by Alexa Riley
She picks up a white dress and hands it to me. I pull my shirt off and slide the dress on over my body and turn to look in the mirror.
It has little straps to hold the dress up while the top fits close. I feel Elina come up behind me and pull the zipper up, and it’s secure but comfortable. The skirt flares out, hitting mid-thigh, the cotton material cool and pretty. My mom would lose it if she saw me in a dress like this. I always had to get ones that went all the way down to my feet.
“It fits perfectly,” Elina says approvingly.
“Like it was made for me,” I reply, agreeing.
“Probably because it was.”
I look at her in the mirror, our eyes locking on each other. She’s so sweet. I wish my mother was a little bit more like her. She walks over to the far wall and picks up a pair of sandals. They are a soft pink with flowers along the top. “These would look nice with that dress.” She bends down like she is going to put the shoes on me herself.
I try to stop her. “Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I insist, feeling uncomfortable that she’s waiting on me.
“I want to,” she says, smiling. Hesitantly I lift one foot, letting her slide one on, then the other. “I always wanted a little girl to dress up.”
I turn to look in the mirror again, loving the shoes and the dress equally.
“Come sit.”
I sit down at a vanity, and she starts to brush my hair out.
“Why is he doing all this? I don’t understand what’s happening. These clothes had to cost more than my tuition for this private dance school.”
Elina doesn’t answer me. Instead she pulls out a ribbon and ties it into my hair. “You have the softest hair.” She gifts me with a compliment and changes the subject. “Now I can feed you and show you around.” She steps back, looking me over. “Perfect. You finish getting ready and I’ll meet you in the kitchen. You have anything in mind to eat? It’s already afternoon, but if you still want breakfast we can do that.”
“I’m okay with whatever is easiest.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “Come on now. How about French toast and bacon?” My stomach growls at her words. “Guess that’s a yes.” She leans down, kissing me on the cheek, before turning to leave. I stand there still feeling like I’m in some haze, not entirely convinced that all this is real.
“Go with it,” I mumble to myself, wanting to soak all this up.
After making quick work in the bathroom, I practically run to the kitchen. Half because I want the food and half because I’m desperate to see Noah again. I wonder where he is.
Disappointment hits me when I see he’s not downstairs. Elina looks up from the pan she’s frying bacon in and smiles. “Sit,” she tells me, motioning to a seat that already has a plate with food on it. I do as I’m told and take a seat then start eating.
“So where is Noah?” I try to say it as casually as possible. I look up through my lashes to see her smiling at me again.
“I would guess he’s working. He’s always working.” She pauses and takes the bacon off the stove. “I’m hoping that will change soon.” She brings the plate over to me and then picks up her coffee and takes a sip.
“Why would that change?” I ask, wanting to learn as much about him as I can.
Instead of answering me she nods to my plate and motions for me to eat.
“When you’re finished eating I’ll show you around.”
With those words, I concentrate on eating what’s on my plate so that I can have a look at this castle. And maybe partly because I want to see if we’ll run into Noah.
Chapter Six
Noah
I had a walkway built from the main house to the studio for Aurora. There are glass doors that run along both sides that can be opened to let the breeze from the sea come through.
That’s how I heard the music.
I was in my office on a conference call when I heard something coming from the studio. The fact that I had it built within sight of my office is no accident. Just like Aurora coming to be here with me.
The people on the call kept talking about numbers and profit shares as I walked to the balcony and looked out. I could see the glass doors were ajar and there was movement in the studio.
“So she’s found it,” I say to myself before I hear more people on the phone talking.
Walking over to the phone I end the call without saying a word. I’ll deal with them later. Just as I take a step away from my desk, Elina appears.
“She’s had a late start to the day, but she seems very happy. We toured the house and the gardens before I showed her the dance studio.”
She smiles at me and clasps her hands in front of her pristine apron.
“And?” I ask as she waits for me to tell her to go on.
“She enjoyed the media room very much. I don’t believe she was allowed television at home. And also the grotto. She was excited to have a place indoors to swim while the weather is cool.”
“What did she think of the studio?” I’m hesitant in my question, fearful that it wasn’t up to her standards.
“She said that I saved the best for last.”
I feel pride grow in my chest that I was able to give Aurora something she loved. She may be here under her false pretenses, but as long as she is happy, then the ends justify the means.
“I’m going to retire. The kitchen staff has dinner under control. If you need me I’ll be in the east wing,” Elina says as she bows and leaves my office.
I thank her as she leaves and then make my way out to where Aurora is.
I follow the sound of heavy bass and a woman’s voice singing about being trouble. I recognize the Amy Winehouse song, and smile. I put a random selection of music on the sound system, not knowing what she liked to dance to in her free time. But after a lot of research I found out that she didn’t have free time. And even more rarely did she dance to anything other than classical or the prescribed music of the director in her show.
The door is ajar, so I step inside silently, slipping off to the side and taking a seat on one of the oversized armchairs I had brought in. It leans back a little, but it’s tall, so it’s comfortable for me to lounge in while I watch her.
