Summary: Sure, burlesque wasnât as popular in the 90s anymore, but they never stopped you from doing something you were passionate about. You traveled between Las Vegas Los Angeles, performing at many high end burlesque club, used to the crowd of business men and socialites â but you were never used to have a group of rockstars in the crowd watching you.
Pairing: Rockstar Eddie Munson & Burlesque Dancer Reader
Tags: Mature Themes, Mutual Pinning, Smut, Sexual Themes, Burlesque Dancing, Tension, Flirting, Pet-Names (Baby & Sweetheart), Dressing Room Sex, Protected Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Praising, Slight Body Worshipping, Oral Sex, Fingering, Finger-Sucking, Doggy-Style, Hair-Pulling, Slight Choking, â Both are consenting adults that know what they want.
A/N: The reader is called âLettieâ because her stage name is Scarlet soo Lettie is just a nickname given to her :)
The first thing you notice about Los Angeles is that it hums with bright, lively energy. Neon signs buzzing above liquor stores and tattoo parlors, leaving Sunset Boulevard glowing in electric pink and poisonous green fluorescents. At the same time, the scent of cigarette smoke, hairspray, and ambition lingers heavily within the air, leaving the city on the verge of something breaking or becoming something.
You pressed your head against the cool taxi window, watching as it passed through the city, palm trees blurring past in streaks of beige and shadows across the asphalt. Back in Las Vegas, the lights are manufactured fantasy, carrying addictive ambition and egotistical pride, but here, everything feels hungry, like people are chasing something that can make or break them.
The garment bag lies across your lap, holding the burgundy costume, the one that always makes the room go quiet before gasps of appreciation fill the silence. It carries the satin corset, with black lace detailing that traces along the curve like whispered secrets, paired with matching lace garter straps and sheer stockings, and a red feathered fan thatâs been deemed your signature item.
Youâve been invited to perform for a week at some burlesque club tucked between an old bar and a tattoo parlor on the Strip. Here in Los Angeles, burlesque clubs were the most popular places. The popular scene was anything involving rock nâ roll or metal music, crowding whatever bar was playing guitar solos loud enough that it felt like lightning strikes rumbling through your skin.
Still, you have your audience. You always do, but you didnât know that your audience tonight would include a certain rockstar who stared at you like something serenely divine.
The club is smaller than most of the lounges back in Vegas, but it has character with its deep crimson walls, decorated with golden-framed mirrors and round tables lit by low lamps that cast everything in a sinful glow. The stage is circular and intimate, close enough that you can see the exact moment desire flickers behind someoneâs eyes.
Backstage smells like powder, perfume, and nerves.
You sit in front of the mirror, bulbs framing your reflection in warm light as you lace yourself into the corset, tugging the strings tighter until your waist cinches and breathing turns shallow in the way that makes your posture appear perfect. You smooth the black lace over your hips, adjusting the stockings and fastening the garters wrapped around your thighs.
When you look in the mirror, you feel transformed, though not in the way that brings exposure or vulnerability, but something that invites the power of being able to command a room without speaking a single demand.
Out in the main room, the crowd is beginning with a lively atmosphere after another venue down the street celebrated some non-local metal band that just went platinum. The entire city has been buzzing about them, magazines filled with their photos, music blasting on nearly every radio in each car that passes by. The DJ mentioned their name earlier when you arrived, while majority of the girls grinned with excitement as they whispered about the band.
But you didnât catch it, you were too focused on the stage.
âčâËâ§ïž”âżâàšá°à§ââżïž”â§Ëââč
Down the street, the crowded bar is vibrating with the post-celebration adrenaline. Eddie settles into the chair, head tilted back as he laughs loudly at something one of his bandmates said. He looks different from the way he did all those years ago in Hawkins, the curls are longer now, wild and untamed past his shoulders. There are rings on nearly every finger now, and even a sleeve of tattoos peeking out from under the sleeve of his skirt.
The newfound frame sits on him strangely, though itâs not arrogant or obnoxious. Instead, it sits on him like a jacket that he was never meant to put on, but somehow fits anyway.
âCâmon, man.â Gareth insists, clapping him on the shoulder. âWe just went platinum. We deserve something better than sticky floors and watered-down beer.â
âI heard thereâs this burlesque place a few doors down. Apparently, some new dancer is performing tonight.â Jeff adds on, grinning in amusement as he stares between the two of them.
âA burlesque place?â Eddie questions, raising an eyebrow. âWhat is this, 1940?â
âMaybe itâs better than a strip club,â Gareth jokes, nudging Eddie playfully, clearly egging on Jeffâs suggestion. âClassier, ya know. Tits with jazz.â
âDude, youâre an idiot.â Eddie chuckles, shaking his head at their behavior.
But he goes anyway, telling himself that itâs for the guys, for the celebration, and the story that theyâll laugh at later because he doesn't really expect anything worthwhile.
âčâËâ§ïž”âżâàšá°à§ââżïž”â§Ëââč
The house lights dim, and a sultry melody plays through the speakers, something slow and teasing, with a pulsing rhythm beneath. You step onto the stage surrounded in darkness until the spotlight hits, pulling everyoneâs attention onto you.
You donât rush the performance, letting one heel slowly click against the floor as you take your place at the center of the stage. The red satin gleams beneath the lighting, black lace casting delicate shadows against the curve of your skin. You lift your shin, the feathered fan brushing against your thigh as the room forms around you.
