Dance for Me

by Kay Elle Parker

  With soft thumps, her hands slid bonelessly off his head and landed by her sides. Shuddering, she was helpless to fend off the second orgasm roaring toward her like a tsunami. It struck her swiftly, stealing breath and voice and sight for several long seconds, reducing her universe to the slow plunge of his fingers inside her and the beat of her own heart using her ribcage like a squash court.

  For the love of everything holy, he’d killed her.

  Bodie winced as his fingers eased out of her, and her stunned brain couldn’t quite comprehend the sight of her lover sucking his digits clean with an appreciative hum. Okay, that was kinda hot, she supposed. Just a little.

  She was too limp to react negatively when Braun prowled over her again, this time slipping his arms underneath her shoulders as his weight rested once more on top of her shuddering form. The set of his body, his unruffled calm, put her at ease.

  “Doing okay there, little one?” He resumed kissing her as though he’d never stopped, only this time he tasted a bit sweeter, muskier, than before.

  “Dandy,” she said after she caught her breath. “I think I’m dead.”

  “Definitely alive and kicking,” he promised, sweeping his tongue over the pulse point in her throat. His body rocked subtly, running his cock over the sensitive area between her thighs. “Ready to take the final hurdle with me, Bodie?”

  His eyes told her everything she needed to know, answered the last questions. She nodded slowly, and his lips curved as his hands cupped her head from beneath.

  She offered no resistance when he rolled his hips and nudged her entrance with the head of his cock. A whimper escaped her, followed by an unhappy grunt. His fingers kneaded her nape, his eyes intent and focused only on hers. Midnight blue, almost black now, but her Master was in residence.

  The muscles in his back and butt tensed, and he forged inside her in one long, gentle thrust. She arched; he cradled her close. Soft mewls echoed in her chest, plaintive and unsure, but Braun reassured her even as his cock sank deep, hitting spots inside her not even his questing fingers had reached.

  “Take all of me, Boadicea,” he rasped. “Just let me in a little bit more.”

  Nuh-uh. No more will fit!

  She bit her lip, shaking her head.

  “None of that. The only person who gets to mark this body is me.” Braun’s mouth captured hers, stealing her lip from between her teeth and sucking it gently into his own. His tongue ran over the indents left from her punishing bite and, growling territorially, replaced the wound left by anxiety with one of possession. “Fuck, I love you, you stubborn woman.”

  Blindsided by his declaration, Bodie gaped at him. She saw the room blur as they rolled, then found herself sprawled over her lover. She clutched at his shoulders when he scooted himself up into a sitting position with her still clinging to him. His hands reached down and hooked around the backs of her knees, pulling them up so she straddled him, then smoothed up her thighs to grasp her hips.

  “Sit up slowly for me, darlin'.”

  Jesus, he felt bigger this way. Bigger, thicker, harder. She didn’t want to move, not when her pussy fluttered around his shaft, inexperienced muscles twitching and clenching as though asking what the hell is this doing in here?

  He said he loved her.

  People didn’t say that during sex, did they? Or if they did, it was just raging hormones and sexual attraction speaking.

  “Come on, little one. Trust me. Sit up and ease back a fraction.” He guided her gently, smiling knowingly when her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. She sat on him, taking the last inches of his cock as she sank down to the hilt. “That’s a perfect fucking fit, Bodie. Clever girl.”

  Even as she preened under his praise, turning her cheek into the palm he raised, she struggled to adjust to being so damn full. As long as she didn’t move, she’d be okay. The burn of discomfort began to fade, leaving in its wake that familiar ache. The ache whispering in her ear, encouraging her to rock, to shift her hips and ride the gift she’d been given.

  “I need more of this mouth,” Braun decided, feathering fingertips over her lips. Inside her, he throbbed. “Take your time, Bodie. I’ll just keep myself occupied for a few minutes.” His hand cupped the back of her head—it soothed her when it dawned he hadn’t stopped touching her her—and tugged her forward for a kiss that made her blush down to the roots of her hair.

