Don't Promise (Don't 3)

“It didn’t come like this, did it?”

She laughed. “No, of course not. I had permission to have the mirrors and the barre installed for my practice.”

Other than an old record player and a crate of records on the far side, the room was empty. The floors were smooth and soft.

“You dance in here?”

“I used to. I haven’t tried much since I was injured. But I do a lot of stretching, and it’s a great workout room.”

“What kind of music do you play on that thing?” I pointed to the turntable.

“Mostly classical.” She walked to the stack of albums in the crate and flipped through them and retrieved one from the center.

“Where did you get it?” I streamed all my music. I didn’t have a CD player.

“It was a gift from my ballet teacher when I left Paris.” She sounded sad. “She gave me all her records and the turntable.”

She was smiling, but it was at a distant memory, not at me. “Sometimes I come in here and listen. I remember the dances.”

“Like what?” I asked. I had this need to connect with her. To bring her back to where we were. I wanted her to leave those Paris memories and remember I was standing in front of her.

“Stuff like this.” She placed the vinyl record on the player and moved the arm for the music to begin. I heard a violin and a piano, but all I saw was her. Her long, graceful legs. The beauty of her breasts. The fact that there were two of her in this room with those mirrors. My cock twitched.

I reached for the dimmer, lowering the lights on the shimmering chandelier.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I want you to take your clothes off.” I was ready to strip her bare myself if she didn’t start shedding the tank top and shorts.

But she lifted her arms, pulling her shirt overhead, and with a quick snap, her bra skidded over her arms. Her fingers landed on her hips and she shrugged the shorts over her legs and stepped away from the small pile of clothes.

I reached for her, pulling her into my arms with a hungry kiss. She moaned as my tongue slipped in her mouth. I moved back, yanking my shirt off and kicking my pants out of the way.

We stood in front of each other naked. I led her to the barre and spun her to face our reflection. I kissed the side of her neck as my hands traveled over her breasts. I stopped to roll her nipple between my fingers as my other hand coasted over her stomach and plunged between her legs.

“Oh, God.” She leaned into my chest, jutting her hips forward so I could slide between her slit.

“Watch,” I told her. “Watch all of it. Watch when you come. Watch me fuck you right here.”

I felt the heat between her legs as my fingers massaged her clit. “Yes,” she breathed. Her legs buckled slightly as I spread her opening.

I’d never been so fucking turned on in my life. I nudged my cock against her ass. As she rocked into my fingers, she lifted on her toes, then lowered to her bare feet. I felt her sliding her clit against my fingertips as she moved up and down, then slowly, her hips eased backward with each rise and fall until her arms were stretched forward on the barre and her soaking wet entrance was mine to take.

I pushed my cock enough to stretch over her.

“Ohh,” she whimpered.

“Nice position,” I growled over her back, admiring her curves. She wiggled closer and I knew she wanted this as badly as I did.

I rubbed the head over her clit, coating her juices over me. She felt so warm I wanted to get lost inside her. I wanted to fill her. I wanted to fuck her for the rest of the night as if it was our first night together.

I looked at her in the mirror. Her tits dangled in front and I reached for them, plucking each one until she whimpered.

“Watch me fuck you, Natalia.”

Her head jerked up as I positioned myself and drove inside her with a shudder that ripped through my body.

We both groaned at the intensity of the angle. She held the barre while I pumped in and out of her from behind. Watching her eyes, her nipples, her slice of paradise, dripping wet from wanting me.