Eddie leans back in his chair, one arm lazily slung over the backrest, smirking faintly as if heâs preparing to be anything but impressed, until you start moving, and he realizes this isnât what he expected.
Thereâs no desperation in your movements, or any frantic stripping. Every motion is deliberate and controlled, as the feathered fan brushes against your skin, shoulders slowly rolling with the rhythm of the music, back arching subtly enough to draw attention without begging for it, because you arenât performing for them.
Youâre simply gracing them with your presence.
His smirk fades as the music slides deeper, bass thrumming intimately against the speakers. You glide across the stage, heels clicking against the floor with precision as the fan snaps open in a burst of red, hiding half your body. You peek over the top of it, eyes scanning the crowd with a lazy, yet predatory expression.
Your gaze passes over businessmen, tourists, and men who are already leaning forward, practically drooling at the sight of you. Itâs all expected, until your attention catches a pair of brown eyes and silver rings that glowed in the warm light. He wasnât shouting like the others, or whistling loudly; he was just watching, eyes following your every movement like you were something holy.
The intensity of it makes your breath hitch, something barely noticeable to the crowd, but you feel it resting uncomfortably against your chest. You turn away first, focusing on the performance, hiding the spike of interest, because control was everything right now.
Eddie doesnât even realize heâs leaning forward until Gareth elbows him, staring at him with a knowing expression before smirking. âDude, youâre staring.â Gareth adds.
But, Eddie doesnât answer.
You circle the stage slowly, dragging the edge of the feather fan down your arm, across your collarbone, and between the curve of your breasts, before stopping between your legs and flashing the crowd that signature taunting expression. The movement is teasing, something suggestive enough to let their thoughts race without giving anything away.
When you turn your back to the audience, you glance over your shoulder, staring directly at him. His fingers tighten around his drink, jaw clenching slightly because heâs seen girls backstage at shows, even groupies trying desperately to find some proximity to fame, but there wasnât any hunger in your expression, just a silent challenge.
You begin unlacing the gloves from your hands, slowly peeling one finger free at a time. Each movement is perfectly timed with the musicâs pulse, and when you finally toss the glove into the crowd, someone eagerly lunges for it.
You donât look at anyone else in the audience, keeping your eyes focused on him, this time refusing to look away from the undivided attention. The attention almost feels dangerous, silent and devoted, because he isnât reacting the same way everyone else is.
Heâs studying you, like heâs trying to understand something.
Eddie feels like heâs being pulled somewhere he didnât mean to go, falling underneath some spell that left him enchanted with each elegant shift of your hips, and when you step toward the edge of the stage that was closest to his table, the air suddenly feels thinner with tension.
You kneel gracefully, bringing yourself closer to his level, the spotlight following you every move as the fan brushes beneath his chin, smiling proudly at the sudden hitch in his breathing. Up close, you can see the faint scar on his brow and the way his lashes cast shadows against sharp cheekbones. Thereâs something boyish there beneath the rockstar exterior, something honest.
You lean in, not enough to touch, but close enough that he can feel the warmth radiating off your body, and the gourmand smell of your perfume. âEnjoying the show, darling?â You whisper, just loud enough for his ears only.
âYeah,â Eddie murmurs, voice rougher than he expected. âYeah, I am.â
You pull away first, standing in one fluid motion, the fan flaring widely as you move back toward center stage. Your posture straightens, fingers slowly tracking up the sheer stocking, watching the crowd with that condensing pout as you slowly tug at the lace wrapping around your thighs. The crowd reacts audibly, people whistling loudly while some clapped in appreciation, but none of that was the reason for your racing heartbeat.
Itâs racing because for the first time in a long time, someone looked at you like that.
Not like a body, but like a force.
By the time your performance ends with a dramatic flourish of feathers and a perfectly timed blackout, the entire room erupts with applause, whistles, and the scrape of chairs as men stood up. You bowed gracefully, listening to the sound of applause for a moment before rising, eyes catching his one last time.
But, he isnât cheering loudly like the others. Heâs on his feet too, smiling calmly like he just discovered something that he didnât know he needed.
âčâËâ§ïž”âżâàšá°à§ââżïž”â§Ëââč
You exhale heavily once you're backstage, adrenaline shaking through you, making your fingers tremble slightly as you set down the fan. The sound of chatter fills the silence, their laughter drifting in through the closed door of your dressing room, but your mind is drifting somewhere else.
The sound of knocking quickly snaps you away from your thoughts, looking over the door as the clubâs manager pokes her head in. âYouâve got some visitors, Lettie.â She says with a knowing smirk.
âPlural?â You hum, arching a brow.
âBand guys. The platinum ones. They asked if youâd say hi.â She explains, expression dull, like this was something obvious.
You hesitate for a moment, because youâve met musicians before and most of them think the world owes them something, but you agree. âAlright, just give me a minute.â You say softly.
Once the door closes, you donât bother changing out of the corset, just reapplying your lipstick.
âčâËâ§ïž”âżâàšá°à§ââżïž”â§Ëââč
Eddie almost doesnât go backstage, because the thought feels stupid, almost juvenile, like being seventeen again and working up the nerve to talk to a girl after a show.
âDude, you were practically drooling.â Jeff teases.
âI was not.â Eddie snaps automatically, glancing at Jeff with an unamused expression.
