Backstage.pdf

oOo

I watched him as he played, mesmerized by the movements of his body. The way his full

lips moved as he sang, the quick swipe of his tongue every few words. The way his

Adam's apple would bob with every swallow or tense with the drawn out notes. The

movements of his shoulders as he strummed, the tense and release of the tendons on

his forearms, his fingers on the strings... stroking, strumming, plucking.

Those fingers. Those beautiful, agile fingers. Long and slender, mobile and strong.

Fucking christ I want those fingers on me. In me.

I felt my body heat as I continued to watch him. I could barely even make out the music

at this point, so entranced was I in the movements that created it. The blood rushed

through my veins, pounding in my ears; my heart beating a fast and furious tempo that

was at odds with his smooth and sultry beat.

He looked up at me, caught my eye through the crowd and smirked. Every muscle in my

body tightened at the sight, at what I knew it meant. His mocking glance told me he

knew all about my blatant eye fucking, could read my body's signals, and knew exactly

what he was doing to me. His tongue's deliberate swipe of his bottom lip and the excited

light in his verdant eyes told me he planned on making good on his teasing. He shifted a

bit on his stool and brought his guitar to rest more fully on his lap. He ran his hand

through his sweat-dampened hair, the reddish strands nearly standing on end as he blew

out a long breath and bent to his strings once more.

It was my turn to smirk and raise an eyebrow.

I wasn't the only one getting worked up in this overheated room. I could feel the

dampness on my skin, the body heat surrounding me causing my curls to stick to my

face. I watched as a bead of sweat collected at his temple and dripped down the side of

his face to his neck, running over his collarbone before disappearing beneath the collar

of his shirt.

I longed to follow its trail with my tongue. Taste the salty sweet of his skin. Feel the

supple flex of lean muscle and twisting of limbs beneath my hands.

He wrapped up his set and I disappeared backstage to wait for him.

I let myself into his dressing room, leaning against the mirrored counter as I waited for

him. He entered a few moments later, sweaty and red faced. Our eyes immediately

locked, the charge arcing between us as it always did; a pulsing throbbing beat in time

with the blood in our veins. He set his guitar down slowly and walked toward me, his

stride measured and deliberate. When he came within arm's reach I shot my hand out,

fisting it in his shirt and dragged him the remaining distance until his body was flush

with mine.

He gave a surprised moan before fusing his mouth with mine, swallowing my answering

growl. His mouth was salty with the sweat he'd licked from his lips, the ocean flavor

hovering just above the cinnamon sweet that was Edward.

My hands were in his hair, tangled and tugging him closer. I wanted to devour him. Eat

him in big greedy bites. I wanted his taste in my mouth, his skin against my skin, inside

me, around me, fused with mine.

I dropped to my knees before him, yanking his buttoned fly open and looking up at him

when I saw that he was naked beneath the rough fabric of his jeans.

"Jesus, Edward," I murmured as I extricated his length from his pants.

I let his pants fall to his feet as I palmed his cock, hot and smooth and pulsing in my fist.

Leaning forward, I liked his head, slick with the flavor of his want.

"Baby," he groaned, his hands coming to rest in my hair.

I licked down his shaft, circling the base with my tongue before dragging it up his length

and engulfing his head completely in my mouth. He moaned as I took more and more of

him, swirling my tongue over his throbbing flesh and moaning at the taste and feel of

him in my mouth.

I glanced up at him, noting his focus was on something straight ahead, so unlike the way

he usually fixated on his cock moving in and out of my mouth, my lips stretched tight

around him. He glanced down at me then, feeling my eyes on him I was sure, and

smirked.

He pushed on my shoulder gently to get me to release him.

"What?" I asked, thoroughly fucking confused. He just scooted me over so I was

perpendicular to him before reorienting himself before me, palming the back of my head

and urging me to take him in once more.

"Ahhh," he groaned. "Baby, look." He gestured to the right of him. I glanced beside me

and became transfixed with the sight of us in the mirror. His hard cock, slick and veined

as it pumped in and out my mouth, my lips stretched around him, his hands in my hair.

