The sway of her hips entrances me. She's not even dancing yet, and I can feel the blood pounding in my cock. It takes everything in me not to stand and get rid of this whole charade. I can have her now, I know it, but good things come to those who wait, and I want to savor this girl—this woman.
Seconds tick by as I listen to her sift through the music on hand. A button clicks, and finally, the sound of instruments filters into the room. A woman's throaty voice croons from the speakers. Cara reaches down and undoes the straps of her heels, stepping out of them before she moves toward me.
"It's been a while since I've actually danced," she confesses quietly.
"Are you afraid you're not any good?" I ask. She could sway back and forth for an hour, and I'd be entranced, so I suppose it doesn't really matter if she's any good.
"No, it's not that," she says. "I just feel like I'm out of practice."
"Don't think about that," I tell her.
"Then what should I think about?" Perhaps she doesn't realize it, but she's already dancing. Her hips shift from side to side as her body rolls with the rhythm of the song she's put on. I'm fascinated.
My leg drops, and I lean forward, staring at her, watching her, craving her. "Think about what you're making me feel," I tell her, my words rasping from my throat. "Think about how much your audience wants you—with every fucking fiber of their being."
Her eyes widen. Her naughty little tongue comes out, sliding across her lower lip, mocking me. "Okay..." she whispers back. "I'll try that."
Try?I think moments later as I watch her move, her body swaying and shifting, her limbs moving in liquid patterns that just don't make fucking sense. There's no trying in this, only doing. And what she's doing is driving me wild.
Cara dances like a dream, and when she forgets I'm even in the room, it grows hotter. She spins, lifting her arms in a way that pushes her breasts forward. My throat feels dry. More. I want more.
"Take off your dress," I growl.
If she hears me, she doesn't let on, but moments later, she turns to offer me her back as she reaches for the zipper holding her from my sight. It descends, revealing creamy pale flesh. When the fabric falls to her feet, she steps from it and kicks the dress away.
Now in nothing more than a simple black bra and a pair of matching underwear, I see nothing but feast for my eyes. Still, she dances. She dances into two songs and then three—far beyond what I told her I expected. Almost as if she's forgotten our original deal, like she doesn't care anymore and is just enjoying the feel of her body moving on its own.
Then I see it. The muscle in her leg jumps beneath her skin, and when she lands on her next pirouette, she winces.
"Stop," I command.
The spell breaks, but the music continues. I stand from my seat and slowly walk toward her. The closer I get, the more I see. The sweat on her skin, beaded and sliding over her muscles. The flush to her cheeks. She's beautiful like this. No, more than beautiful. She's absolutely enticing.
When I reach her, she doesn't flinch away. Her head tilts back as her eyelids lower. Her chest rises and falls with the rapid breaths she takes. When my hand slides behind her neck and holds her still—immobile and captive for my kiss—she doesn't resist.
Her lips part all on their own, and she accepts my tongue into her mouth. I dive deep, wanting a taste of whatever magic she's spinning around me. Cara's delicate little hands come up and cup the back of my skull as she kisses me back, her tongue twining with mine. A soft moan escapes her, and all it does is make the flames burn hotter.
I want more than that. I want everything she has to give. One of my hands trails down her stomach and pushes past the elastic band of her panties. I grin against her lips as I feel her jerk in surprise a split second before my seeking fingers touch the wetness there. She likes this, probably far more than she wants to admit, but that’s okay. I like a challenge.
"My naughty little dancer liked her secret performance, didn’t she?" I ask as I push two fingers into her depths and curl them upward.
Cara’s lips part on a gasp, and her whole body tightens as she goes up on her toes. Almost as if she’s trying to get away from the sensations I’m calling forth in her, but I’m not going to let that happen. Now that I have her here, there’s no fucking way I’m going to let her go until I see her come apart.