âYou so were.â Gareth grins tauntingly.
Eddie ignores them, telling himself that he just wants to complement your performance, from one artist to another, just simple respect for artistry and nothing more than that, but his pulse doesnât agree with him.
When you step into the little lounge backstage, their conversation dies instantly, because you look even more unreal close up. The red satin of your corset catches the low lighting, hugging your figure perfectly as your hair cascades over your shoulder, lipstick still painted on perfectly despite the heat of the stage lights.
Your gaze lands on Eddie first, something knowing simmering beneath your expression. âWell, to what do I owe the pleasure?â You ask smoothly, voice dripping like velvety smoke.
Gareth starts to speak, but Eddie quickly cuts him off. âWe just wanted to say, you were incredible out there.â He says in admiration.
You study him carefully, a subtle smile curving over your lips. âJust incredible?â You tease lightly.
He huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. âNo. Thatâs not the word.â His eyes drop briefly to the lace at your waist, then return to your face. âYou were mesmerizing.â
âMesmerizing?â You repeat softly, something in your chest tightening as you step closer.
The space between you narrows, not touching, but close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from him. âYou donât seem like this is your usual scene.â You point out.
âIt wasnât until about five minutes in.â He admits.
âAnd now?â You question, smile deepening slightly.
âNow I donât think Iâll ever look at a stage the same way again.â Eddie says with no hesitation
The air shifts, thickening with something unreadable as your fingers lift, brushing lightly across the silver rings on his hand, the contact brief, but electric. âSo, youâre the band everyoneâs talking about.â You ask quietly.
âGuess so.â Eddie shrugs, smirking proudly.
âPlatinum album, and you still look at me like that.â You add, almost in disbelief, as you look over his expression.
âLike what?â He asks, brows furrowing together in amused confusion.
âLike Iâm the one on top of the world.â
âMaybe you are.â Eddie says softly.
The words land somewhere deep because youâve been desired before, youâve been admitted before, but this feels different, and now your pulse is pounding against your chest.
âYouâre in town long?â He asks.
âThatâs convenient.â
You laugh, soft and genuine, but the conversation is cut short when someone down the hallway calls your name. You glance toward the sound, then back at him. âWalk me out? After I change.â You ask lightly.
âYeah.â He answers immediately.
âčâËâ§ïž”âżâàšá°à§ââżïž”â§Ëââč
Standing underneath the neon glow of The Velvet Haloâs sign, the night starts to feel warmer as the rest of the band drifts ahead, giving space without commenting on it. You stand close to him on the sidewalk, red replaced by something comfortable and loose, but the memory of the feathers lingers between you.
The city continues around you, cars passing as music spills faintly from nearby clubs, but his attention remains on you.âYou always command a room like that?â He asks.
âYou always watch like youâre trying to worship something?â You counter, tilting your head slightly with an amused smirk.
âMaybe.â Eddie says, a breathless laugh slipping past his lips.
You step closer, close enough that your chest nearly brushes his. âIf I asked you to come see me again tomorrow, would you?â You ask quietly.
âYeah. I would.â He says without any hesitation.
âAnd if I asked you to meet me somewhere quieter after?â
His breath catches, but he nods. âI would, whatever you asked.â
âYou sound very sure.â You point out, fingers sliding across the zipper of his jacket.
You study him one last time, then you lean in slowly and deliberately pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. It wasnât directly pressed against his lips, but the touch was just enough to seem like a promise instead of something innocent, and when you pulled back, his eyes darkened.
âTomorrow, rockstar.â You whisper, then step away, heels clicking against pavement as you disappear into the Los Angeles night.
Behind you, Eddie Munson stands beneath the neon glow, heart pounding like a drum solo, already knowing that platinum records and screaming crowds have never felt as intoxicating as the way you looked at him under a single spotlight.
Tomorrow, heâll be back in the front row.
âčâËâ§ïž”âżâàšá°à§ââżïž”â§Ëââč
The second night feels different before you even step through the doors of the club, because Los Angeles is louder tonight. After all, the word has spread about the platinum band celebrating on the Strip and about the burlesque dancer in red who made half the room forget how to breathe.
Inside, the air is thick as anticipation hums beneath the chatter like feedback before a guitar solo. You sit at your vanity backstage, staring at your reflection. The bulbs framing the mirror glow warmly, but your skin feels cool as you press your fingertips lightly against your throat, feeling your heartbeat there.
Heâll be here, this time it wonât be accidentally or dragged in by his bandmates. Heâll be here because you asked him to be, and that changes everything, because youâve commanded rooms before. Youâve performed for businessmen, tourists, lonely husbands, and even curious couples. You know how to seduce a crowd and own the spotlight, but tonight, this isnât about the crowd.
The black corset is sharper than the red one, sleeker and tighter. The lace detailing trails like delicate spiderwebs across your ribs and hips, and the neckline plunges deeper, edged with intricate black beading that catches and fractures the glow of the stage lights. The stockings are sheer, smoky, and your heels lacquered black, tall and lethal, with daggers designed onto the stiletto.
Your hair has been styled into structured curls, glossy and dramatic, framing your face in vintage glamour. Your lips are painted a deeper crimson than last night, borderline deep wine, and your eyes are darker too, heavily lined, shadowed in charcoal and plum.
It all looks almost vampiric, predatory and intentional.
