Secret Confessions: Backstage – Yanis

by Lexxie Couper

  Distractions were a waste of his time and energy.

  He had a job to do, and that job was to elevate The Screaming Tuesdays to the pinnacle of rock star status. To make them gods among their fellow musicians.

  That was his job.

  Not making Carson orgasm.

  Drawing a slow breath, the scent of her pleasure mocking the steel in his cock, Yanis stepped backward.

  Away from the perfection of her arse and the beauty of her pussy.

  “I have to go.”

  The words left him as a low growl.

  Carson twisted on her desk. “You what?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he met her incredulous stare, buttoned his jacket and turned on his heel.

  Strode across her office and unlocked her door.

  “Yanis?”

  Confusion cut the disbelief in Carson’s voice.

  He stopped—fingers wrapped around the doorknob. His pulse throbbed, his head roared. The urge to return to her, to cup her face in his palms and capture her lips with his, smashed through him. His body ached to do so. His brain…

  Turn around.

  Turn around. Go back to her. Not just to fuck her, but to just be with her.

  Go back to her. Now.

  Barely looking over his shoulder, he tightened his grip on the doorknob and twisted. “I expect the security report for the shopping centre appearance in my inbox before midnight, Ms Swift.”

  And with that, he pulled the door opened, stepped into the dark antechamber beyond and left.

  ***

  Carson stared at the closed door, unable to move.

  What the fuck had just happened?

  What. The Fuck. Had Just. Happened?

  A chill rippled over her flesh. Insane butterflies swirled in her tummy before sinking to a heavy weight.

  Her body ached, anticipating an assault of intense pleasure that never came.

  Her mind?

  Her mind reeled.

  She blinked.

  The door stayed closed.

  Yanis Drakos did not storm through it. Did not grin with that crinkly-eyed mirth that disarmed her so and say he was kidding.

  Nor did he reappear and smile at her with smug triumph.

  Either would have been preferable to the icy rejection gnawing at her now.

  He’d made her come twice, and left? What kind of…of…bastard did that?

  Stomach churning, Carson pushed herself from her desk. Oh God, she’d have to get a new one. She’d never be able to look at it again without being reminded of this humiliation.

  Knees shaky, she ran her fingers through her hair. Stared around her empty office. And finally moved.

  Snatching up her clothes, she yanked them on: first her skirt and then her bra and shirt. She couldn’t look at her torn thong, couldn’t bring herself to pick it up.

  At some point, she’d have to. There was no way she was letting her office cleaner arrive the next morning to find the remnants of her Victoria’s Secret on the floor, but not yet.

  Not until she processed what had just happened.

  What Yanis Drakos had done to her.

  What she’d let him do to her.

  Pleasure her. Make her come twice. Make her laugh during the most intense sexual experience of her life. Make her beg for more.

  Make her want everything he was.

  Destroy her barriers.

  A raw sob ripped at her chest and she collapsed against the edge of her desk. “How could I be so stupid?” she whispered, her blank gaze skipping around the room, as if seeking the answer. “How could I have let that happen?”

  You lost control, Carson. You let Drakos take it from you.

  Dark anger shot through her at the thought. Hot, dark anger. She ground her teeth, sliding her stare to the closed door.

  She had let Drakos take control from her. In the entire time they’d known each other, theirs had been a battle for control of The Tuesdays’ comings and goings while in the US. She and Yanis had clashed, and neither had come out the victor. Until now.

  She’d let Yanis take the control of her pleasure from her.

  Fuck that. She was going to take it back.

  Shoving herself from her desk, she crossed to her office door.

  Her bare feet sank in the plush carpet, reminding her with a perverse irony that the bastard had stripped her of everything but her stockings.

  Fuck that as well. It was time to show him that regardless of the fact he’d tongue-fucked her out of her shoes, she was controlling this moment.

  Not him.

  Jaw clenched, pulse rapid, cheeks flushed with feverish anticipation, Carson yanked open her office door and stormed through it.

  There was no sign of Yanis.

  Why would there be?