I fuck her soaked little pussy with my fingers, circling her clit with my thumb, relishing in the way her muscles tighten down on the digits, and she squirms. She’s a live wire, this girl, and now she'll dance for me in other ways. I fuck her pussy harder, feeling her tight sheath clench down on my hand as another rush of wetness smears across my fingers and hand.
Her moans grow sharper, louder as she writhes against me. Cara pulls her mouth away from mine, panting and moaning as she shakes her head wildly, trembling in my grasp. That's fine with me, I think as I watch her head tilt back. Whether it’s instinctual or accidental, I don’t care. The fact is, Cara has bared her delicate throat to me, and I can’t pass up such a beautiful invitation. I sink my teeth into the soft side of her throat, and that's when she comes, her body squeezing all of that trembling wet flesh over my hand as she soaks my hand, her juices dripping all over my fingers.
I pull them out and hold them up to her, pressing them against her own lips. “Open,” I command. Wide, surprised eyes meet mine, but she follows my order, and I watch in heated fascination as her plush, pink lips part, and she opens her mouth to take my fingers inside. “Lick my hand clean,” I growl. “Don’t leave a fucking drop, Cara. You made the mess. Time to clean it up.”
Her eyes never leave mine as she does just that. Cara’s tongue flicks against my hand, lapping up her wetness. I almost yank my hand away I’m so jealous. I start to regret my actions. Perhaps, I should’ve done the job myself. She looks like she’s enjoying the taste of her so much, and I bet she tastes like fucking nirvana.
Cara continues to suck her juice from my fingers, cleaning me just like I ordered. Her eyes are wild, the light doing strange things to them. There’s confusion in those depths, almost as if she doesn’t quite understand why she’s doing this, but it’s a compulsion nonetheless. That’s what this is for me. A compulsion. I don’t think I could stop myself even if I tried.
"Good girl," I whisper, my tone gentling. "Now, it's my turn."
I pull my fingers free, letting her feet return to the ground before I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her alongside me. When we reach the chair, I press her down onto her knees and reach for my belt. Those curious eyes of hers follow my movements as I unbuckle, then reach inside my slacks, taking my cock in hand and freeing it to her gaze.
Once again, I relish in the shock on her expression as her mouth drops open and her eyes widen as they descend on what I have gripped in my hand. I’m by no means a small man—in any way—but she’ll be good enough to take me. She took my fingers so well, after all. I know she’s wet enough, and I know she wants this enough. She wants me, and she’ll have me. Her tightness is going to be fucking delicious all over my dick. Impatience sings in my blood.
To cool my ardor, even if for only another second—prolonging this silent battle of wills between us—I clamp my hand around my cock and give it a nice long stroke. Cara seems entranced as if she can’t look away from the movement. Good. I want her focused on me. I want all of her attention right here. I’m not going to take her tonight, so this will have to be enough.
I stroke my cock again for good measure, watching her face, smelling her scent on my fingers. It doesn't take long for my spine to stiffen and the skin over my cock to tighten back as I feel a rush of euphoria come over me. Just as I feel my cock jerk, I grit my teeth and turn, directing the head of my cock to her.
Cara sits there, on her knees, face tilted up, watching me curiously and hungrily as cum erupts from my dick and shoots out. Long streams of white arch between us, landing directly on her chest. I grunt, bending slightly as I continue to stroke myself through my orgasm. Spurt after spurt hits her soft ivory skin until she’s painted in my cum, and it drips down to her nipples.
Her expression contains a mixture of something dark and deviant when I finally refocus on her. That damn curiosity and innocence are so fucking addictive, I want to do more depraved things to her just to see what she’d do. Almost as if that spawns my next actions, though, I reach forward and, with rough fingers, I spread my cum across her skin, trailing down and circling her tight little nipples as they peak under my touch. Dirty, filthy little girl, I think with appreciation just before I move my fingers back up and push them into her mouth once more.
She opens for me easily. What a good little slut. "You look beautiful,” I tell her. “Especially when you’re covered in me.”