When you stand, the transformation feels complete, and you look like something that belongs to midnight. The club manager knocks before peeking inside. âHey, Lettie. Packed house tonight, people heard about last night.â
You glance over at him, a small smile curving over your lips. âI guess I left a good impression.â
âčâËâ§ïž”âżâàšá°à§ââżïž”â§Ëââč
Out front, Eddie Munson sits closer to the stage than he ever has in his life. He told himself heâd play it cool tonight, that he wouldnât act like some lovesick idiot, but he failed the moment he walked in. The place was overflowing with filled tables and bodies standing along the walls, the entire club carrying an edge in the air, like everyone senses something is about to happen.
Gareth leans toward him, smirking. âShe requested we come again, huh?â
Eddie doesnât answer because he hasnât stopped thinking about the way you kissed the corner of his mouth, and the way your fingers traced the rings on his hand like they meant something. He told himself it was flirtation, just some performance bleeding into real life, but when he laid awake in his hotel room, staring at the ceiling, it didnât feel like a performance.
The lights dim, and the chatter lowers into a murmur, then an opening guitar riff tears through the speakers. His head snaps up immediately because he knows that riff, he wrote that guitar riff. Itâs raw and heavy, the opening of Corroded Coffinâs newest single, the same one thatâs climbing charts across the country.
The bass thrums deep, the drums sharp and insistent, and for a moment, the entire room is confused, then the spotlight ignites, and you step into it. The moment Eddie sees you, dressed in black like a goddess of something divine, he nearly forgets how to breathe.
You donât move right away, letting the music fill the space, letting the crowd realize what theyâre hearing, watching the ripple of recognition when people realize what exactly theyâre listening to. Your eyes find him in the crowd, a small, barely noticeable smile curving over your lips as you slowly begin swaying your hips to the rhythm of his own music.
The heavy guitar becomes something sensual in your hands, and Eddie feels like heâs watching something heavenly. His song was written in a cramped rehearsal space, sweat and frustration and adrenaline. It was meant to be loud and rebellious, but now itâs transformed into something dangerous.
Your movements arenât frantic, theyâre deliberate. You turn your back to the crowd, glancing over your shoulder at him as the chorus hits, hips rolling precisely as each motion is synced perfectly with the drums.
The room fades, leaving only you and him as you trace the feathered fan along the soft curve of your breast, flashing a seductive smile as the spotlight trickles over your figure, earning a collective murmur from the audience, but you arenât looking at them, youâre looking at the man whose lyrics are spilling through the speakers.
Eddieâs pulse hammers in his ears as he recognizes his own voice layered into the track, rough and commanding, watching you move to it changes everything. It feels intimate, almost sacred now.
You step down from the stage, gasps echoing through the club because burlesque isnât meant to break the fourth wall so boldly, but you do.
You move between tables like a shadow, heels clicking softly and fingertips trailing across tabletops as shadows of your lashes fall against your cheeks whenever you lower your gaze.
Then you stop, directly in front of him.
You place one knee on the edge of his table, leaning forward slightly. The black satin outfit glistens in the lighting, letting the lace of your stockings brush against his thigh as your hand finds his shoulder, resting there comfortably.
The contact is electrifying as he stares up at you like youâre something otherworldly. You lean down, lips hovering near his ear. âYou recognize it?â You murmur, your voice barely audible beneath the music.
His throat moves when he swallows. âYeah, I recognize it, sweetheart.â Eddie breathes out.
You straighten slowly, dragging your fingers from his shoulder down to his hand, and hooking one of his rings gently with your fingertip before releasing him. The crowd watches, but they feel distant because this is strictly a conversation between you and him.
You return to the stage as the final chorus builds. This time, your movements are sharper, more intense. You arch back dramatically, hands sliding through your hair as the drums crash. The corset laces loosen slightly at your motion, revealing more, but never everything.
You spin, black lace flaring, curls bouncing with the motion as the song ends with a thunderous finish, freezing in that final performance pose, chest rising and falling heavily with anticipation.
Thereâs a pause of silence, then the room explodes with applause and whistles, but youâre only watching one reaction. Eddie is on his feet, just staring at you with something that borders on awe.
âčâËâ§ïž”âżâàšá°à§ââżïž”â§Ëââč
The backstage area feels smaller tonight as you close the dressing room door behind you, leaning against it for a moment and exhaling shakily, because tonightâs performance didnât feel like just a performance.
A soft knock comes a few minutes later, and you already know who it is. When you open the door, heâs standing there alone this time, looking dazed and slightly disheveled.
âYou used our song,â Eddie says, his voice low.
âDid you mind?â You ask, tilting your head slightly.
He steps inside without thinking, the door clicking shut behind him. âDo I mind? You turned it into something else.â
âI wanted to.â You whisper, closing the distance even more.
âBecause you were watching.â
The honesty hangs between you, thick and heavy. Eddie studies your face like heâs searching for insincerity, and when he doesnât find any, he speaks again. âYou have any idea what that did to me?â He asks quietly.
âWhat did it do?â You ask, feeling your pulse quicken beneath your skin.
His hand lifts, hesitating for a second before settling lightly at your waist. âIt made it feel like that song wasnât mine anymore. It felt like yours.â He admits.
âMaybe it is now.â You whisper, heat blooming between your legs.
His thumb shifts slightly against the lace at your hip, the contact sends a spark through you. âYou were incredible out there, sweetheart.â Eddie whispers.
