moved over her skin, highlighting the strength of her supple body, the soft curves of those beautiful little tits, catching the gold in the curls protecting her pussy. And yet it wasn’t a display of sex. It was a display of strength.
Christ, he could feel himself getting hard and he knew he should get up and leave. Take himself away before this got out of hand. But he couldn’t walk out in the middle of her performance. It would ruin it.
She was standing in front of him on her toes, her chin lifted. One arm curved above her head, the other outstretched in front of her as if she was reaching for him.
She was blushing furiously but met his gaze without flinching. So proud. So strong. He almost lifted his hand to touch her and then the music changed and she spun away, whirling around and around in a series of perfectly controlled pirouettes.
Now. Fucking now. He should get up and leave.
But still he sat, dry-mouthed and hard, watching her as she danced for him. Naked and vulnerable and yet so damn strong.
Her back arched, her arms lifting, one leg straight up behind her, her body in a gentle curve. Her nipples had hardened into tight little points. And he could see…fucking hell.
He closed his eyes, trying to get control of his breathing. Slickness between her thighs.Hot pink flesh .
Kahu reached for his scotch and knocked it back, relishing the burn. Hoping it would cancel the sting of desire that slowly and inexorably crept through him.
Again Lily came closer to where he was sitting. The fire had made the room hot, a drop of sweat sliding down between her breasts, her skin deeply flushed from exertion.
He had to get out. He had to.
She stood there, legs apart, up on her toes, her arms above her head, looking down at him, proud as a queen.
And he didn’t know what came over him but he couldn’t stay still. Couldn’t be at the mercy of this inappropriate desire or watch her flaunting it in front of him a second longer.
He put his arms on the chair and pushed himself up in a sudden rush of movement.
She didn’t flinch, almost as if she expected it of him.
And for a second their gazes locked. She, tall and proud, naked and strong. He, fully dressed and breathing fast, his cock hard. Consumed by a hunger he didn’t realize was still possible to feel.
Electricity crackled between them, tension filling the air, a complicated mix of frustration and desire and anger. He could smell her, clean, feminine sweat and flowers. A hint of musk. Her skin glistened in the firelight, her pulse beating fast at her throat.
The music continued to play and before he could move, she’d turned away, taking a couple of precise steps before she kicked one leg out in front of her, another impossible balance on her toes, holding the position before abruptly arching back, kicking even higher, then folding all her limbs up in a graceful fall to the floor.
The music ended.
Silence echoed around them.
He felt like he’d been hit over the head, his ears still ringing with the blow.
Lily moved, shifting from the floor and getting to her feet. The green of her eyes was dark and shadowed, the glitter on her lids from her eye makeup sparkling. Her mouth, full and pouty, was slightly open.
She didn’t say anything, going over to her chair and shifting it so it was angled more toward his. Then she turned and sat down, her hands on the arms, her legs outstretched in front of her, her chin lifted and her gaze confronting. Sweat glistened on her body, her breasts rising and falling in time with her quickened breathing.
“So?” she asked, her voice only a little ragged. “How did I do?”
Chapter Seven
Every muscle in her body felt tense, her fingers digging into the arm of the chair, her thighs quivering. But not because she was tired. No, shit, she felt the opposite of tired, all keyed up and humming with adrenaline instead. Like she wanted to keep moving, keep dancing. Break out of her skin. Do something.
There was so much
Christ, he could feel himself getting hard and he knew he should get up and leave. Take himself away before this got out of hand. But he couldn’t walk out in the middle of her performance. It would ruin it.
She was standing in front of him on her toes, her chin lifted. One arm curved above her head, the other outstretched in front of her as if she was reaching for him.
She was blushing furiously but met his gaze without flinching. So proud. So strong. He almost lifted his hand to touch her and then the music changed and she spun away, whirling around and around in a series of perfectly controlled pirouettes.
Now. Fucking now. He should get up and leave.
But still he sat, dry-mouthed and hard, watching her as she danced for him. Naked and vulnerable and yet so damn strong.
Her back arched, her arms lifting, one leg straight up behind her, her body in a gentle curve. Her nipples had hardened into tight little points. And he could see…fucking hell.
He closed his eyes, trying to get control of his breathing. Slickness between her thighs.Hot pink flesh .
Kahu reached for his scotch and knocked it back, relishing the burn. Hoping it would cancel the sting of desire that slowly and inexorably crept through him.
Again Lily came closer to where he was sitting. The fire had made the room hot, a drop of sweat sliding down between her breasts, her skin deeply flushed from exertion.
He had to get out. He had to.
She stood there, legs apart, up on her toes, her arms above her head, looking down at him, proud as a queen.
And he didn’t know what came over him but he couldn’t stay still. Couldn’t be at the mercy of this inappropriate desire or watch her flaunting it in front of him a second longer.
He put his arms on the chair and pushed himself up in a sudden rush of movement.
She didn’t flinch, almost as if she expected it of him.
And for a second their gazes locked. She, tall and proud, naked and strong. He, fully dressed and breathing fast, his cock hard. Consumed by a hunger he didn’t realize was still possible to feel.
Electricity crackled between them, tension filling the air, a complicated mix of frustration and desire and anger. He could smell her, clean, feminine sweat and flowers. A hint of musk. Her skin glistened in the firelight, her pulse beating fast at her throat.
The music continued to play and before he could move, she’d turned away, taking a couple of precise steps before she kicked one leg out in front of her, another impossible balance on her toes, holding the position before abruptly arching back, kicking even higher, then folding all her limbs up in a graceful fall to the floor.
The music ended.
Silence echoed around them.
He felt like he’d been hit over the head, his ears still ringing with the blow.
Lily moved, shifting from the floor and getting to her feet. The green of her eyes was dark and shadowed, the glitter on her lids from her eye makeup sparkling. Her mouth, full and pouty, was slightly open.
She didn’t say anything, going over to her chair and shifting it so it was angled more toward his. Then she turned and sat down, her hands on the arms, her legs outstretched in front of her, her chin lifted and her gaze confronting. Sweat glistened on her body, her breasts rising and falling in time with her quickened breathing.
“So?” she asked, her voice only a little ragged. “How did I do?”
Chapter Seven
Every muscle in her body felt tense, her fingers digging into the arm of the chair, her thighs quivering. But not because she was tired. No, shit, she felt the opposite of tired, all keyed up and humming with adrenaline instead. Like she wanted to keep moving, keep dancing. Break out of her skin. Do something.
There was so much
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