by Darcy Rose
Because he loves hearing me laugh.
Like I said, I have no idea how I got so lucky.
He slows down in front of a gorgeous colonial flanked by a pair of regal oak trees. “Wow,” I sigh. “What a house.”
“It’s nice, huh? Looks like it was just sold, too.” He points to a sign on the lawn.
“Lucky them, whoever they are.”
“Hey.” He takes my hand, running his thumb over the knuckles. “Are you unhappy at the apartment?”
I know how seriously he takes my happiness. Like he’s personally accountable for it. “No, not unhappy. But a house? That’s always been a dream, you know? I mean, obviously, I’ve never had one of my own. I used to watch TV shows where people lived in houses like this, and I’d imagine what my life would be like if I had a home.”
“Come on. Let’s do a little imagining.” He’s out of the car before I can even put two thoughts together, jogging around to my door.
“No way!” I’m shaking my head even as he helps me out of the car. “No, we can’t do that. This house belongs to somebody. It’s illegal.”
“We wouldn’t wanna break the law or anything like that, would we?” He’s being sarcastic, of course, since he doesn’t exactly live by the letter of the law. “Nobody will care. They haven’t moved in yet if the house was just sold.”
But still. It feels downright wicked, walking across the lawn and taking a peek inside the house. There are two picture windows, one to either side of the red front door, and roses grow in the beds underneath. I always did want to have a garden.
“Wow, look at that living room. It’s huge!” And there’s so much light from the front, side, and rear windows. I can see through to the kitchen and what looks like a breakfast nook by the windows looking out over the backyard.
Through the other window, we can see what looks like a study or an office. I always wanted to have one of those, too, just for the sake of having somewhere to curl up with a good book on a rainy day.
I don’t realize I’ve sighed until Archer leans in and kisses the back of my neck. “What’s the sigh about? You sound sad.”
“No, not at all. Just… it would be nice to have something like this.” His arms wind around my waist, and I smile. “But I have you, so I already have everything.”
“There’s a little additional building off to the side here.” He leads me to an attached structure that looks like it was put in after the original construction. “I wonder what’s inside.”
“No. Archer.” This is taking things too far; his hand wraps around the doorknob. “You can’t.”
“Oops. Looks like I did.” The door swings open to reveal…
“A dance studio?” I cross the threshold out of sheer curiosity. “Wow. This is incredible!” Three walls are completely mirrored from floor to ceiling. There’s a barre spanning one end of the room, a little sound system in one corner.
“I bet you could do plenty of dancing in here, huh? Is it everything you’d need?”
“It’s big enough, for sure.”
“So it’s what you need? I wasn’t sure how to set it up.”
Finally, his words sink in. I turn to him and find him grinning from ear to ear. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying it’s yours. The house, the studio. All of it. I bought the house for you. And once the security cameras are installed like I’ve scheduled, it’ll be even more secure than the apartment was.”
A house of my own.
It’s like my birthday and Christmas and the Fourth of July all at once. I launch myself into his arms, laughing. “I love it! I love you!”
His breath is warm against my neck. “I love you, precious one.”
Is this real? I can’t believe it. That he would go to all this trouble for me. I have to do something for him—he’s been so generous, so thoughtful, in-tune with everything I want and need.
“Hey. Does this sound system work?” I go over to it, pulling out my phone—the phone he bought me and helped me load all my favorite music on.
“Sure. Everything’s ready for you to use. What do you have in mind?”
I cue up a song on my playlist and hook the phone up to the system. “Just sit down, and you’ll see.” I point to one of the mirrored walls, where Archer sits with his back to the glass while watching me.
This is my dance studio. Mine. Where I’ll be able to wear my brand-new shoes. Where I can put into practice the things I’m learning in the classes, Archer encouraged me to take. “You’re my ballerina,” he whispered the night he suggested I enroll. “My ballerina needs to dance.”
I’ll dance now. I’ll dance just for him.
He smiles once I start moving to the soft, gentle music. I’m not warmed up, but my muscles wake up a little more with each movement, with each stretch, every time I extend my arms over my head. I test the space, doing Chaîné turns across the floor until I’m in front of him again.
“I love watching you dance,” he murmurs over the music. “It’s what you were born to do.”
The music changes to something harder. Heavier on the bass.
And my dancing changes with it.
I turn my back to him, dropping down in a crouch before slowly raising myself with my butt thrust in his direction. “What do you think about that?” I run a hand over my ass before slapping it. “Was I born to do that?”
“Looks that way to me. What’s gotten into you?”
“What do you think?” I spin on one foot, sliding my hands from my thighs over my hips, tugging my shirt up a little as I run them over my sides, then cross them over my breasts. I let them linger there, kneading gently, while my hips swing slowly from one side to the other in time with the beat of the music.
“I think I’m about to bust this zipper.” His eyes are darker as he watches me now, his mouth open slightly.
My hands slide back down over my body, stopping at my waistband long enough to unbutton my jeans. I turn, sticking my butt in the air while slowly lowering them to my ankles. I know my lacy white thong leaves nothing to the imagination.
“Fuck, baby.” I can see Archer reflected in the mirror across from me. He’s rubbing himself now, eyes locked on me. I kick off my flats and then the jeans, running my hands up the backs of my legs as I straighten up. “I should buy you a house every day.”