âI wasnât even on stage.â
âYou didnât have to be.â
Silence falls again, but this time itâs charged and heavy with everything neither of you have said. Your hand lifts, fingers brushing against his jaw lightly, almost testing for his response. When he leans into it instinctively, the movement steals your breath.
âYouâre not like the others.â You say softly.
He huffs a quiet laugh, glancing away for a brief second. âYeah, Iâve heard that my whole life.â
âI mean it differently.â
Your heart pounds as you step closer, bodies nearly touching. âYou look at me like Iâm more than what Iâm wearing.â
His hand tightens slightly at your waist, but itâs not possessive. âYou are, sweetheart.â Eddie says immediately and the certainty in his voice makes your chest ache.
For a moment, neither of you moves, then he does, and his other hand comes up slowly, brushing a curl away from your cheek. His fingers slide lightly into your hair, not ruining the style, just holding you there.
âYou keep doing that,â Eddie murmurs.
âMaking it impossible to look anywhere else.â
âMaybe I donât want you to.â
And, that was all it took for the space between you to disappear.
The kiss is slow at first, testing and warm. His lips are moving against yours like heâs memorizing the shape of them. Your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer as heat spreads through you like wildfire.
His hand slides from your waist, the heaviness of his palm resting against the stretch of your back, keeping you pressed firmly against him. He pulls back just enough to look at you. âTell me to stop, and I will.â Eddie says quietly.
âI donât want you to stop.â
âWhatever you want, angel.â Eddie whispers against your lips, kissing you with more certainty as your hands slide over the leather covering his chest.
His lips trail from your mouth to the stretch of your jawline, leaving warm kisses against your soft skin until the lace of your corset brushes against his chin. Your head tilts back slightly, eyebrows furrowed as you stare at the ceiling, pulse hammering through your body at his touch.
The way you whisper his name makes him shudder, feeling the heat of the moment rush straight to his cock. âIn here? You sure?â He asked, pulling back just enough to look at you, eyes searching your face for any hesitation as his hands snaked around your back.
You nodded briefly, leaning closer just enough to press your lips against his jawline. âIâm sure,â You whispered against his skin, hands pushing off the leather jacket covering his shoulders. âRight here, I donât care about the others. I just need you.â
His eyes widened for a moment before a smirk spread across his face, fingers wrapping around the silk ribbon that kept your corset tied. âYeah, sweetheart?â Eddie raised an eyebrow, one hand wrapped around your waist as he guided you in front of the mirror.
Eddie stood behind you, hands trailing along the structure of your corset, watching as your pupils dilated from the reflection of the mirror. âCan I take this off, angel?â He asked, fingers looping around the silk ribbons keeping the corset laced together.
You looked at Eddie through the reflection of the mirror, his eyes darkened by something similar to lust. You nodded lightly, swiping your hair over your shoulders to reveal the ribbon work along the spine of the corset. âYou can take it off, Eddie.â You said, voice carrying a breathless plea.
His fingers slowly work at the silk ribbons, feeling himself shuddering at the cold material against his skin, something to ease the reverent heat blistering through him. The spine of the corset carefully undid itself as the ribbons came apart, revealing the soft skin of your back. Eddie looked up in the mirror, noticing how your hands pressed against the chest of the corset, keeping it from revealing your bare breast.
âDonât hide from me, sweetheart.â Eddie whispered, his voice carrying a low raspy that made you whimper in his response. âLet me see how beautiful you are, please.â He pleaded, his warm breath trickled across your shoulder blades as he pressed soft kisses against your skin, humming in satisfaction whenever your back arched.
You exhaled shakily, eyes closing for a brief second at the warm sensation of his lips against your skin, addicted to the way his fingers curled around your bare waist as he held you close. The corset slowly lifted itself from your chest as you removed your hands, allowing the black fabric to slip off your body.
His eyes darkened as the corset gathered on the floor, inhaling sharply as the warm light laid flawlessly over your skin. âThere she is,â Eddie whispered huskily, allowing his hands to glide across the delicate curve of your waist, the cold metal of his rings igniting your body with a blistering desire for closeness. âLook at you, angel. Absolutely gorgeous, fucking breathtaking.â He complimented, voice dripping with allure.
Eddieâs hands glided along your skin, soaking up the pulsing warmth that radiated off you, memorizing how your goosebump-covered skin felt beneath his fingertips. His hand reached around your stomach, laying possessively over your abdomen as the other trailed toward the stretch of your neck. âLook at yourself, sweet girl.â He whispered in your ear as his palm rested over your throat. âYou look like you were made for me.â
You whined softly, feeling his fingers pushing against the pulse points of your neck, the pressure making your mind dizzy with hormones. You lazily tried to glance at him, eyes dusted over with lust as your chest continued to rise heavily, practically begging him for more. âPlease, god, I canât take it anymore.â Your voice sounded airy with desperation, hips subconsciously rolling against him for friction.
His hand tightened around your throat, inhaling sharply at the feeling of your ass pressing against his aching bulge, cock straining against the denim jeans he wore. âYeah? You want more, sweetheart?â Eddie asked quietly, voice trickling down your spine with that sultry tone as his hand slowly trailed down your body, fingertips dipping beneath the waistband of your lower garments.