  “Bastard,” she grumbled, scanning the dark foyer beyond the glass doors of her office’s antechamber.

  A muted white light glowed on the other side of the foyer, almost indistinct in the darkness. The elevator light.

  The butterflies previously heavy with rejection in Carson’s belly fluttered into life again. He was in the elevator. Going down.

  Beat him.

  Carson ran for the stairs. Sprinted for them. A soft ripping sound told her the split in her skirt had torn a second before the restricting pressure around her thighs relaxed and her gait lengthened.

  She didn’t slow down to survey the damage.

  Slamming against the stairwell door, she burst into the cold, musty-smelling cavity, squinted at the stark white light flooding it, and headed down.

  Fast.

  Four flights later, descending the stairs two at a time, she charged into the ground floor foyer of her office’s building. Pulse pounding in her ears, she fixed her stare on the elevators.

  The Down arrow glowed.

  Without slowing, Carson crossed to directly in front of the closed door. Glared at it, chest heaving, heart a sledgehammer in her chest. A part of her wanted to believe it was due to her unplanned cardio workout, a rational part not indignant at Yanis’s manipulation of her sexual desire. The rest of her mind—and her body—knew otherwise. Her pussy was already throbbing with eager anticipation. Her clit already tingled with hungry impatience.

  When a soft chime sounded in the stillness of the foyer, Carson drew in a sharp breath and let her lips curl.

  “Showtime, Drakos,” she murmured.

  His gaze found hers before the door finished opening. Nostrils flaring, he studied her, remaining motionless inside the small elevator space. The warm, muted light did nothing to lessen the pinning intensity of his dark stare, nor did it hide the tension radiating from him.

  Carson jutted her hip and raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t peg you as someone who’d run from something that scares them?”

  The accusation took her by surprise. She hadn’t planned to say that. Truth be known, she hadn’t planned anything except startling him with her presence. Based on the hungry desire smouldering in Yanis’s eyes, shock was not the emotion she’d awoken in him.

  “I’m not scared,” he answered, his voice a deep rumble.

  Carson narrowed her eyes. “What are you then? What kind of man does what you did up in my office?”

  He raked her with a slow inspection. Carson couldn’t miss the way his jaw knotted, nor the way his Adam’s apple jerked up and down the smooth brown column of his throat, nor the messy tangle of his hair. It looked like fingers had worried it, tugged at it since he’d left her office.

  He’s not as in control as you think he is. He’s—

  “You distract me, Ms Swift.”

  The blunt statement left him on a strained growl. She drew in a slow breath, a thick ribbon of wanton delight unfurling through her at his unexpected confession. Her belly tightened. So did her nipples and throat.

  With a clunk, the door began to close. She moved to stop it, but Yanis beat her to it, his stare locked on her face. “I don’t do distractions,” he finished, his voice now a low murmur.
>
  Heart hammering behind her breast, Carson closed the small distance between them. Close enough to feel the heat from his body and to breathe in the subtle scent of his cologne. “Drakos, I haven’t even begun to distract you.”

  His Adam’s apple jerked up and down in his throat again. His nostrils flared once more. “I should be concentrating on the tour, Carson,” he answered. “Not how much I want to fuck your brains out.”

  The crudity of his words and the desire ablaze in his eyes detonated a liquid pulse in Carson’s sex. “How ‘bout,”—she said, mouth dry, pussy moist— “we fuck each other out of our systems?” She let her lips stretch into a slow smile. “So we can both get back to—”

  He snaked an arm around her waist and hauled her to his hard body before she could finish. Crushed her lips with his. Plundered her mouth with his tongue.

  She surrendered to the ravenous, dominating assault for a heartbeat. And then, with a low chuckle, flattened her palms to his chest and shoved him back deeper into the elevator.

  The door closed behind her by the time she joined him at the wall. By the time she had his shirt torn open, he had hers equally asunder.

  With another chuckle, she snared his wrists and yanked his hands away from her chest. “Uh-uh.” She shook her head, revelling in the way he strained against her hold—he could break her grip without any effort at all. She knew that as much as he did, but he let her control the moment, control him. “Not until I say so.”