When I sit down I finally allow myself to look at her, to focus on the beauty before me.
The studio is almost as large as most houses, but without any dividing walls. Near the entrance is a lounge area with a carpet and a chair and a couch. On the far wall is a door that leads to a bathroom, a sauna and a steam room.
But the main focus is the center stage, which takes up almost the entirety of the space. She could run from one end to the other and be out of breath before she reaches the edge. The one thing that I insisted on when building this space was that it have no mirrors. This is not a place for Aurora to be perfect. This is a place for her to feel beautiful and to come alive. This is the place where she can find her soul, and I can watch her do it.
She moves to the rhythm, slow then fast. I’ve never seen her dance like this before, and I watched every performance since the first night I saw her on stage. There are no clinical steps to what she’s doing. She’s feeling the music and moving in time.
Sitting back in my chair, I feel heat radiate through my body as I watch her. The white dress is made of a thin material that allows me to see through to her thighs. Then, when she spreads her leg high above her head, it dips down, showing me a peek of her light pink panties.
I reach down and rub my hand across my hard cock, watching her as she moves, imagining her moving against me. Her long legs wrapped around my waist as I thrust in and out of her wet folds.
Her arms move above her head, and her breasts peek out of the top of her dress. The blush on her skin from dancing has made me wonder what she tastes like when she sweats. If I licked between her ripe tits, would she taste like innocence or sin?
My cock begins to weep in my pants, begging for some kind of relief. Aurora is lost in the dance and the song, so I undo my pants and p
ull out my shirt to cover the opening. I reach down between my legs and hiss at the contact against my throbbing length. Slowly I stroke my bare cock as I watch her move, pretending she’s moving her body on top of mine, that my cock is deep inside her soaking wet pussy while she undulates.
My strokes become harder and more aggressive with every sway of her hips. It never occurs to me that I’m jerking off while watching her and she has no idea. The only thing I know is that I have to cum right here. Right now. And if I can’t do that in her little sweet cunt, then I’ll do it in my hand while I’ve got my eyes on her.
I feel it building, boiling up inside me. Watching her spread her legs and dip low is the vision that does it. I feel hot, sticky spurts of cum jet into my slacks as I give in to the relief. I have to bite my lip to keep from shouting out, the orgasm is so fierce. I use the cream to lube up my hand as I finish jerking off, pulling out every drop.
I sit like that for a moment, hand and inner thigh covered in cum as I try to control my breathing and watch her dance. It’s then I feel my cock begin to harden again, needing her this time. I know my hand won’t be enough to satisfy this ache. No, he needs her soft pink lips wrapped tightly around him.
I clean my hand off on my shirt and then tuck myself back into my pants. I straighten my clothing as best as I can before standing up, adjusting my growing cock and walking to the edge of the stage. Just as I do, the song ends, and she spins around laughing.
God, she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Her cheeks are flushed, and she looks like she came with me. The thought alone has me holding back a moan.
When she catches sight of me, she jumps then laughs again.
“Hey. I didn’t know you were in here. Sorry, I got caught up dancing. This place is magnificent.” She looks around with eyes wide, smiling brightly. “I can’t wait to train in here. I love that there are no mirrors.”
I tuck my hand in my pocket and secretly stroke my hard length. “I’m so pleased you like it. Would you like to dance more, or are you ready for dinner?”
She bites her lip, and I know the answer before she speaks.
“Maybe one more song?”
“I think one more would be perfect,” I say, winking at her and then taking my seat again.
She sets the music to Alicia Keys, “Fallin’”. The piano begins to play, and her body moves with the beats.
Looks like my hand will have to do one more time.
Chapter Seven
Aurora
I let my eyes fall closed as I feel the music wash over me. I haven’t enjoyed dancing like this in forever. To be able to move how I want. Exhaustion or hunger were always eating at me, distracting me from what I was supposed to do. Now I’m not worried that my mom could walk in at any time and yell at me for doing something wrong. Even more, I love that Noah is watching. I can feel his eyes on me. I wonder what he’s thinking. Does he like what he’s seeing?
I stop moving as the song comes to an end but let my eyes stay closed as my head falls back. I don’t think I have ever felt so free before. Even though I know I’m on an island, I’m already sad another day is almost over. Another day closer to when I will have to leave this paradise.
“That was the most perfect thing I’ve ever seen,” I hear Noah say in his deep voice. I open my eyes to see he’s standing right in front of me, with a look I can’t read on his face.
“You really like it? It’s not my normal stuff like my Mom—”
“It was the best I’ve ever seen,” he says, cutting me off. “I can’t imagine what it will be like when you start to blossom even more while you’re here.”
I smile up at him. It’s been forever since I’ve had a teacher actually tell me they like a dance I’ve made on my own. Not one that was designed for me. The praise makes every part of my body come alive even more.