Eddie chuckled as you eagerly nodded, wiggling your hips gently as he tugged down the lace underwear. You carefully stepped out of the fabric, leaving you in nothing but the stockings and garters that wrapped around your plush thighs, the mouth-watering sight making him groan lowly in appreciation. His hand found your waist, guiding your body to face forward, pulling your attention away from the mirror as he lowered himself onto the ground.
âPlace your leg on my shoulder, sweetheart.â He instructed, calloused palm reaching for your thigh, giving you an encouraging nod before lifting your leg upwards, revealing the sweetness buried between your thighs. âLean against the desk, if you need to. Want you just like this.â He mumbled huskily, lips pressing soft kisses against your clothed ankle, trailing along your calf before reaching your inner thigh.
Your fingers tangled between the strands of his messy hair, gently tugging his face forward as his nose brushed against your clit, the friction sending ripples of pleasure through your body. Eddie hummed at the subtle eagerness, tongue swiping across the wetness of your folds, licking up the honeyed taste of your arousal as it left his chin glistening.
âFuck, baby. You taste so good.â He mumbled, eyes half-lidded, completely drunk of the taste of your cunt seeping onto his tongue. His hands trailed along your body, gripping the plush curve of your ass, pushing your body closer until your leg wrapped around his neck, letting his hands rest along your waist to keep you steady.
His tongue lapped across your puffy cunt, curling slightly to gather the sticky liquid that seeped from your body, groaning in satisfaction at the feeling of your thighs trembling around his face. Your body was pressed against the desk, fingers roughly gripping at his hair, while the other hand tightly held onto the edge of the table behind you. The sound of delicate moans slipped past the part between your lips, tongue rolling over the dryness as you looked down at Eddie, his eyes darkened with lust and hunger as he continued to devour you.
His cock practically ached against his jeans at the sound of your honeyed moans, feeling pre-cum spilling onto his boxers at the incoherent mumbles that left your mouth as his tongue flattened against your clit, applying sudden pressure to the sensitive bud. The sound of squelching wetness filled the dressing-room, echoing off the walls as the point of his tongue pressed into your hole, leaving your body squirming against his grasp.
Eddie groaned heavily, forcing himself away from your cunt, chin glistening with arousal. âUp on the table for me, sweetheart.â He instructed, giving your waist a gentle squeeze before pulling away, watching yourself hoist yourself onto the desk. His hands reached for your thighs, spreading them apart and draping them over his shoulders, leaving your cunt exposed.
He looked up at you, eyes darkened with that predatory gaze, watching your expression furrow as he sucked on his fingers, coating them with his saliva before swiping them between your folds. Eddie slowly pushed his fingers inside you, feeling the warmth of your cunt fluttering around him, exhaling heavily at the sound of your wispy moans.
Your head tilted backward, leaning against the mirror as your eyes fluttered shut at the sensation of his fingers pushing inside you, curling against the sensation spot that made arousal gush onto his hand. You moaned loudly, the music from the current performance keeping the sinful noises wrapped in the privacy of your dressing-room as he continued to push his fingers into your seeping cunt.
Eddie groaned lowly, a lazy smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, completely enamored with the dazed expression that melted over your face as the pleasure of his fingers rippled through your body. He moved forward, tongue lapping around your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud as a clear liquid squirted onto his hand, squelching noises filling the room as he moved his fingers faster.
âOh, fuck, sweetheart. Look at you, making such a mess already.â He murmured, voice muffled against your skin as he pulled away, playfully nipping at your thigh, leaving bite marks across the supple skin as if he were claiming you entirely.
You felt a surge of embarrassment blistering against your skin as the pressure tightened in your abdomen, adding to the mess that left his fingers coated with your slick. You shifted slightly, glancing down at Eddie, strands of hair clinging to his forehead as he looked up at you, smirking against your thigh before his tongue swiped over your clit.
He groaned loudly, eyes practically rolling backwards as his lips reattached to your cunt, the overly sweetened taste melting across his tongue as your thighs trembled around him. His tongue sloppily glided across your folds, pushing his fingers with the same rhythm as his tongue, feeling your cunt fluttering around his fingers, hinting at the overwhelming pleasure that bubbled in your core.
His hand glided across your thighs, forcefully spreading them apart, fingertips gently digging into the soft skin. âKeep âem open, angel. Just let it out, make a mess for me.â Eddie said, voice sounding muffled from his position between your legs, letting his grip tighten as he held you firmly against the vanity.
Eddie completely ignored the way your thighs trembled and ached to squeeze shut. âCâmon, sweetheart. Stop holding back, show me how good it feels.â He hummed, staring up at you with a darkened gaze as his fingers curled slightly, repeatedly pushing against the sensitive hilt buried inside you.
You moaned loudly, a blissful wave washing through your senses as your orgasm racked through your body, leaving your jaw slack as spews of incoherent noises spilled through. Your back arched away from the vanity mirror, thighs trembling around his face as the creamy substance of your release coated his fingers.
Eddie watched closely, eyes trailing over the sight of your convulsing body, arousal leaving his chin drenched and glistening. âGood girl, baby. Such a messy little thing.â He said, voice laced with intimacy as he slowly pulled out his fingers.
A sweet whine slipped through your parted lips, laced with disappointment from the sudden lack of warmth. You looked down at Eddie, expression still painted with haziness as you slowly came down from the orgasm, barely processing the movement as he lifted himself from the kneeling position between your legs.
