Eternally Seduced(104)

"Nice emotional speech," another executive retorted, "but if you could get to the bottom line please?"

She pointed to Staffan.

He choked.

"What the fuck does that mean?" a lady executive burst out.

Of course it had to be a girl against her, Saffi thought with a sigh.  This one reminded Saffi too much of what's-her-name back when she had  participated in a similar meeting. This NYC version had a fashionable  bob, beautifully cut bangs, and steel blue eyes glowering at her behind  stylish-looking glasses.

"Staffan is the bottom line," Saffi said simply. "Every girl, woman,  person  –  everyone who would pay money to watch a 3D concert would only  do so because it is another way of getting closer to Staffan. So if you  want to offer the kind of prize that would convince more people to go,  then you must offer more of Staffan."

"Oh, you mean, have Staffan Aehrenthal offer himself up on a silver  platter to crazy fangirls?" the older woman bitched. "That's a great  point, but you're not considering the logistics. We can't have Staffan  grace every premiere in every country---"

"And I'm not asking you to do that. It would be too tiring for him, and  as you say, logistically speaking, it would only make sense for Staffan  to visit those where he's strongest and maybe, if his schedule permits,  the places where he's weakest so that he can build a bigger fan base."

She pointed to Staffan, gesturing to his entire body with a flourish.

This time, Staffan choked.

"Every fangirl wants a piece of this even if he's married, he's cranky,  or he's---" She tried to think of a way that would make Staffan appear  less "godly" in his fangirls' eyes. "They would still like him even if  he's a … lousy kisser."

Staffan slowly turned to look at her.

She pretended not to notice Staffan's what-the-fuck gaze. "What I  propose instead is for Staffan to have a special video created for each  country where his fan clubs are organizing premiers. Even a short five  to ten-minute interview would do. That means so much. As for the prize,  it could be a 5-minute call with Staffan. That's what he does to raise  funds for his charities and it really works. So why can't we duplicate  it?"

When she finished speaking, no one wanted to look at her.

Saffi's shoulders slumped. How could they not realize that those kinds  of gifts rather than expensive impersonal prizes would work so much  better as an incentive for fangirls? Did she have to hold a Fangirls 101  class for them to see the truth?

"Bravo, bravo." It was the girl again.

Saffi bit back a sigh. Of course  –  of course they would need to have a showdown, just like before.

"But you're forgetting one thing. Staffan Aehrenthal's time is more  precious than a trip to Hawaii and we would never be so insensitive and  conceited---" She paused, looking at Saffi pointedly.

She flushed in response, realizing where this was going. She wanted to  look at Staffan and ask if what the girl was saying was true. Had she  been asking for too much? Had she been thinking too much as a fangirl  that she had forgotten she was now … Mrs. Aehrenthal?

"---well, we won't be so unprofessional as to overtire our most prominent star with such antics."

There was a pause.

Saffi prepared herself to apologize.

"Now, are you all done?"

All eyes shot to Staffan at his words.

"You've all made your points. Now I'm going to make mine. This is my  fucking project to be made with my funds. I asked all of you to be here  because you were supposed to be the fucking experts. But all I can see  is a group of the worst idiots I've ever had the misfortune to work  with."

His hazel eyes glinted. "First of all, this is my wife  –  if you idiots  want to be on my good side then you don't fucking disrespect my wife in  any goddamn way." Apologies and flustered protests rose from around  them, but Staffan dismissed all of it with a wave of his hand.

"And finally, those crazy fangirls are the reason why my songs make it  to the goddamn #1 spot on the charts, the reason why I sell millions of  fucking copies of my records even though everyone else's is being  pirated and downloaded using fucking torrents. So I'm going to fucking  ask you just one question  –  do you think that what my wife so sensibly  suggested would be too much for me to do, considering all that? Don't  fucking answer. Work on your proposals again and I won't give you  another chance if you all mess it up once more."

When no one moved, Staffan barked, "Leave."