  A muscle in his jaw bunched. His pupils dilated. Raw hunger filled his face.

  Wordlessly, he nodded. One single dip of his head.

  Carson’s pussy flooded with moisture at his surrender.

  Releasing his wrists, she returned her hands to his now exposed chest. It was hard and sculpted and bronzed, just as she imagined it would be. A fine smattering of dark hair travelled the broad expanse. She trailed her fingertips over the silken hairs, watching anticipation and pleasure blaze in Yanis’s eyes.

  The sight sent a hot lick of potent delight through her. Holding his gaze, she smoothed her hands lower.

  His stomach hitched as she explored the exquisite lines of his abs, his chest heaving with a ragged breath as she ventured lower still.

  Her fingers encountered the waistband of his trousers, a barrier to what she sought and without hesitation she released his belt and tugged down his zipper.

  “Damn, Drakos,” she marvelled, her pulse quickening and her sex throbbing as the thick pole of his jutting erection strained against his boxers. “You’re seriously hung.”

  Before he could respond to the awed compliment, she slid her fingers past the loose fabric of his pants and boxers and shoved them down his hips.

  A choppy groan lifted her stare to his face. He watched her, nostrils flaring, jaw bunched. She could see the war within him, the battle to relinquish control to her. Once again, the fact he did not render her his sexual slave—and he could, she was that turned on by him—flooded her with a craving she’d never experienced before.

  Body aching, she reached out and traced one finger up the underside of his engorged cock, from its root to its pre-come-anointed tip. “I’m going to suck you to the brink of coming, Yanis. I’m going to fuck your ass with my finger and suck this fine specimen of a dick until you beg me to let you come.”

  “And then?”

  She smiled at the strangled pleasure in his question, even as her body thrummed with impatient want. “And then I’ll let you bury yourself to the hilt in my cunt until we both scream with pleasure.”

  “Carson.” His eyes closed for a moment. “Words cannot describe how fucking hot your filthy mouth makes me.”

  She chuckled, and then wrapped her fingers completely around his venous girth.

  “Ah, yeah…” He groaned, rolling his hips forward as he drove his shoulders hard to the elevator wall. “Yeah.”

  She pumped his erection, dragging her thumb over the tiny slit at its tip on every stroke. He groaned each time she did so, thrusting his hips to her with obvious need.

  When his breath turned to shallow pants, when his face etched with pained pleasure, Carson dropped to her knees and took his length in her mouth.

  “Fuck yes,” he roared, driving his cock deeper past her lips.

  She took him fully into her mouth, the heavy thickness of his arousal on her tongue, against her molars, detonating fresh lust within her. She gorged herself on Yanis’s flesh, her hunger for his cock unchecked. He moaned his approval, pumping into her mouth with a rhythm perfectly matched to hers.

  “Jesus, Carson…” he panted above her head, balling a fist in her hair. “Your mouth is…your mouth is incredible.”

  Humming her appreciation, she circled the base of his erection with a tight grip and flicked her tongue at his tip.

  A shudder rocked through him, powerful enough for Carson to feel it in her hand. He was close.

  “You have no idea,” she replied, grinning up at him from the tip of his dick before plunging her mouth down its length again.

  He let out a shaky groan, and another when she cupped his balls in one hand and squeezed his ass cheek with the other.

  His backside was as toned and perfect as she knew it would be. The feel of it against her palm made her head swim and her pussy contract. So good. His cock…in her mouth, her hands…on his flesh…all so good.

  “I don’t…” The hand in her hair snagged tighter on the strands. “Much longer…”

  Skimming her hand over his butt, she slipped her fingers into the crevice of his cheeks and pressed her finger to his anus.

  “Fuck!” He bucked, a violent spasm. In her mouth, his cock jerked. The salty sweetness of pre-come slicked her tongue.

  She sucked on him harder, massaging the puckered hole of his ass with greater pressure.

  “Oh God, Carson…” Her name turned into a ground-out breath. He slammed his hips forward again, widening his stance to grant her greater access to his hole.