"Mmm," I moaned around him, feeling myself leaking onto my underwear, my entire

body tensed and hot at the sight.

"Fuck, that mouth. Such a pretty fucking mouth," Edward muttered above me, his eyes

on the mirror, his hands in my hair guiding my movements. "So hot and wet, baby. And

your tongue working my dick, so good. So good," he moaned as I took him deeper, took

everything, the back of his head hitting my throat. "Yes, baby. Fuck yes, you take

everything, everything I give you."

I released him from my mouth suddenly, with a loud popping sound. His head swiveled

back to meet my eyes.

"What the fuck, I was so close," he whined.

"I want you to fuck me now," I growled, my need for him overwhelming me.

He pulled me up by my hair, attacking my mouth and groaning when he tasted himself

on my tongue. He yanked my shirt over my head, shoved my pants and underwear to

my feet before backing me into the counter. He spun me around, my back to his front

and bit my shoulder roughly, his eyes burning into mine in the mirror before he backed

up and surveyed the sight before him.

"Such a pretty ass," he mused before catching my eye in the mirror. "I'm gonna fuck

that pretty ass so hard."

"Please," I whimpered at his words, my entire body clenching and aching with

anticipation.

He fumbled around in his pants, taking a condom and lube from his pocket. "Such a boy

scout," I teased.

"I just know you always want to fuck after a show," he grinned. "Thought I'd actually be

prepared to give it up right away for once."

He moved toward me again, positioning himself against me as one hand gripped my hip

and the other wrapped around me to stroke me. He fingers were strong and sure on my

flesh, I could feel myself pulsing under the pressure of his fingertips.

I felt him pressing a slick finger into me, pumping in and out in time with his other

hand's strokes. He added another and I groaned at the sensation of fullness. He

removed his fingers slowly, pressing his length against me. The burn of skin stretching

to accommodate him was a familiar sensation that served only to heighten the pleasure.

He moved slowly, inch by inch until he was finally filling me fully.

"God, Edward," I moaned. His grip tightened on my hip, his mouth coming down to suck

at the skin of my shoulder and neck.

He began to move in me, his strokes in and out of me in time with his fingers on my

skin, pushing and pressing. I felt as though he encompassed my entire body; his chest

pressed to my back, his mouth on my neck, inside me, around me. I looked up, caught

sight of us in the mirror. His eyes closed, his face twisted with pleasure as he thrust and

stroked and bit and sucked.

I could feel my release build, every muscle in my body tensing and stretching; seeking

the pleasure they knew was on the brink of exploding throughout my body. I lifted a

hand, yanking on his hair, fusing my mouth to his as I pushed back on his thrusting

hips, pulling him deeper, harder. He groaned into my mouth, increasing his pace.

"Fuck, baby," I moaned. "I'm gonna come so hard, don't stop. Please don't stop," I

moaned, I begged, I babbled as the white hot heat stole through my limbs, blinding me.

"Fuck yes," he growled. "Come for me baby, I want to feel you come in my hand."

I moaned and writhed and pushed against him, whimpering desperately until my entire

body seized and I spilled myself into his hand.

"Oh god, oh god," Edward moaned behind me, burying his face in my shoulder. "Jasper,

baby..." he trailed off in a guttural groan as he swelled and spilled inside me.

We lay bent over the counter, paralyzed and panting, waiting for the blood to return to

our limbs. He wrapped his warm arms around my heaving chest, pulling me upright and

then moving me so I faced him. I burrowed my face into his shoulder, my arms winding

around his waist. Our softening and sensitive flesh brushed as we held one another, and

we laughed as we shivered at the sensation.

Edward placed a soft kiss on my mouth. "Come on, baby. Let's get dressed and go

home. I need a shower."

I smacked his ass gently. "Yes you do. And now, so do I."

He stepped back, eyeing me appraisingly. "But I like you dirty, Jasper."

"Yeah, but you like cleaning me up just as much."

He nodded, one corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk. "Touche. Maybe I'll give you a

tongue bath."

Guh...

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