Black Butterfly

by Tiffany Patterson

  “Mine,” he growled before lifting her to push her dress up to her waist, and slamming his lips back over hers. Stacey felt his fingers as they gripped the edges of her black lace panties and pulled. She heard the tearing sound of her panties before Andre pulled her back down from the counter, placed her feet on the floor, and spun her around so her back was to him. With deft movements, Andre inserted his foot between her legs, pushing them wider. Gripping her waist with one hand and pulling her head back by her hair so she had no choice but to look at them both in the huge bathroom mirror, he looked her directly in the eye as he pushed his hard cock into her wet core.

  “You... are…mine!” He claimed her with each thrust of his hips. “Say it!” he demanded as he stared at her in the mirror.

  Stacey was so far gone, she couldn’t do anything but stare at his handsome face in the mirror and receive all that he was giving her. The absolute look of possession in his eyes made her cream even more.

  “Ohhhh, Fuck, Andre!” she yelled when he adjusted his hips to hit her g-spot.

  The hand that rested on her hip moved around to pluck and rub her clit. “Say it!” he demanded again, yanking her head back and biting her earlobe.

  “Andre!” Stacey yelled, still not giving him what he wanted.

  He began thrusting into her with even more wild abandon. They both moaned and groaned, not caring that they were at a gala and people could possibly hear them.

  Andre let the hand that was in Stacey’s hair move around to wrap around her neck from the front. He squeezed, applying pressure to the sides of her neck as he continued to pound into her while rubbing her clit.

  Stacey couldn’t feel anything but the pleasure he was giving her. Her entire world shrunk down to the places on her body where Andre was touching her.

  “Ooohhhh, Gooood,” she moaned when the pleasure became almost unbearable as he squeezed her neck again.

  “Say it, dammit!” he growled in her ear when he released some of the pressure off her neck, still holding onto it.

  “Yours! I’m yours!” she screamed as wave after wave of intense euphoria rippled through her body. Everything in front of Stacey went black as the orgasm took over her entire body.

  “Fuuuuck! I’m yours Andre!” she yelled.

  “Mine!” Andre yelled before releasing her neck and pulling her head back to press another hard kiss to her lips as he came. He pumped wildly as he spilled his seed into her.

  When he was done, he let his arms fall to her waist and rested his head in the crook of her neck. Both were panting as they struggled to catch their breath.

  After a long while, Andre finally withdrew from her and stepped back, giving her space to adjust her dress. He grabbed a few paper towels and went to wipe Stacey down.

  “I can do that,” she said half embarrassed by the lewd way she’d just behaved.

  Andre couldn’t give a shit though. “No,” he said simply, pushing her hand away and stooping down on one knee to wipe away their mixed fluids that dripped from her body. Finishing that task, he picked up her shredded panties from the floor and stuffed them into his pocket. For the first time that night, he gave her his signature smirk and wink.

  “Your driver will drop off your...date,” he spit out the last word, “and deliver you to my condo once you leave.” He adjusted his own clothing.

  “And what about your date?” Stacey asked, saying the last word just as tersely, not even mentioning that she’d arrived alone and David wasn’t really her date.

  “I’ll worry about her,” he stated pulling her into his arms.

  “And what is that supposed to mean?” she asked, pressing her hands to his chest and giving him a suspicious look.

  “It means that I meant it when I said you were mine. You don’t need to worry about her,” he answered, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of her mouth.

  It was the exact opposite of the hard kisses he’d given her just a few moments ago, and yet, they had the same effect on Stacey. This man’s touch was addictive whether hard, soft, or somewhere in between. Stacey sighed in satisfaction.

  “You should walk out first,” she told him, referring to their exit.

  Andre turned and looked at the door, and then back at her regretfully, as if he didn’t want to leave. Stacey knew that feeling because she sure as hell didn’t want him to leave either.

  “My place. Tonight. And if that motherfucker touches you…” he trailed off, giving her a look she knew spelled trouble for David or any man who might be tempted to try and touch her.

