Dangerous Dancer

My arms found their way up and my hands clamped behind his neck as I rested my head further back into his shoulder. I gasped when his hand danced over my abdomen then up over my breast and slid up my neck, where he stroked the skin tenderly. “I fucking love your neck,” he growled in my ear. I couldn’t speak, I could barely breathe and I wilted under his words, his touch, his scent, and his moves.

My breaths came out in ragged pants as we continued to grind hard against each other. He let go of my neck and spun me around to face him, my eyes lazily opened as the droplets of sweat began to form over my body and I caught the look of lust and desire brimming in his eyes as he silently yanked me closer to him.

My right arm wrapped around his neck and my left hand cupped his face. We were nose to nose and I smiled widely as we seductively moved together as one, every move I made was attached to him. He hooked his hand under my left knee and raised my leg from the floor, running it against his hip and I felt my chest move away from him as I bent myself back, then he was over me trailing his hot, wet tongue up my neck causing goosebumps to prickle over my skin and I realized when he brought me back up to meet him, that I no longer had control over my own body or mind. He did.

He grinned as we systematically swayed lower towards the ground then back up again, my hands dug into his shoulders, his hands gripped my behind and squeezed, he dropped his head lower towards my chest and I closed my eyes again. Drinking it all in, drinking him in.

I’d never experienced anything like this before, it felt like we were the only two people in the club as I continued to lose myself in him. I felt like we were making love to each other but without doing the deed. When his mouth found its way to my neck again and my fingers balled into his hair, a euphoric smile tugged at my lips.

This was wrong, but it felt so right.

I could feel the passion exploding between us and I knew, as we continued to get down and dirty with each other, that this one dance, where all my inhibitions were completely stripped away, would leave me craving for more.

So much more.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

My heart felt like it was trying to break free of my rib cage, it was pounding so fast, so hard and there was no way she couldn’t feel it against her own chest, as she continued to seduce me with her body. It was taking every ounce of strength I had left in me to keep my arousal from showing when she dragged her fingers through my hair once more and threw her head back again exposing my weakness, my Achilles heel, where she was concerned. Her damned neck.

My right hand was sat at the small of her back with her dress bunched between my fingers, my left hand slid up the damp, tender skin of her neck. It felt like silk, it smelt intoxicating, it tasted like honey and it was just like a drug, addictive. As my mouth devoured her neck again, I felt a murmur reverberate in the back of her throat, which stoked at the embers of the fire burning through me. With that one sound echoing through me, my whole body erupted into flames of desire. My hand slid back down her neck, and over the swell of her breast, and her nipple peaked as my thumb grazed over it, teasingly and with agonizing slowness, then continued down the contours of her body. She brought her head back up to meet mine and gripped my neck as her hips continued to rock, sway and grind against mine. How the fuck she could say she couldn’t dance was beyond me, this woman could move and she moved dangerously.

Everything going on around me was a blur, my whole focus was on this moment, this dance, this silent conversation between the two of us where our bodies were the communication and our movement was the tone. I was seducing her before she would even realize she had been sed

uced, bringing out her passion, stimulating her imagination and satisfying a need, a need she may not have even been aware of, until now. A need to feel sexy and alive.

Her lips were parted, her chest swelling as the sweat rolled down her skin and twinkled like tiny diamonds under the dim lights of the club and my eyes were taking the time to appreciate every single inch of her, committing it all to memory as the sight drove me into a haze of such yearning and sensory overload, it almost felt dreamlike.

She was enchanting and infatuating and the lust and passion driving through me was becoming excruciating. I didn’t care that she was married, I didn’t care if she wasn’t mine to dance with like this, and I didn’t care that I was effectively making love to her right here in the middle of the club for all to see, all I cared about was what I was doing with her, to her and for her. The side of her face rested against mine and her hand cupped my cheek tenderly, her lips were turned towards the edge of my mouth. If I moved a fraction, my lips would meet hers. I wanted to kiss her, I wanted to drag her home and make love to her, show her how a real man treats a lady. She deserved nothing more than to be showered with love and affection, treated with respect, adored and idolized, not used as a verbal or human punching bag at her husband’s discretion.

The thought of Max instantly brought reality crashing down around me and I carefully untangled her hands from around my neck and stepped away. Her silent stare was soft, her eyes teeming with emotion and they glowed with warmth. She looked so fucking sexy, just like a lioness toying with her next meal.

If she was mine, I’d never let her go. But she wasn’t mine, yet I already knew I wasn’t letting her go.

She took a step closer towards me and smiled, “I need a drink,” she said, dragging her arm across her forehead then proceeded to whip her hand back and forth in front of her face, trying to cool herself down. I knew exactly how she felt, my whole body was alight and the rage of hormones running through me indicated I’d be taking a stone-cold shower the second I got home.

Smiling, I tried to even out my heavy pants and passed her my lemonade. “I need alcohol,” she pouted.

I shook my head and smirked, “No, Myshka. You’ve had two triple vodkas already, how will you explain that to your husband? I can’t take you back home drunk!”

At the mention of the word husband, her eyes went wide and panic set in across her face. She placed the drink back on the table and bent over. My hand instantly went to her back, “What’s wrong?” I asked in her ear, stooping over her.

“How long have we been here?” She gasped.

I checked my watch, I was surprised to see we had been here nearly three hours. Time really does run away with you when you’re enjoying yourself. “It’s 3pm,” I told her and felt her relax under my touch.

“I need to get going, if Max is out of court early and I’m not there…” She stopped talking and clamped her hand across her mouth.

My chest constricted. I pulled her upright and into my arms, my thumb gently stroked her cheek as my mouth moved into her ear, “I thought you said he’d be home late?”

Her hands balled into the back of my top, “What he says and what he does are often two different things. I can’t take the risk. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I understand, come on let’s get you home,” I replied through my clenched jaw. I didn’t want to leave, I didn’t want my time here with her to end and I certainly didn’t want to return her back to that prick. But I knew, for now, I had no choice.

Holding her jacket out for her, she slipped it on and let down her hair, then turned around to me and gave me a smile that seemed so completely genuine, but with a hint of shyness to it, that unexpected warmth flooded through me.

With a deep sigh, I begrudgingly led her from the club and out into the pouring rain. Her hand slipped from mine as we ran towards the car. I stopped to look back. “Myshka, what are you doing?” I shouted over the loud pellets of rain.

She let out a hearty laugh and spun around in a circle, her arms out to her sides, her face up to the sky while she squealed childishly, “Don’t you just love the rain?”