I tell you? Begging already.”

I slip in two.

“Be confident…later,” he huffs out. “Once your cock…is in me…making good on your promise.”

I twist my fingers, and Emil curses. “You don’t think I can make you feel just as good like this?” I goad, adding a third digit.

“You said…you’d own me,” he replies, hips rolling back against my fingers as I fuck him looser. “So give me your goddamn cock, Vixen. Pin me to this fucking bed, and own me already.”

Jesus fucking Christ .

I breathe a silent apology to my skirt as I get up on my knees behind Emil, knowing the fabric will need a damn good cleaning after this. I press the tip of my cock to Emil’s asshole, hand holding tight to his hip.

“Come on ,” he urges, his glasses askew as he looks back at me, his cheek rosy bright. “Come on,” he says again, softer but no less vehemently.

“Whatever you want, Fe.”

Emil’s breath whooshes out of him as I ram forward. His body accommodates me, making way, muscles throttling my cock as I sink balls-deep. I shift, grinding more than fucking, and Emil mewls, his fingers flexing against the sheets.

“Better, Fe? Is this what you wanted? You wanted to be filled and fucked and owned for all to see?”

His answer is a garbled moan. I keep grinding, waiting for some of that resistance to give way. I know Emil has expert control over his body, but I still don’t want to hurt him. Couldn’t bear it. I glance over my shoulder as I take stock of everything around us. The crew is silent as they work, and no cues are being given, so I stroke over Emil’s ass cheek as I read the live chat.

“Gorgeous, isn’t he?” I ask the viewers. My skirt is rucked up, still falling over my own ass but not obscuring Emil’s. I pull out just a little and then push back in, letting them see my cock sinking slowly into Emil’s body. “He feels perfect. Perfect , Fe.”

“You’d feel better if you moved,” he answers, the cheeky fuck.

I grin, snapping my hips forward. He groans.

“BigApple14 wants me to give you a creampie, Fe. What do you think? Should I flood your ass with my cum?”

“After…you fuck me,” he huffs, angling his hips to take my cock deeper. “Or are you just planning to talk me to orgasm?”

I muffle a laugh, unable to hide my grin as I smooth my hand up and down Emil’s back. When I reach his tailbone, I stroke over the swell of his ass. “Hold on to something, Fe.”

“What am I supposed to—”

His question ends abruptly as I fuck into him exactly like I promised I would. As if he’s mine . Emil scrambles to grab hold of the sheets, his face sinking into the bedding, his glasses getting knocked away. He takes every single thing I give him, and, for minutes, that’s all there is. Emil’s ass. The slap of skin on skin. His moans and my spoken encouragement—telling him how good he feels, how sexy he looks, how those watching can see exactly how well he takes my cock.

I fuck him until his panting breaths become uneven. Until he starts losing purchase, his legs shaking and arms trembling. I fuck him until he slips down to the bed, my own body following, my hips pressing him into the mattress as my lips find the nape of his neck. My fingers thread through his, holding tight as I roll my hips, sinking inside his body again and again.

“ Vixen ,” he groans.

I let go of his hand to tug Emil’s hip into the air, giving me the space to grab hold of his cock. One of the cameramen sinks to his haunches feet from the bed as I jerk Emil off.

“Do you feel it, Fe?” I rasp, my teeth near his earlobe. “Can you feel the way your body belongs to me?”

He groans.

“I want you to come,” I tell him. “And I want you to do it now. I want you to lose yourself all over my fingers and think about the people who are coming with you, so turned on, they can’t help it.”

He inhales sharply, his eyes flying open and his body starting to clamp down on me. I grind against him, letting my hair conceal my face as I drop my lips to his ear, speaking at a whisper.

“Come on, my little exhibitionist. Show yourself off like the beautiful work of art you are.”

With a hoarse cry, Emil coats my fingers. I jerk his cock as it throbs in my fist, working him through his orgasm. Only once he groans in oversensitivity do I stop, pulling back and hoisting his hips up as I slip entirely from his body. Emil gets his knees under him, his breath ragged but his eyes bright as he looks back at me. I strip off the condom—knowing I have approval to do so for this purpose—and stroke myself to that look in his eye. Right before I come, I kiss Emil’s asshole with my cock.

My cum pools on his still loose hole, ropes of it unleashing until I’m utterly spent. Back bowed the way he is, it stays there, creamy white and practically begging for me to push it inside of him with my fingertips. I don’t. I rub my thumb against his taint, up into my release, teasing his rim for just a moment before pulling away. I bring my thumb to Emil’s lips.

“Taste.”