  “He won’t. Now go. People are probably looking for you,” she said, raising to press a kiss to his lips.

  Andre nodded. “My place. Tonight,” he reminded her before turning and leaving.

  Andre strolled out of the bathroom with his hands in his pockets, whistling. Stopping at the entrance, he tipped the attendant a few hundred for making sure no one entered the bathroom, and for keeping quiet. The man stoically accepted the tip and nodded. Rounding the corner, he saw his mother making her way to where the stage area had been set up. She was beginning to make her introductions of the donors of the event and announce the early tally of the amount raised from tonight’s event.

  “Hey, I thought I lost you,” Maria said as she made her way through the crowd towards him. Andre flinched at her touch. After being with Stacey, he didn’t want to feel the touch of any other woman but her. A hint of guilt touched his chest as he thought about how he’d essentially used Maria to forget about Stacey, and then just had some of the steamiest sex he’d ever had in his life in the bathroom while Maria waited out here for him.

  “No, you didn’t. Let’s mingle for a little while. There’s some people I need to speak with,” he stated, pulling her further away from the bathroom.

  Chapter 14

  Stacey was ready to get out of there. Her skin tingled as she thought about her earlier encounter with Andre in the bathroom. After he’d left, it took her a few minutes to orient herself enough to reapply her makeup, fix her clothing, and head back out to the gala. She danced a few more times with David, feeling guilty the whole time as he tried to make conversation and even slip her his number. She had to let him down gently, and then went in search of Mercedes and Devyn. She stayed close to her friends for the rest of the evening, even when Andre appeared in their little circle with his date in tow, giving her such a heated gaze she knew if she were a few shades lighter she’d be seen blushing. He’d even been so bold as to stick his arm through the circle and ask her to dance, not taking no for an answer. The entire time during their dance, he leaned down and whispered exactly what he was going to do to her once they were back at his condo. It took all her years of training as a dancer to not let her face give away the intense emotions his whispered words were setting off.

  As she waited by the entryway for her driver, Stacey closed her eyes and sighed thinking of the way her skin had tingled as Andre’s breath grazed her neck.

  “Well, fancy seeing you out here. What’s the matter, no one else’s man want to fuck you in the bathroom?”

  Stacey’s eyes widened as she spun around at the nasty comments from the woman behind her. There stood Andre’s date, Maria, shooting daggers at her with her eyes.

  “Excuse me?” Stacey asked half shocked and half angry.

  “You heard me. You don’t think I know what the hell you two were doing when you both conveniently disappeared? What type of slut fucks someone else’s man in the bathroom at a gala?” Maria questioned just above a whisper, her lips turned into a snarl.

  Stacey’s cheeks flamed with embarrassment. Part of her was ashamed at what had gone on between her and Andre, but not nearly enough to let this woman stand here and insult her.

  “Look, I’m sorry about what happened tonight. I had no intention of any of that happening, but I’m not about to stand here and let you insult me. You have a problem, then you really need to take it up with the person you claim is your man,” Stacey defended herself. She was not in t
he mood to put up with personal attacks and insults from a woman who didn’t know anything about her.

  “He doesn’t want you. He may enjoy fucking you for now, but it won’t last. Why would he want someone like you? You’re just a tramp who spreads her legs. You black—”

  “That’s ENOUGH!” Andre roared behind Maria.

  Both women turned and stared wide-eyed at Andre who looked angry enough to have smoke coming out of his ears. Even though his anger wasn’t directed at her, Stacey nearly flinched at the cold stare he gave Maria. His nostrils flared, and his lips curled into a harsh frown. He took a step towards Maria and she had the good sense to step back.

  “Don’t you dare finish that fucking sentence!” he snarled through gritted teeth. “We’re leaving now!” He grabbed her arm, not hard, but enough to pull her towards the awaiting driver. When Maria got in the car, he slammed the door, told the driver something, and walked back to Stacey.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, pulling her towards her car and driver. After giving the driver his address he instructed him to make sure to drive safely and deliver her to his condo, where he’d already instructed his doorman to let her up.

