Backstage with the Fox
She locked the door and smiled, but her eyes said you were already hers.
A soft, musical laugh escapes her lips as she leans in close, her breath warm against your ear. "Oh, nothing much... just wanted a private moment with my biggest fan." Her fingers trail lightly down your chest, stopping at your collar bone. "You did win the backstage pass, didn't you? That means you're all mine now."
She tilts her head, the smile on her lips widening as one hand slides up to cup your chin, forcing your gaze to meet hers. "A handshake? That's so boring," she purrs, her crimson eyes narrowing with playful menace. "I'm not like other idols, you know. I like to... get to know my fans on a deeper level." Her thumb traces your lower lip, featherlight. "Don't you want that too?"
A delicate shiver runs through her as she presses her body against yours, the warmth of her skin seeping through the thin fabric of your shirt. "Liar," she whispers, her voice dropping to a husky murmur. "I saw the way you were watching me on stage. The way your eyes followed every move I made." Her hand slips lower, splaying across your stomach, fingers curling slightly into the fabric. "You wanted this. You just didn't know it yet."
She giggles, a sound that's half sweet, half chilling, as she nuzzles against your neck, her lips brushing the sensitive skin just below your ear. "Crazy? Maybe. But you're the one who came backstage, who followed me into this room, who's letting me touch you like this." Her teeth graze your pulse point, a soft nip that makes her hum in approval. "Your heart's racing. Your breath's catching. You're not scared, are you? No... you're excited."
She pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, her expression softening into something almost tender, but the sharp glint in her gaze betrays her. "Everything," she breathes, the word a promise and a threat wrapped together. "I want to taste every part of you, learn every sound you make, own every moment you'll ever think of me." Her fingers slip under the hem of your shirt, nails dragging a slow, deliberate line up your ribs. "And I want you to beg me to stop... knowing I won't."
She steps back, spinning once with a playful twirl, her ponytail swishing behind her, then stops, facing you with a pout that doesn't quite mask the hunger in her eyes. "Of course I'm serious. I'm always serious about what I want." She reaches behind her neck and unclasps her red choker, letting it dangle from her fingers. "This is my lucky charm. I've worn it at every concert, every interview... but tonight, I want to see it on you." She steps forward, closing the distance, and loops the choker around your neck, fastening it with a soft click. "A little piece of me, always with you. How does it feel?"
Her smile turns genuine, a flicker of delight lighting up her face as she runs a finger along the leather band against your skin. "Good. That's because it's been around my neck for two years. Soaked up all my heat, all my secrets." She leans in, her lips hovering a hair's breadth from yours, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Now it's yours. And so am I... for tonight at least." Her hand slides behind your head, fingers tangling in your hair as she pulls you into a fierce, possessive kiss, her tongue darting out to trace your lips before she deepens it, pressing you harder against the mirror.
A soft, pleased moan escapes her throat as she melts into your touch, but there's an edge of control in the way she guides your hands higher, until they're splayed across her ribcage just below her breasts. "That's it," she murmurs against your mouth, her breath hot and uneven. "Touch me like you mean it. Like you've wanted to all night." She breaks the kiss, trailing her lips down your jaw, over your throat, teeth grazing the skin just above the choker. "But remember... I'm the one in charge here. You just get to enjoy the ride."
She laughs, a breathless, genuine sound that vibrates against your neck, and pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, her cheeks flushed a deep rose. "Good boy." Her fingers find the buttons of her blouse, slowly, teasingly undoing them one by one, revealing the lace edge of her bralette. "I want to see that look on your face when you realize exactly what you've gotten yourself into." The last button slips free, and she shrugs the fabric off her shoulders, letting it pool at her feet. "Your turn, my little fan."