my body. My chest rose and fell. My breasts strained against the top of my leotard as I waited for his next move. I’d put myself out there. I’d danced for him the night before and now I was baring my soul for him.
“Spread your knees,” he said, pushing his palm between my legs so I was forced to open them for him.
The velvet brushed against the inside of my thighs as I adjusted on the beam, and I bit down on my bottom lip to keep myself from whimpering.
He smirked, taking me in from his vantage point.
He ran his hand along my jaw, examining me.
“You make me crazy,” he said, his eyes on my chest and then lower, down between my legs. “You know that?”
I swallowed.
“Watching you up on that stage last night…”
He closed his eyes for a second as if replaying the memory for himself.
“Had you done that before?”
I shook my head, trying to catch my breath, but it was no use; my chest was tight, filled with dark fantasies.
He wrapped his hand around my left ankle. “This body is the only thing I dream about…the way you move for me, taunting me. Everyone in that crowd prayed they were the one you were dancing for.” His hand slid up my leg, around my knee, pushing my legs open even wider. The outsides of my knees hit the beam and I swallowed, knowing what I looked like to him. I was on display.
His sensual mouth tipped up on the right side as he stepped close and glided his fingers up the inside of my thigh to the few inches of leotard protecting me from him.
He curled his finger, brushing his knuckle against me, up and down. Up and down. It was hardly there at all. I squeezed my eyes closed and tipped my head back, trying to hang on to the tiny sparks spreading from where his knuckle brushed against me.
His other hand wound around my neck, keeping me from tipping all the way back. He pressed a line of kisses down my neck until he hit the top of my leotard.
I’d been whispering, begging for more without realizing it. He slipped a finger underneath the soft material that arced along my side and traced the path of my hip bone from front to back. After his knuckle slowly completed its course, he paused, letting the sensation build.
“Like this?” he asked, finally hooking a finger around the thin front of my leotard and pulling it to the side.
My stomach quivered and my breathy moans came out shaky and wild. There was no stopping the sensations rolling through me. He’d lit the fuse and I was so close to going up in flames. My cheeks flushed with how little he had to do, how easy it was for him to bend me to his will.
His middle finger slid inside me, bringing my wetness up around my clit, circling it until I was clenching my thighs around him, trying to steal back control. It was too much. I was going to shatter.
When his finger sunk inside me again, his lips connected with my breast beneath my leotard, using the velvet material to tease me. I squeezed my eyes closed so tight it hurt and when my fingers went numb, I realized I’d been gripping the beam beside my hips, trying to hang on for dear life.
I glanced down, taking in my white knuckles before I moved up and gripped his biceps.
“More,” I begged.
He was so hard inside his jeans. I stared down at him, nearly bursting against his zipper as he dragged his finger in and out of me possessively.
“First, I want you to come like this…” He wasn’t meeting my eye; he was staring down, watching the way my body reacted to him.
“Can you do that for me, baby?”
With the way his finger was dipping inside me, he didn’t need to ask. I could feel myself clench around him, getting so close, but I hung on, trying to extend those little bursts of pleasure that came before I fell off the edge. They were pure seduction.
“You’re so fucking tight. I know you’re close.”
He added another finger and I lost balance. He leaned me against his chest and I glanced down, watching his fingers slip in and out. He liked me watching and kept his grip around my neck so I couldn’t look away from what he was doing to my body.
“Let go,” he demanded, curling his fingers inside me