  Stacey watched through the window of her town car as Andre got into the same car where Maria was. The look of pure enmity was written all over Andre’s face. She knew instinctively that, that was one car ride Maria would not enjoy.

  ****

  “Andre, I’m sorry…” Maria pleaded as soon as they reached her hotel suite.

  He’d been silent the entire car ride, keeping his distance from her and not even looking at her as they made their way to her hotel. Once they arrived, he’d gotten out the vehicle, not even giving a second glance at her as he strolled to the elevator.

  “What you said tonight was disgusting, rude, and way the fuck out of line. If you’re angry about what happened at the gala, then you take that shit out on me. She is none of your fucking business. As far as I am concerned, we are done now and forever. Have a safe trip back to Boston.” He turned to walk away when he was stopped by her hand on his arm.

  “Don’t fucking touch me!” he barked at her causing Maria to recoil.

  “Andre, please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it the way it came out. I was just so angry—”

  “You’re angry, take it out on me. Not her. I don’t even want to think about what you would have said if I hadn’t walked up. But it doesn’t matter. You are no longer my problem and I am no longer yours. Stay the hell away from me,” he ordered before turning and striding down the hallway with purpose. Punching the down button for the elevator, he gave her one last hard glare before entering.

  Andre barely gave a second thought to the slamming of the suite door he heard as the elevator doors shut. His thoughts had already turned to the woman who awaited him at his condo. He wanted to make sure she was okay and that Maria’s words hadn’t gotten to her.

  “Hey, I’m so—” Andre’s apology was cut off by Stacey’s lips on his. He instantaneously wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her to him. The anger he’d felt since he came upon Maria berating her slowly dissolved, replaced by burning need to have this woman beneath him, calling his name as he soared into her.

  “F-fuck!” he whispered when Stacey pulled his head down and ran her tongue along the outer shell of his ear.

  “I don’t want to talk about her. I want you to fuck me until I can’t move,” Stacey whispered.

  Her words had his cock standing at complete attention. “Anyway you want it, baby,” Andre responded, lifting her legs to wrap around his waist. Even though he’d just had this woman less than two hours ago, he couldn’t hold out long enough to make it to his bedroom. Turning, he pinned her back against the wall and let her assist in getting his own pants unbuttoned. Within seconds, his cock was free and Andre slammed into her awaiting core. His entrance was made easier due to their earlier encounter which resulted in her panties now being in his back pocket instead of the acting as a barrier.

  “Andre!” Stacey screamed as he surged into her. “Fuck! You feel so goood!” she moaned.

  “Did you miss me, baby?” Andre asked, his lips grazing hers as his hips continued to work their magic on her wet pussy.

  “Mmmm, God yes!” she shouted.

  Andre moved his arms to hook her legs over his elbows, spreading her wider for his assault. He canted his hips so that he made contact with her clit on every stroke.

  “God, baby, I missed your tight pussy wrapped around by cock. Squeezing me,” he groaned in her ear.

  “I’m coming,” Stacey moaned.

  The tightening of her walls around his cock sent off his own orgasm, and before he knew it, he was coming. Andre pounded his fist into the wall behind her as he came, throwing his head back. His hips continued to pump in and out of her releasing every drop of his cum inside her.

  “There’s a lot more where that came from. We’ve got three weeks to make up for,” Andre panted against Stacey’s lips. He felt her lips turn up into a smile against his.

  “Four. Counting the week you were in Boston. Lead the way, Mr. Collins,” Stacey replied, giggling as Andre swatted her on the ass and carried her to his bedroom. Over the next few hours, they both showed each other how much they’d missed one another.

  “I’m not quitting,” Stacey said hours later as her back rested against Andre’s chest, as they sat in his free standing tub.