  The movement raised her an inch, and she gasped as the thick shaft piercing her moved too. Sparks ignited somewhere in the vicinity of her womb. Her moan was long and rapturous, so completely unlike any sound she’d made before.

  Arms hugging Braun close, her head dropped onto his shoulder. Getting braver, she eased up, lowered herself again, and felt her body respond with confetti cannons. Her nails dug into Braun’s back, anchoring her to him as she delegated control to her body and nature.

  “That’s my good girl. Dig those claws into me, kitten. Find the rhythm.”

  One hand ran up and down her back while the other rested on her butt, urging her to rock back and forth. Her rhythm was jerky, uncoordinated, but Braun didn’t appear displeased by her ineptitude. On the contrary, his groans were as lustful as her own.

  “Up and down, darlin'. Nice and slow. “

  She obeyed without question, raising up onto her knees until only the crown of his cock connected them intimately, sinking down again to the music of his voice. The sparks multiplied, evolved into something more dangerous than before, a match already struck and waiting only to be tossed into fuel.

  As her confidence grew, thoughts of pain and embarrassment flitted away. There was only them, Braun’s body beneath hers and her own becoming something more. She leaned back, taking him deeper still, and let her head fall back on a moan of pure joy.

  “There she is. There’s my gorgeous girl.”

  She said the words she hadn’t known were waiting. “Fuck me, Braun. Please.”

  He didn’t argue. Didn’t ask if she was sure. They both knew she’d reached a point where kid gloves were no longer necessary. They rolled again, and a laugh burst free from her as she landed flat on her back, breathless and aroused. That laugh cut off quickly, knocked from her lungs with the first wild drive of his hips.

  Flesh slapped against flesh.

  In the dim recesses of what was left of her working brain, she understood that although he hammered her into the mattress with sure, swift strokes, he was still holding back. She read it in the lines of strain on his face, the concentration in his eyes.

  Taking what he wanted, giving her what she needed, but not yet asking her to expand the limits of what she could handle.

  Her breathing changed, turning into rapid pants as the wet sounds of her pussy turned molten. His cock touched a spot inside her that set her muscles on fire, spreading through her sweat-slicked body as though she bathed in the heat of a forest fire. She tightened around him savagely until he snarled.

  Braced over her, eyes keen on her face, he ordered, “Touch your clit, Bodie. I want you to come with me.”

  Her hand slipped between them, found where they joined. The smooth slide of his shaft against her fingers was sinful and so fucking arousing. Braun snapped out a curse word, holding his weight up on one arm as his other hand grasped hers and directed it where he wanted it.

  Their twined fingers rubbed over the distended bundle of nerves, tipping her over the edge into an orgasm that left her throat raw and her body quaking under his. She came again in rapid succession as he slammed his hips flush to hers, spearing deep and holding himself rigidly still.

  He grunted quietly, and she felt his cock kick as he came. Again and again, until the strain around his eyes and mouth relaxed. He dropped his forehead against hers, rubbing their noses together in an Eskimo kiss—she was starting to enjoy those—and then painstakingly extracted himself from her body.

  Bodie grimaced, whimpered under her breath, but Braun bent and kissed her sweetly.

  “Stay right here, gorgeous. I’m
not leaving you.” He strode into the bathroom. When he emerged a few moments later, his impressive erection was at half-mast but unadorned by latex, and he held a washcloth in his hands.

  Bodie was exactly where he’d left her, already half asleep. She didn’t have the energy or the modesty to try and move her legs, arms, or head. Still didn’t when her lover sat beside her and, with all the patience of a man tending to something he loved dearly, gently cleaned her sore pussy with the cloth.

  She drifted in a post-orgasmic haze, listening to him tell her how proud he was. How much he loved her. Reassuring her she was safe, she could sleep.

  In that haze, she lost sense of time and place. The only thing that mattered to her in those minutes was the strong body tucked up behind hers, the powerful arm banded around her waist. The sound of him breathing. The murmur of his voice. The scent that was no longer only him, but a combination of them.