His mouth wraps around the digit, tongue swirling as he gathers my cum into his mouth.

“Do you like the flavor of me on your skin?” I ask cheekily.

He releases my thumb, his eyes on me but squinted ever so slightly, as if I’m blurred in his vision. “Vixen.”

“Mm?”

“Maybe you should try for yourself.”

I let out a pained laugh. “Fuck, Fe.”

“Yes, you just did,” he snarks, not moving as he smiles at me over his shoulder.

Shaking my head, I lean back in, grabbing Emil’s ass cheeks and bringing my tongue to his hole. He groans, a sound of pure satisfaction. Dutifully, I lick the cum from his skin.

It tastes like us.

“That was hot as fuck,” a voice says the moment I push into the break room. Alex gives me a grin. “You two have chemistry for days.”

I huff a laugh, swiping my damp hair out of my eyes. “You were watching?”

He nods, completely unabashed by that fact. There’s a drink in his hand with a straw poking out of it and his phone is in the other. “The chat went haywire when you called him yours, you know. People are speculating that you’re a couple.”

I hum, my insides doing a very complicated dance as I grab a peach tea from the fridge. When I turn back around, Alex has a brow raised.

“Quite the defense,” he teases.

“We’re not dating,” I say, even though I’m realizing that, maybe , I want us to be.

“But you two are chummy,” he replies. “Makes me wonder.”

It’s then I realize Alex, at the very least, and the rest of our coworkers at most, aren’t aware that Emil and I knew each other before I started working here. On one hand, I understand why Emil hasn’t said anything if his secret exhibitionist habits are, in fact, a secret.

But, on the other hand… There’s a part of me that wonders if he’s ashamed of me . Of whatever sort of relationship we’ve shared over the past three plus months, nearly four now. Does he not want people to know we’re neighbors and…friends?

“Chemistry,” I answer, popping the cap on my tea. “Like you said.”

“Sure, sure,” Alex answers, scrolling through his phone, even though I’m fairly certain it’s a ploy to make me think he’s not observing me. When Emil himself walks into the break room, hair freshly wet from his own shower, Alex’s eyes ping his way. “Hey, boo.”

“Hey,” Emil says, grabbing a bag of chips. He hovers for a moment before coming over to sit near me and Alex.

I can’t help but take him in, even though I just spent the better part of two hours in his presence. His dark brows are set in a line, as if he’s thinking about something with that clever brain of his. His cheeks are still a little red from the heat of the shower. And he’s perched at the edge of his seat as if attending a lecture, which I’m guessing is more due to habit than any soreness in his ass.

Compared to Alex, who exudes sexual energy, it’d be hard at a glance to guess Emil is as wild and uninhibited as he is. I wonder if that’s intentional on his part or if he’s simply used to hiding himself away.

The thought has a frown pulling at my lips, but Alex’s voice redirects my attention.

“ Soo ,” the small blonde says, “how’s our favorite crustacean doing?”

“He’s fine,” Emil mumbles, rolling his eyes as he opens his chips.

Alex snorts, but then he explains, for my benefit, “Emil is a crab daddy.”

Before I can figure out whether or not I should say anything, Emil pipes up. “He knows. He’s met Arthur.”

Alex’s head turns my way slowly. “Is that so?”

I shrug, although that tightness in my chest releases. Maybe Emil isn’t ashamed of us, after all.

“Although, really,” Emil continues, sounding as grumbly as I’ve ever heard him, “why you feel the need to announce that to everyone is beyond me, Alex.”

Alex gasps. “ Emil . You should be proud of your shell-baby. What would Arthur say if he could hear you?”

Emil levels Alex with a flat expression that has me stifling a laugh. “Nothing, Alex. He’d say nothing. He’s a crab.”

Alex sniffs. “A crab with feelings.”

Emil shakes his head, but Alex goes on in a rush.

“Oh! Christian, has anyone invited you to Sublime yet? It’s our go-to club on Friday nights. Emil hasn’t been in ages . Maybe you can drag him along.”

“I’m sitting right here,” Emil mutters.

“I’d be up for that,” I say, giving Emil a swift grin. “Maybe I could wear that red skirt I was telling you about.”

Emil sucks in a breath. It’s quiet, and I would have missed it if I hadn’t been looking directly at him. But the reaction has my pulse hitching all the same.

“That, uh… Yeah. I guess that’d be okay,” he says.

Alex looks between the two of us. “Interesting,” he whispers.

Emil tucks back into his bag of chips, and even though Friday is days away, I’m already planning ahead. And if the outfit I have in mind is designed to drive a certain bespectacled neighbor of mine wild, well…

That can be my little secret.