Everyone scrambled out of their chairs and the room was cleared in seconds.

And then Saffi bounced onto his lap, stunning Staffan. "Baby?"

There were the most beautiful stars in her eyes as she looked at him, her face glowing.

Shit.

He was so fucking unmanned whenever Saffi March-Aehrenthal looked at him like that.

She said shakily, "I thought … I thought you wouldn't---"

He cupped her face and kissed her, deeply, his tongue moving into her  mouth, his lips sucking hers  –  he kissed her like her air was the only  kind he needed to breathe, and sometimes it felt like it was so. "I  remember the last time too, baby," he whispered.

Her eyes glistened with tears.

"I remember not standing up for you and then kicking myself repeatedly for not doing so  –  I won't make the same mistake again."

Her lips moved but no sound came out.

Ah, shit, shit, shit!

He just wasn't ready to hear her say the words yet, but he knew she  wanted to. He knew deep inside he wanted her to. So instead he said  hoarsely, "Longitudinal."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"Longitudinal long-nosed chimaera. That's what you wanted to say, wasn't it?"

A tear trickled down her cheek just before she threw her arms around him  so enthusiastically, his seat toppled backwards. They both fell to the  floor, laughing. "Yes," she gasped between happy tears and laughter.  "That's exactly what I wanted to saaaay!" She ended up moaning the last  word because Staffan had pulled the loose neckline of her dress down,  together with the cups of her bra. She moaned again as he cupped her  breasts, the feel of his touch so achingly familiar  –  something she  missed so much she cried a little at the feel of it.

"Ride me, baby."

She didn't need another invitation, impatiently dealing with his belt,  pants, and briefs. The moment she wriggled them past his feet, she threw  them away and moved eagerly back up to sink herself down on him.

"Staffan." She moaned his name as she took his dick into her inch by inch.

"You're killing me," Staffan groaned. His hands grasped her hips and  before she could stop him, he was pulling her down while lifting his  hips up.

"Ah!"

There was no way to speak after that, passion overtaking them completely  and never letting go. The slapping sounds of their bodies made  everything more arousing, and she leaned down, wanting Staffan to suck  her as she rode him.

He was eager to oblige, his mouth taking in one succulent nipple and  sucking so hard that she threw her head back and screamed. She rode him  as best as she could. Saffi squeezed his dick inside her with muscles  she did her best to control, using it to drive Staffan further out of  his mind.

"More," Staffan gritted.

She blindly obeyed the command, bouncing up and down wildly on his dick,  her long dark hair dancing against her back. He kept his gaze glued on  Saffi, loving the way her lips were parted in desire as she milked and  milked his dick.

His body started to tense and stir, and Staffan immediately reached out  for her clit. She moaned at the first touch and when he started to  stroke, she fell against him, grinding her sex against his fingers even  as she didn't stop bouncing up and down on his dick.

Shit, shit, shit. She was bouncing so much faster now.

Bounce. Bounce. Bounce. Bouncebouncebouncebouncebounce---

The pleasure crashed over them like a torrent of rain from the skies,  and Staffan growled his release, clutching her hips tightly as he  pounded into her again and again, loving the way his come filled her so  much it started to trickle out.

Saffi was sobbing, her hips furiously wriggling as she continued to  bounce, her own juices pouring out, mingling with his sticky cum.

She collapsed against his chest.

Staffan stroked her hair.

"Logical long-whiskered catfish," Saffi murmured.

This time, it only made him chuckle.

Minutes later, as he started to dress himself, he heard a snapping  sound. Ah shit  –  he spun around but it was too fucking late. This time,  he snarled.

"I'm sorry?"

"Saffi, dammit---"

"But I saw Ashton posting a picture of Demi once and he was saying how  sexy his wifey was and I wanted to show the world how sexy you are,  too!"         

     



 

"Erase it."

"Umm, I could, but … it's already been retweeted?"

"Saffi---"

"1,456 times?"