Alle Kapitel von UNHOLY & FORBIDDEN : Kapitel 91 – Kapitel 96

The final curtain call had ended twelve minutes earlier. Vesper sat on the edge of the makeup counter in the green room, still in the black stage dress, wiping the last of the heavy liner from under her eyes with a cotton pad. The mirror bulbs around the frame cast a warm, even light across the small space. Leftover scripts and a discarded prop sword sat on the far chair. The air smelled of cold cream, sweat, and the faint metallic edge of the stage blood they had used in the second act. From the corridor came the distant sound of the house emptying. Theo stepped in and closed the door. He did not lock it. He simply leaned back against it, still in his white shirt from the final scene, sleeves rolled, the collar open and damp at the edges. Early thirties. The same sharp focus he carried onstage was still in his eyes, but looser now, residual adrenaline making everything closer to the surface. They had played opposite each other for six weeks. Every night the same charged scenes. Ev

The mirror bulbs had begun to warm the small room past comfort. Vesper’s stage dress was still pushed up around her waist. The cotton pad lay forgotten on the counter. Theo had stepped back only long enough to lock the door this time, the soft click sealing them in with the leftover scent of cold cream and the faint metallic trace of stage blood. He turned and looked at her reflection first—flushed, marked, still open on the edge of the counter—before he looked at her directly. “Six weeks of that final scene,” he said. “Every night I had to walk offstage and not do this.” He crossed the space, gripped her hips, and pulled her off the counter. The dress slid higher. Theo turned her to face the mirror fully, placed her hands on the counter in front of the bulbs, and kicked her feet farther apart. The warm light left nothing in shadow. He freed himself again, rubbed the thick head of his cock through the wetness still between her thighs, and pushed in with one continuous, heavy thrust

The service elevator smelled of warm metal and industrial cleaner. Rook stepped in carrying a stack of folded linens, the cart left in the hallway. The car was larger than the guest elevators, scuffed steel walls, a single overhead cage light throwing harsh yellow across the floor. She hit the button for the sub-basement laundry. The doors began to close. A hand stopped them. Dex stepped in, let the doors seal, and hit the emergency stop. The car jolted and held between floors. Late thirties. Dark work shirt open at the throat, sleeves rolled, the residual grease of the night’s maintenance still on his hands. He had been watching her for three weeks of overlapping shifts. She had been watching him back. He didn’t speak. He took the linens from her arms, dropped them on the floor, and backed her hard against the steel wall. The kiss was open and immediate, tasting of coffee and the long night. Rook made a short sound against his mouth. Dex’s hands shoved her uniform dress up to he