“It’s that what I’m doing here? You’re supposed to teach me that?” I ask. Noah doesn’t look like any instructor or teacher I’ve ever had. He doesn’t even look like a man who would go to the ballet. “You are my teacher, right?” None of this is really making much sense.
Maybe we just haven’t begun our training yet. I have only been here for thirty-six hours.
He reaches out and grabs the bow that’s tied in my hair, pulling it free. My long dark hair falls loose down my back, and he watches it settle in glossy waves.
“I like your hair down when you dance,” he says, avoiding my question, something that seems to be common around here.
“Me too. My mom makes me keep it up.”
“I’m not sure I like the things I’ve been hearing about your mother.”
I want to say that makes two of us, but for all I know he reports stuff back to her, so I bite my lip.
He steps in a little closer, his hand still playing with the ribbon that was in my hair. His other hand comes to my cheek. His thumb brushes across my lips, and a faint memory of him placing his lips to mine last night when he put me to bed flutters through my mind. I can’t tell if it was real or a dream.
“I will teach you many things, little star.” He has that look on his face that I can’t read. His eyes seem even darker than I remember. They’re a contrast to the softness of his touch on my cheek and lips. “Now go freshen up, then I’ll feed you.”
Instead of doing as he asks, I stand there. My feet feel like they are rooted to the ground. I don’t want to go. I like the closeness of his touch. I’m not used to anyone touching me. I try to lean into him more, tilting my head back a little. He takes a deep breath and steps back. The movement makes a loneliness that I’d forgotten for a moment come rolling back. I had thought for a second that it wouldn’t have followed me here, but I guess I was wrong.
“Go, or I’ll never get you fed,” he tells me as his hand drops away from me. I feel myself start to blush at what I was doing. Embarrassment creeps in a little. Why would a man like him want to kiss me? He probably sees me as a silly little girl. Like my mom always says I am.
I turn and half run from the room, heading back to my own quarters. I hear him call my name, and I start to run faster. When I get to my room I go to lock the door but see the door doesn’t have one. I escape to the bathroom when I hear him call my name again, but this time he’s closer.
The bathroom door doesn’t have a lock either. What the heck? I mumble a curse to myself and decide to flip on the shower, thinking maybe that will stop him from coming in.
But he doesn’t.
The bathroom door flies open, and he’s standing there with a look of anger on his face.
“You don’t run from me,” he snaps out, making me take a step back. The retreat only seems to further darken his expression.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, dropping my eyes to the floor. My embarrassment only grows. My mother is totally right. I do need to grow up. I can’t even face confrontation.
When I feel his hand once again cup my cheek, I close my eyes. He tilts my head back so that I have no choice but to look at him. Even still, I try not to.
“Look at me, little star.” His words are soft and don’t match the anger I saw in his face moments ago. I do as he commands, my eyes opening to see his face holds none of that anger any longer.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. I just don’t like you running from me,” he tells me. He leans down, and I freeze, not sure what he’s going to do. But just as I’m about to tilt my lips to his, he brushes a soft kiss on my forehead. “Take your shower, then come join me for dinner. Maybe we can watch a movie afterwards, if you like.”
“That sounds nice,” I tell him. It actually sounds more than nice.
“I’ll even let you pick the movie,” he adds, making me smile.
“Can we eat and watch the movie? I’ve always wanted to do that.”
“We can do anything you want.”
I want to tell him I want him to kiss me, to ask if the kiss I dreamed about really happened, but instead I just nod. He places another kiss on my forehead before turning
to leave. And somehow, with his reassurance, I’m more confused than I was before.
Chapter Eight
Noah
She comes into the media room wearing a pale green nightgown. It’s got triangles covering her breasts and it’s banded under them, showing off her tits in the most obscene way. She doesn’t have a big chest. Like most dancers, she’s tall and thin. But I can see by the way the material clings to her that her firm breasts would fit perfectly in my mouth.
My eyes travel lower and see that it comes to about mid-thigh on her, showing off her long legs. She needs to eat more. Her body has been conditioned as an athlete, but she’s denied her body what it deserves.
She isn’t ashamed of her physique and walks in confidently, smiling at me. I’m laid back on the couch that reclines, with a tray of food beside me. She plops down on the couch, crossing her legs and leaning back.
The hem of her nightgown rises, and I have to stifle a groan.
“There’s a blanket for you, if you’re cold,” I offer, looking down at her hard nipples and then back to her.
“I’m okay for now. What do we have to eat?”
Her innocence is intoxicating, and I don’t know how long I’m going to be able to control myself.
“I had the staff bring in pizza, nachos, popcorn. All the traditional movie stuff, since I’m sure you never had it before.”
She bites her lip and shakes her head. I see a look of sadness cross her face, and she looks at me.
“Is it okay that I’m eating like this all the time? I was so regimented before and—”
“You are only to worry about your happiness. Understood?” I say, and I see the excitement light her eyes again.
She reaches out, takes a slice of pizza, and moans around the first bite. My cock throbs as I watch her tongue come out to lick her lip. Fuck, I’m not going to be able to last.
