I take his hands. Press them to the chair again.
I slip off him. Onto my feet.
My eyes go to our reflection. Then I turn to face him.
He looks up at me like I'm heaven sent.
It's better than last time. Better than every time. Better than anything.
I bring my hand to his thigh.
He shudders as I unzip his slacks and push his boxers aside.
Fuck, he feels so good. He always feels so good. But this isn't enough. I need more. I always need more with him.
He watches as I lower myself to my knees.
I run my thumb over his tip, then I wrap my hand around him and pump.
Again.
And again, for good measure.
He groans as I bring my lips to his tip.
A soft brush.
I'm not patient enough to tease him.
But I need to see this. I take one moment, soak in the sight of me on my knees, my lips around him, his hand on my chest.
Then I take him into my mouth.
He knots his hand in my hair. "Bri, fuck." His words are strained. A tone I recognize.
He wants to insist he fucks me.
But his body is begging him to relent, to surrender to pleasure now, and here, and come in my mouth.
I press my palm into his thigh.
He tugs at my hair, pulling me over him. Then his hand is cupping the back of my head, pushing me forward.
He groans again.
I flick my tongue against his tip.
Then he's tugging harder, pulling me off him.
"Song's over." His breath is ragged. "Please, baby."
Fuck, that sounds good on his lips.
And I want him inside me. I really fucking do.
He offers his hand, to help me up.
But I don't take it. This is still my fucking game. And he's still under my fucking thumb.
I make him wait. For stopping me. For trying to take charge. Because I love watching him wait.
Then I slide onto his lap.
His hands go to my hips.
His cock brushes my sex.
His lips go to my nipple.
He pulls me down, onto him, as he flicks his tongue against me.
Fuck. My eyes close. My hand goes to his neck. The back of his head.
I work with him, driving down on him again and again.
I'm already wound so tight.
I'm already so fucking close.
My eyes flutter open. My gaze goes to our reflection.
Me, naked in his lap, his lips around my nipple, his cock driving into me again and again.
Fuck.
With the next rock of my hips, I go over the edge.
My sex pulses around him, pulling him closer, taking him deeper.
Pleasure rushes through my thighs, but I don't stop. I move faster, trying to take more of him, to take him over the edge with me.
He scrapes his teeth against my nipple.
He runs his nails over my back.
Then he's groaning against my skin, digging his fingers into my hips, driving me over him again and again.
He shifts his hips, so my clit is against his pubic bone, that perfect fucking pressure.
Again.
And again.
Exactly what I need to fall over the edge.
I groan his name as I come.
This time, I pull him with me.
He pulses, spilling inside me, groaning into my chest as he works through his orgasm.
It's fast. Intense. Almost too intense.
I work through his orgasm, then I collapse in his arms, catch my breath.
Fuck.
It's the only word I have.
He presses his lips to my neck, then he untangles our bodies, helps me to the bed, does away with his clothes, climbs in next to me.
He pulls my body into his. "Fuck, baby." He presses his lips to my shoulder. "You're perfect."
"Yeah?"
"Fuck yeah." He kisses me again. "Was it what you wanted?"
"Could you not tell?"
"Couldn't take my eyes off your tits."
"Really?"
"It was a struggle." He pulls me closer. "I can tell. Still want to ask."
"It was."
"Everything you wanted?"
My cheeks flush. How can I be nervous to tell him this? I just demanded his attention for a three-song set?
And then some.
I push past my embarrassment. "The club next time. And we'll… roleplay it."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. I'm a dancer who plays by the rules. But you want me so bad you convince me to break them."
"Sounds fucking hot."
It does.
"Tomorrow?"
I laugh. "You're ready that fast?"
"I can be ready in twenty minutes."
"Should I count?"
"Fuck yeah. Get dressed. I'll get into my suit. It will take an hour to clear a room, but I'll make it happen."
"In a few weeks."
"Tomorrow?"
"The office."
"Fuck yes."
Yes. I can do that. I've wanted to fuck in his office for a long time, but I haven't found the nerve yet.
"This is the time to ask, huh?"
I nod.
"I'll get a yes to anything?"
"Your odds are good."
He smiles. Then something strange happens.
He blushes.
Liam Pierce blushing.
Fuck.
It's adorable and sexy and smooth all at once.
"I had this whole thing planned," he says.
"To get me to fuck you in your office?"
"With a key in a jewelry box." He turns me around. Brushes my hair from his eyes. "In the dresser."