âOpen your mouth for me, sweetheart.â Eddie instructed gently, tapping his cum-coated fingers against your lips.
Without hesitation, you opened your mouth, moaning softly as his fingers pressed down on your tongue, the taste of your release filtering through your tastebuds. You glanced up at him, eyes covered in a lustful haze, tongue swirling around his fingers, savoring the taste on his skin.
Eddie inhaled sharply at the sight in front of him, feeling his cock against his jeans as your tongue glided across his fingertips. âFuck, youâre something else, sweetheart.â He muttered quietly, pulling out his fingers with a subtle pop. âBend over the desk for me.â He whispered, hands reaching for your waist as he lifted you off the tabletop.
Just as instructed, you shifted positions, nerves bubbling beneath your skin as you stared at your reflection in the mirror, catching his admiring expression as his hands glided across your waist before gently pressing your forward until your back arched naturally. The cold surface of the vanity pressed against your bare chest, stifling a quiet gasp, mixed with surprise and anticipation as the sound of his zipper caught your ears.
You glanced into the mirror, watching as he tugged down his jeans, the heaviness of his cock slapping against the lower skin of his stomach as he pushed down his boxers. Eddie stepped behind you, his hand gliding across the stretch of your back, gently nudging your legs further apart with his feet, lifting one of your legs, and placing it on the edge of the vanity.
âJust like that, sweetheart, look so beautiful like this.â He hummed in approval, hand kneading the soft flesh of your ass before spreading you further, cock sliding along the stickiness of your folds.
Eddie choked back a hiss of pleasure, expression sneering slightly as his cock twitched against your pussy, practically aching to be wrapped around the sweet warmth that oozed from your cunt. âYouâre perfect, angel. So fucking warm and sweet for me.â He praised, tone dripping with intimacy as he slowly pressed the head of his cock inside you.
The stretch of his cock sent your jaw hanging slack, staring at the reflection in the mirror as his hand reached for your lifted thigh, holding you firmly in place as his cock bottomed out inside you, pulsing against the tightness of your cunt sucking him in. You inhaled shakily, fingertips clawing at the edge of the vanity, gripping onto nothing as the fullness of his cock pressed against the sweetened hilt buried inside you.
Eddie reached around with his other hand, gently wrapping it around your throat, forcing your attention onto the mirror as his thumb tauntingly pressed against your pulse point. âKeep those eyes on the mirror, sweetheart.â He hummed, slowly moving his hips forward, dragging his cock along the warmth of your pussy.
âYouâre taking my cock so well, baby. You were made for me, werenât you?â He praised, leaning down slightly as he pressed sloppy kisses along your bare shoulder. âMade to be my little performer, splayed out just like this for me.â
âFuck, Eddie. Feels so good.â You moaned sweetly at the praise, feeling your cunt fluttering around his cock as his fingers pushed deeper against your pulse points, excitement flaring through your chest.
The thick tension bubbled in your stomach as his hips gradually picked up pace, the sound of squelching echoing throughout the dressing-room as your cunt clenched around him, arousal leaving a creamy substance around the base of his cock. Your head tilted forward, forehead pressing against the slightly fogged mirror, breath ghosting across the glass with each heavy breath.
Eddie straightened, hand slipping from around your throat, burying his fingers between the strands of your hair, gently tugging you back up as he watched your head dip forward. âCâmon, sweetheart. Keep those pretty eyes forward, I want you to watch, baby.â He said through a groan of pleasure, his other hand gripping the plush skin of your thigh before landing a gentle smack that made your ass jiggle.
You whined loudly, lips parted with incoherent mumbles as his handprint flourished across your skin, lingering with a blistering warmth. Your eyes stared into the mirror, watching as his teeth sank into his bottom lip, feeling your stomach coil at the sight of him. âMmph! Fuck, âs too much.â You moaned in pleasure, hips subconsciously moving back against his thrust, eagerly rubbing against the pressure of release rapidly building.
His hand tightened around the strands of your hair, groaning loudly in pleasure at the feeling of your pussy clenching around him as your hips pushed back against him. âItâs okay, sweetheart. Iâm here, I gotcha, let it out, baby.â He said with that raspy tone, thrust slowing into that deep and sensual pace, leaving your body trembling beneath him.
The sweet raspiness of his voice sent the fuzziness in your abdomen snapping, the thick wave of pressure rippling through your body as your pussy tightened around his cock, release slicking up his cock as you trembled beneath him, fingers gripping the edge of the vanity while incoherent moans of pleasure spilled over your lips.
Eddie watched with a close eye, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as you came undone around his cock, thrust still slowly pushing into you with sensual movements, softly fucking you through the intense orgasm. âThatâs it, sweet girl. Take a little more for me?â He pressed, looking at your reflection in the mirror with an intimate gaze, almost pussy-drunk on the way you felt around him.
You nodded lightly at his question, body trembling against the tabletop, still sucking his cock in for more, the intimacy of his touch leaving you addicted, desperately clinging onto the pleasure. His hand dropped from your hair, letting your head dip forward slightly as he reached for your waist, carefully readjusting the position until you were facing forward, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as his cock pushed inside you.
His hand reached for your waist, thumb brushing across your blistering skin, slowly moving his hips forward, the sound of his heavy breathing mixing into your soft moans, skin glistening across your bodies as he leaned forward. âGod, you look beautiful like this, sweetheart.â Eddie complimented, brushing the curled strands of hair away from your face, staring at the post-orgasm glow that stretched across your face.