  In companionable silence, she snuggled into him without thinking about how vulnerable she was in these moments. Her trust in him was now absolute, given to him freely, and more than earned on his part. He’d stuck with her from day one, despite all the crap she’d thrown at him, regardless of the things she’d done out of stubbornness and fear.

  She loved him, her patient Master, and she could only hope the curse of her family wouldn’t come close to touching him.

  Chapter Twelve

  It was a good morning when a man woke with a warm, sleeping woman curled on him. This particular woman brought sunshine into his life even though the glimpse of sky he could see through the crack in the curtains was gloomy. Right now, it could toss cats and dogs down from a sky the color of a fresh bruise, and he wouldn’t care.

  He had more important plans today than worrying over what the damn weather was doing, and they all involved keeping Bodie in his bed for as long as humanly possible. He doubted it was going to be an easy task—being intimate with him was a huge step for her, and when it came to steps forward, his little subbie had a tendency to backpedal as fast and far as she could.

  Unfortunately, whether she knew it or not, she’d met her match in him.

  Braun stroked along the length of her spine, feeling her arch into the caress with a soft sigh. He distinctly remembered falling asleep as the big spoon sometime around dawn, yet somehow she’d reclaimed her place on top of him while they slept. Which was fine with him—anytime she wanted to crawl on him and cuddle, he was open to it.

  If he had one wish come true this morning—ooops, strike that, make that this afternoon, he thought with a glance at the clock—it was that her inner bitch give them a break and just let them back in the beauty of what transpired in the hours before sunrise.

  Events had gone further than he’d been prepared for, he had to admit. He’d acknowledged sex as a possibility, but hadn’t really braced himself for the impact of actuality. Strangely, although he recognized and accepted the responsibility of his actions, they didn’t weigh as heavily on his shoulders as he’d imagined.

  Being her first was a privilege, one he hoped vehemently he’d done justice to, and he fully intended to become her first in so many other things. As far as he was concerned, there would be no others for Bodie. Not unless she chose to try a scene under his guidance, with his presence shadowing her every step of the way. And only with one of the other Avalon Masters; he knew them well, they were clean, they were respectful, and they understood the consequences of harming another Master’s sub.

  Braun hadn’t lied when he told her he loved her. Love was nothing to joke about; it wasn’t a tool to use to lower a woman’s guard or play with her feelings. Falling in love with her had never been a choice, and he stood to lose a great deal if she threw him aside in search of bigger and better things, but in his mind, the deal was done.

  Bodie belonged to him.

  Every inch of this leanly muscled body and smooth skin. The turbulent and canny mind behind beautifully haunted eyes. Her innocence—and no, not the one he’d stripped from her just hours before; the inherent innocence staining her down to the soul—was his to maintain and protect for as long as possible.

  He grinned, madly in love, when she snuffled and rubbed her cheek over his heart. Who knew he’d surrender it to a woman who swung from pliant to savage in the blink of an eye? Oh, he’d known there was something that day on the street when he’d stood back and watched her dance for shoppers passing her by in the rain.

  Something about her. Something waiting for them both.

  She’d only confirmed that knowledge when she stormed into Avalon with his cash in her little fist, wielding her attitude like a sword. Had that been when his heart first stumbled and didn’t recover?

  Braun ran his fingers gently through the loose tangles of her hair where they spread over his chest. Silky and fragrant, an unfortunate casualty of last night’s adventures. He had a yearning to sit her in front of him and brush out the sleek fall of hair, tend to her in the most basic of ways.

  He wondered idly if she’d let him.

  Fiercely independent, that was his girl. Hopefully, she would learn to depend on him in time. She was already leaning toward seeing him as a strong shoulder, but she needed to learn to use him as such. She would, in time. It was a hard transition to make after being alone for so long, and independence was a tough trait to loosen her grip on.

  A quiet whine broke his attention away from his thoughts and back to the woman moving restlessly now. He was intrigued to discover which side of her came out swinging first.

  Her fingers curled over his arm, clutched it tight. “Did you catch him?”

  Braun stifled a confused laugh, peering down at her with curiosity. “Catch who, little one?”