  She took it, wriggling her index finger against the tight seal of his anus until his flesh parted and she dipped into his constricting heat.

  Yanis groaned her name. Raked at her hair. Slammed into her mouth over and over.

  The wild savagery of his thrusts set fire to Carson’s hunger and she sank her finger deeper into his back passage, seeking out his prostate.

  His knees shook, nudging against her. His fingers tangled in her hair some more. “Carson…” he ground out, holding her head hard to his cock. “Oh fuck, Carson…I’m going to…”

  Fighting against the greedy desire to taste his pleasure, to milk him of his release with her mouth, Carson sucked her lips free of his cock.

  He swore, words like oh god and don’t stop and please more joining the profanity bursting from him. Wanton need crashed through Carson on every syllable and she rose to her feet, pressing her body to his as she did so, raising her right knee high beside his ribcage.

  Her skirt rose up her thigh with the action, bunching near her hip. He took advantage of her position, grabbing her ass and hauling her sex to his jutting cock.

  Hot flesh rubbed hot flesh and Carson bit back a groan. “I want you inside me, Yanis,” she confessed, searching his eyes.

  Raw desire flared in their dark depths. “Then you better move so I can get to my wallet,” he responded before nipping at her bottom lip. “Because the need to sink into your tight pussy without a condom—”

  “Do it.”

  Yanis froze for a split second at her demand. Held her stare with his own.

  “Fucking do it, Yanis,” she repeated. “If you’re clean, then do it. I’m on the pill. I want nothing from you except your cock and the most incredible orgasm of my—”

  He plunged into her, impaled her on his entire length in one fluid thrust. She cried out, nails clawing at his shoulder, knee driving into his armpit. “Holy fuck, yes!”

  His size stretched her folds, a hot friction that flooded her core with liquid electricity.

  “S
o tight,” he rasped, eating up her face with his stare. “So tight and hot and wet and—”

  She kissed him silent. Made love to his mouth with her tongue as he stretched her flesh and filled her heat. With every thrust, his cock penetrated her deeper. With every roll of his hips, his length slid against her clit.

  He nipped her lip, capturing her right breast with a savage hand as he mauled her backside with the other. Drove into her, possessed her. Propelled her closer and closer to the precipice. Kneaded her ass and pinched her nipple and sucked on her throat.

  She’d bear the mark of their wild passion tomorrow. She didn’t care. This moment, this act of mutual desire and uninhibited passion—it was worth the bruise she would wear, worth the whispers of her assistant, the knowing looks of the members of The Screaming Tuesdays.

  She didn’t care. Because Yanis inside her was everything she’d imagined it to be, and more.

  He was powerful and wild and brutal and took her with the fire with which she herself burned. When she reached the apex of pleasure, when she knew she couldn’t last any longer before sexual insanity claimed her, Yanis raised a shaking hand to the side of her face, cupped her cheek with tender care, gazed deep into her eyes, and said, “Come with me, baby. Come with me now.”

  It was the open rapture and vulnerability in his plea that plummeted her over the edge, that detonated her climax deep in her core, a powerful contraction that robbed her of breath and made her cry out again.

  She rode his penetrations, her release a thick throb that pulsed around his cock, her stare locked with his. Let out another hoarse cry as concentrated pleasure etched Yanis’s face and he rammed harder into her.

  The force of his release filled her. His hand on her ass turned to a painful grip. She came again, a second time, undone by the sheer primitiveness of their joining, came around his thrusting cock, squeezed his length with her internal muscles, held onto him as pleasure unlike any she’d had before crashed through her.

  A lifetime—or maybe just one hell of an intense orgasm—later, Carson let out a wobbly laugh and slumped against Yanis’s chest. Pressed her face to the side of his neck and breathed in deeply.

  Neither said a word. There were no words to be said. Not now. Maybe later, after the few weeks remaining of The Screaming Tuesdays’ time in the States had passed and the Australian band had moved onto their European leg of their world tour…maybe then the words would make themselves known, but for now there was just the raw potency of their pleasure and their surrender to each other.