âAn absolute angel dressed in sin.â He whispered lowly, palm tenderly resting against your jawline, tilting your face towards him as his lips pressed against yours, swallowing the sweet moans that melted past your tongue.
You smiled into the kiss at his words, thighs tightening around his waist, drawing him closer as your arms draped across his shoulders. âAnd what does that make you?â You whispered against his lips, tantalizingly leaving kisses down his collarbone, listening to the breathless sound of his chuckle. âA worshipper draped in chains.â You added, briefly looking up at him with eyes darkened with intimacy, tongue swiping across your lips with that smile.
Eddieâs expression shifted, lustful amusement glimmering beneath his eyes, cock pulsating with the ache for release, stomach coiling with pressure at the sudden switch in your words. His hand slipped beneath the length of your hair, firmly, but gently holding the back of your neck. âIâd worship you day and night, sweetheart.â He whispered, tilting your head and revealing the stretch of your neck, lips brushing against the sensitive spot as he inhaled the pheromones pouring off your skin.
You whimpered sweetly at the feeling of his teeth sinking into your skin, subtle claims blistering across your neck, overwhelming heat blistering throughout your body. âFuck, please. I need that, I need you.â You replied shakily, mind slipping into that haze of pleasure, fingers clawing at his shoulder blades as the tension bubbled in your abdomen, becoming drunk on the sensuality of his words while his cock pressed against the sensitive hilt buried inside you.
Eddieâs body jerked at the sharpness of your nails, hissing at the pleasurable pain of your fingers dragging across his back. His fingers pressed against the side of your throat, pulling away from the crook of your neck, staring at the fucked-out expression pulling at your face. âYeah, sweetheart? Iâm here, not leaving, gonna give you everything you want.â He muttered through his tightened jaw, cock twitching against your cunt, desperately aching for release.
You nodded weakly, body pressing against his chest as your fingers pushed beneath the messy strands of hair, gently tugging his head backwards. âMhm, a-ah, fuck. Feels so good, think âm gonna cum.â You moaned senselessly, desperately clinging onto him as the slow sway of his hips gradually picked up, repeatedly pushing against that sweetened hilt.
His hand dropped from around your neck, tightening around your waist, firmly holding you against the vanity as his hips sloppily thrusted inside you, pushing your body over the edge as the pressure snapped, leaving your cunt fluttering around him. âLet it out, angel. I gotcha, baby.â Eddie muttered in pleasure, guiding you through the orgasm as his own release stirred through him.
The pressure coiled in your abdomen, moaning loudly in pleasure as he continuously thrust into you with desperate motions, the intensity of your orgasm whipping through your body, leaving his cock coated in your release. âOh, god, Eddie. Right there, right there.â You babbled, needily clinging onto the pleasure as your body trembled with aftershocks.
Eddie glanced down at you, head still angled from the tightening around his hair, eyes brightening with something similar to worship as he watched you come apart around him, thumb soothingly brushing against the curve of your waist. âJust a little more, please, baby. Just a little bit more, promise.â He whispered repeatedly, voice carrying that raspy shakiness as he bottomed out inside, hips stuttering while his cock twitched against your cunt. âFuck, sweetheart. Donât move, donât move.â He babbled, thick ropes of cum spilling inside you, leaving his chest heavily rising with each heavy breath.
You exhaled heavily, chest stuttering with each breath of air you pulled in, body trembling around him as your hands weakly dropped from his hair, lazily resting against his shoulders. Eddie pulled back slightly, noticing that dazed look in your expression, gently brushing the hair away from your forehead. âCâmere, sweetheart.â He whispered, pulling you closer, hand resting against the back of your head, letting you press your head against his shoulder as the two of you steadily came down from the lingering intensity.
His arm wrapped around you, holding you securely against his chest as his fingertips traced idle patterns along your spine. âYouâre okay, Iâm here.â He spoke softly, pressing a tender kiss against the top of your head, smiling tiredly at the tiny exhales spilling across your lips. âLetâs get you cleaned up.â He added, trying to catch a glimpse of your face, noticing the half-lidded exhaustion in your eyes.
Eddie carefully untangled your bodies, slowly pulling out his half-hard cock, whispering soft praises at the tiny whimpers that slipped past your lips at the loss of warmth. âI know, baby. You did so good, an absolute angel for me.â He spoke quietly, wiping down the mess between your legs with the cloth he found in your vanity, before grabbing the duffle bag you pointed at, helping you dress into fresh, comfortable clothes.
âThanks.â You mumbled tiredly, holding onto his shoulder as he helped pull the pair of lounge pants over your legs.
When he finished helping you change, the two of you stood there for a moment, loosely holding onto each other, before he twisted the rings on his fingers, pulling off one of the silver ones with a red gemstone. âSo you donât forget when you leave.â He said, carefully tucking the ring into the palm of your hand.
You looked down at the ring, smiling lightly as you wrapped your hand around it, looking back up at Eddie with a sweetened, yet amused expression. âWhy donât you drive me home?â
a/n: i love this but i donât, but i really do at the same time. itâs been so long since ive wrote a good detailed smut </3 . i stayed up literally all night writing this so i do apologize if its choppy and has some errors :â)