My shirt comes off as I turn back to him, and I toss it his way before tossing my bra at him, too. I can see myself reflected in the mirror behind him, and I like what I see. A woman comfortable in her skin, dancing for her man.
“Get over here. Right now.” His tone is firm, no-nonsense.
I drop to my knees and slowly crawl on all fours across the floor, eyes locked on his. Once I reach him, he extends his legs to either side of me, and I run my hands up their length before reaching his belt and opening it.
He pulls me close, his fingers digging into my ass. “Will you dance for me whenever I ask?”
“Only if you ask nicely.”
His head dips, his mouth closing over one of my nipples, then the other while I open his jeans and reach inside to pull out his thick, throbbing dick. His teeth scrape my skin when I stroke him, making me hiss.
“I could live on the taste of your skin.” He yanks me closer, tearing my thong as he pulls it to the side so he can sink two fingers deep inside me. His thumb circles my clit as he fucks me with those fingers while his mouth moves over my neck, my breasts, nipping and sucking, tracing every curve with his tongue.
I capture his mouth with mine and moan into it as an orgasm builds quickly, growing every time I slam down on his fingers. When he hooks them and presses against my G-spot, fireworks explode behind my eyes. I’m gone, lost in him, in us, in what he does to my body—to my soul.
Before I know it, I’m on my feet with my back to the mirror, and Archer is pulling his shirt over his head, dropping it along with his jeans and boxer shorts. He picks up my thigh, draping it over his hip before spearing me with his dripping cock. “Oh,
god, so sweet.” He groans into my mouth, our tongues clashing as he drives himself into me.
He lifts me slightly. “Wrap those legs around me, baby.” I do it, locking them behind his back before he takes over completely, punishing my sex with merciless thrusts. I bite down on his shoulder to hold back a scream of pure animal lust as another orgasm slams into me practically on top of the first.
I’m lost, undone, somewhere between heaven and Earth. Between reality and the hottest, sexiest fantasy I’ve ever had. Letting him use me while I use my arms and legs as leverage to bounce up and down on his cock.
“Oh? You like it like that? Show me.” He stands up straight, pulling me away from the mirror, bearing my weight with ease. “Fuck me. Ride my cock, baby.”
I do, gasping every time my clit grinds against his base. Wet slapping sounds fill the room, along with his name as I moan it over and over. “Archer… Archer… I’m gonna… oh, god, yes!” I slam down one final time, shaking and sobbing in his arms.
He doesn’t wait for me to come down. He’s too far gone for that, holding back for my sake. I’m on my feet before I’ve stopped whimpering from the final spasms, turned to face the mirror with my hands on either side of my head, holding myself up.
Now he can take me deeper than ever, entering me from behind. “Watch me fuck that sweet pussy, baby. Keep your eyes open. Watch yourself.”
I do what I’m told, staring into my eyes as Archer takes me slowly now, filling me with deep, grinding thrusts that make his balls slide against my juice-slick thighs. One of his hands kneads my breasts while the other slides over my mound, putting pressure against my clit once he parts my folds.
“Oh, fuck!” My senses are overloaded, pleasure threatening to tear me to pieces from the inside out as familiar tremors start in my core. I look at Archer’s over my shoulder, the tendons standing out on his neck as he fills me with every inch of his manhood again and again.
I’ve never seen myself like this. Mouth open, eyes half-closed with lust, hair hanging in my face. My breasts sway with each thrust, and I bear down on Archer’s hand, rubbing myself off on him while he fucks me. I’m like a stranger to myself, but I love it. I love what he turns me into.
“Fuck me,” I grunt. “Harder, Archer. Harder.”
“You like that?” He pierces me deeper than ever, sharp enough to make me whimper and mewl. “You want it hard? As hard as I can give it to you?”
“Yes!”
“You want me to use you like a fuck toy? Is that what you want?”
“God, yes! Yes, use me.” My legs buckle from the force of my final, shattering orgasm, but Archer holds me up long enough to come with a roar. My body is racked with delicious tremors while he fills me with his cum, pumping slowly until he’s spent. We sink to the floor, tangled together, sweaty and breathless.
And if he’s anything like me, so incredibly happy. Satisfied. Hopeful.
Because this is our home. Ours, together. Always.
And there are a lot more rooms left for us to christen.
Thank You for reading His Ballerina,
Their Ballerina is up next and tell the story of Archers brothers Cash and Kane
Their Ballerina
Ballet is the only thing I’ve ever had, my only reprieve from my sad life after my father died and my mom turned to the streets.
That’s until the night I’m attacked. I tell myself it won’t happen again, but then it does, and this time I make the ultimate mistake. I fight back.
My only option is to call them: Kane and Cash Hale.
From the moment I met the two terrifying, yet gorgeous men, I knew to cross their paths would mean trouble.
I can’t trust the cops and I’m afraid I’ll end up in jail without their help.
Except their help comes with a cost… a cost that involves both my body and my soul.
Get Their Ballerina Now!
About the Author
If you like your stories short, taboo and kinky, then a Darcy Rose book is perfect for you. She writes about shy and innocent heroines, to match them up with dark and intense heroes who have only eyes for one girl.
Also by Darcy Rose
VOW OF REVENGE
Stolen
Captive
Bound
COMING SOON
His Ballerina
Their Ballerina
STANDALONES
Christmas Obsession