  They’d gone at each other for hours before Andre carried Stacey into his huge contemporary styled, black and white bathroom, and placed her in the tub. Now, they sat in the tub soaking and talking about everything that’d gone on in the last few weeks. Andre admitted that he’d been more than his fair share of grumpy, and had taken it out on his staff. He also informed her that tonight had been the first time he’d seen Maria or any other woman since their break up, and he’d only done it because he heard she was bringing a date to the gala.

  For her part, Stacey admitted that she’d picked up the phone numerous times to call him, but her pride had gotten in the way. She knew they needed to discuss the reason they’d had the blow up to begin with.

  She felt his grip tighten around her midsection at her words. Although she couldn’t see him, she knew his jaw was clenched tight as he contemplated what she’d just said. Without looking, she reached up and let her fingers massage his jaw to loosen it up.

  “You’re going to crack a tooth if you keep grinding your jaw like that,” she teased. “Loosen up.” She felt the muscles in his jaw release just a tiny bit.

  Andre sighed. “This is important to you?” he asked, knowing the answer but still wanting to hear it from her mouth.

  Stacey nodded. She brought one of his hands to her lips, kissing his each finger before raising her right knee and moving his fingers to graze over the raised skin that created a scar.

  Stacey took a deep breath before closing her eyes, and she began talking, “I was twenty-two years old and a soloist at the Pacific Northwest Ballet with dreams of working my way up to be a principal. We were performing a series of steps and leaps, preparing for the upcoming season and getting ready for performances. We spent upwards of six hours a day on our toes. It was hard, but I couldn’t see myself doing anything else. A few weeks into preparing for the fall and winter season I felt some pain, and after putting it off, I finally went to get some x-rays. I had a stress fracture in my right leg, but I kept it to myself. Ballet looks beautiful and graceful, but we spend hour upon grueling hour to make every move from the hardest leap to the lift of each finger, look effortless. We dance in pain. It’s a part of ballet. Dancers practice and perform on broken toes, sprained ankles, and stress fractures. Young dancers, especially, don’t complain because for every one of us who made it, there’s a hundred more ready to take our spot. So, we perform on broken bodies and smile through the pain.”

  She stopped to turn to look at Andre as she continued. She could see his face soften as he listened intently.

  “That’s what I did. I perf
ormed on my stress fracture. One day while in practice, in an attempt to overcompensate, I landed wrong in a leap I’d done thousands of times. A pas de chat. Before I knew what happened, I was on the floor writhing in pain as my knee bent awkwardly.” Stacey shuddered, reliving the moment her dreams came crashing down around her.

  Andre’s arms came up around her waist, pulling her towards him in comfort. He lightly pressed a kiss to her forehead, but remained quiet.

  “One of my quadricep muscles jammed my knee cap out of place. Even when the doctors told me that I’d probably never dance at the professional level again, I didn’t believe them. I rehabbed for nearly a year after surgery, but never got back to where I was. It took a long time for me to recover physically and emotionally. I—” she paused, not wanting to talk about the spiral she went into the year after her dance career ended.

  “It took a long time to figure out who I was without ballet. When I found burlesque, it healed a part me. I found a world where women enjoyed performance as much as I did, but didn’t care that my jumps weren’t as high as they once were, or that my body had changed somewhat from the size zero and I gained some hips and ass. The dancers there embraced me and my scars. I get to do what I love through burlesque.” She paused, staring up into his vibrant blue eyes. “I was forced to retire from one dance career long before I was ready…”

  Andre stared down at her with such tenderness in his eyes it made her shiver. He placed another kiss to her forehead and Stacey’s heart melted.

  Goddamn forehead kisses, she thought, remembering her conversation with Devyn and Mercedes.

  “Is that what your tattoo stands for?”

  Stacey’s eye widened, shocked he’d made the connection between her butterfly tattoo and the story she’d just told him. She nodded.

  “Yes, butterflies represent transformation, and are beautiful to look at once they take flight.”