  She moaned, sighed. “The total jackass who ran me over with a semi and left me for dead. Was it too much to ask for him to finish the job?”

  Hmm, she appeared to be in a humorous mood rather than a decapitating one, which boded well for him. He hoped. He gave her a long stroke from neck to ass, feeling her tightening muscle loosen beneath the touch of his palm. The trick now was to keep her just like this. “Leaving you for dead wasn’t quite my intention, darlin’, but if you’d like to try again...”

  A laugh snorted against his chest. “Wouldn’t take much to finish me off for good. I think I’d like to live long enough to see my next birthday, if you don’t mind.”

  “Are you sure?” His cock was rapidly perking up at the notion of exploring his subbie a second, possibly even third time, if she was so inclined. “We can pull off slow and gentle for the next—when’s your birthday?”

  “April twentieth.”

  “Yeah, we can pull off slow and gentle for the next three months.” He kneaded her cheeks in his hands, simulating the rhythm of her riding him—because, fuck, she’d almost killed him with the tentative rock of her hips and the clench of her muscles around his cock—and brushed his lips over her eyebrow. “All joking aside for the moment, how are you doing? You feeling okay?”

  Bodie sat up, using his chest for support, then swept her hair away from her face with one hand. His heart ached when she winced, but she stayed where she was. “Maybe next time I should do some stretches. My legs think they’ve run a marathon.”

  “Well, it’s not like you’re out of shape,” Braun murmured, massaging her slender thighs, smiling when her moan turned carnal. “We just need to work on the muscles you don’t use when dancing and hone your sex muscles.”

  She lifted an imperious eyebrow. “Is that a real thing or are you conning me into a repeat of this morning?”

  Braun tipped her off to the side, rolling immediately over her to claim her sassy mouth. It was such a relief not to have to wrestle with her scared bitchy side after such a lovely morning of debauchery. She responded eagerly but with that touch of uncertainty he found so endearing. “Sex muscles are absolutely a thing. Very important. They need daily maintenance—at least three times a day for maximum fitness. Lucky for you, you have a machine for a lover who is more tha
n willing to sacrifice anything and everything else in his life to ensure your health.”

  Her hands raised, rested against his cheeks before he could kiss her into oblivion again. “Thank you, Braun. For making it pleasurable. I-I'm sorry I tried to keep it a secret. And I’m sorry for being such a bitch, and a coward since...well, since the day we met, I guess. I’ve been a mess and you...you didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

  Huh. That’s an unexpected leap forward. Braun turned his face, nipped sharply at the fingers closest to him. “Apology accepted, little one. From what I can gather, you don’t deserve the way you’ve been treated all your life either. Why don’t we call it a clean slate from here on, start fresh?”

  She blinked up at him, obviously baffled. “That’s it? Just...forgiven?”

  He cocked his head. “Were you expecting me to lose my temper, Bodie? Find my best cane and give you a dozen lashes for being scared and defensive?”

  The color leeched from her face. “Um, no. Maybe not the cane.”

  Ignoring the rush of desire in his veins, the primal urge to spread her wide and sink deep, Braun studied her face. Took several moments to read through her expressions what she couldn’t say.

  Was it actually possible she felt the submissive urge to make reparations through physical penance? Many submissives often believed forgiveness wasn’t truly achieved without some form of punishment to reconnect them to their Dominant and, as he’d just said, wipe the slate clean.

  Once punishment was doled out, everything was indeed forgiven.

  But was she ready for that level of intimacy between them? It solidified their bond as Dom and sub, would seal their fate together for as long as they were meant to be. The affinity would be more than sex, more than even the scene they’d done together.

  Engaging his dominant voice, he said simply, “Ask me for what you need, little one.”

  Her eyes darted away from his and she licked her lips nervously. “Actions have consequences. My behavior was rude sometimes, and hurtful. Being scared...” She swallowed hard and dropped her hands to her sides. “Being scared isn’t an excuse for how I’ve acted, even if it is the basis for it. I’m going to try harder not to be that person any more. But I think I’d feel better if,” another quick swallow, “if you’d let me show you how sorry I am.”