by Laina Kenney
As she pulled him past a startled Ellen, Anja said, “Make certain that Genessa gets enough time to give her speech at the end. I know she prepared one.” She could have said more, and would have liked to give more precise instructions, but she was afraid of getting drawn into a lengthy conversation. There just wasn’t time.
Zenn slowed as they neared a crowded area, but Anja pulled him along. His low chuckle made her cheeks burn as she quickly sidestepped the group of mothers wanting to offer their congratulations. She hoped her cheery wave would convey her thanks well enough. She couldn’t afford the time delay to stop and accept their accolades. The countdown clock was ticking to the accelerated beat of her heart.
Just a few more steps and they would be in the corridor heading toward the back of the building.
She continued on her course, tugging at his hand to make sure he followed at a good pace. She couldn’t have him dawdling when they were on such a short timeline.
His free hand roamed as they hurried along, teasing and touching, exciting her nerve endings until she was torn between laughter and a wild thrumming anticipation. When they raced up the metal stairs to her tiny dressing room, Zenn stroked once down her back. Her bodice loosened and she realized that he must have unzipped her costume gown.
As she shut the door behind him her dress slid down to pool on the floor in a pile of frothing fabric. She stood before him in her panties and stockings, still wearing her long satin gloves from their performance. She blinked in surprise. The room was full of red and white roses.
A flush suffused her body. The unmistakable lust in his gaze sent hot and cold shivers up her spine.
“Lock the door.”
Had his voice always been so deep and rough?
Her hands trembled on the lock.
Zenn’s hot mouth was on the back of her neck. It stole her concentration and made her knees quake. Finally the lock clicked into place and his hands turned her body to position her in front of him facing the dressing table.
The dim light cast their dark silhouettes on the wall and she watched, fascinated, as his shadow arm reached out and his hot hand pressed against her back.
“Bend at the waist. Rest your pretty breasts on the table.”
She moaned.
Her shadow obeyed eagerly. Zenn had said five minutes, but if she had to wait the full five minutes she would be begging him for it.
He ran his hands up and down over her back and thighs, rubbing light swirling designs on her buttocks and then repeating the longer strokes. He alternated back and forth until her skin prickled with sensitivity but he didn’t move any closer to the hot female cleft that needed his attention so desperately. The damned man was never in a rush. Anja wriggled and he slapped once hard.
“Hold still.”
His voice was firm and it got to her. She didn’t know how she was supposed to keep herself from moving when her blood was sizzling in her veins. She wanted another spanking. She wanted his cock inside her rocking her into a cosmic orgasm. She didn’t know what she wanted except that she wanted him to hurry up and give it to her.
His long fingers slid up and into her lush wetness and she cried out. He moved them back and forth easing the desperate ache and giving her pleasure, but it just wasn’t enough.
His thumb abraded her tender clit once, twice, and then just rested there with a heavy pressure.
Anja panted.
“You’re so wet, sugar girl. Always so wet. Such a good girl,” he crooned.
His strong, demanding hands drove her higher. Her breasts pressed against the smooth cool wood of the tabletop and she rested her cheek on a silk scarf she had dropped there earlier having rejected it as an accessory.
The light perfume of the roses filled her head and she wondered about the long line of performers who had used this room before her. Had there been other love affairs carried on within these old walls? Had other dancers, singers, and actors struggled together in a dizzying sexual haze for exactly the right position, the ultimate sensation to eclipse even the bright joy of performance?
The sound of his zipper was loud in the silence. Her pussy rippled and she felt such a sense of relief that she almost thanked him. Yes, that was what she needed. She needed his thick penetration, his fierce possession and his total attention to their shared pleasure.
The blunt, hot head of his cock rooted for the perfect position and held still at her gate. Her body flexed instinctively to seek him but his grip on her hips kept her from moving. The only movement she could manage was to flutter her pussy lips around him in wordless invitation, but he didn’t stir.
Anja willed him to move. She knew he would never punish her for asking for what she needed even if he made her wait for it, but she yearned for more than she could put into words. She felt her spirit rise to reach for him.
“Yes.” His voice strained over the word. “Yes, I can feel you, Anja. I can feel you wanting me.” He stroked up and down against her lower lips, but didn’t enter.
“I want you inside me, but this is more. I need you.”
“Say it again.”
“I need you. I love you. I want you inside me forever, Zenn.” He was driving her mad with this tender teasing. She needed more, more, more.
“Just the way I need you. There is no limit to the things I want to do to you. With you. For you. The only limit would be physical exhaustion or you, if you use your safe word. If you say no, it stops.”
He rocked against her very gently and she caught her breath.
“Cannot say no,” she murmured. “No safe words. No limits.”
He stilled. “No limits?” His hands flexed where he gripped her hips. He was holding back, but she could feel the heat of his body behind her. His skin was burning hot and a bead of his sweat dripped onto her back.
“No limits to us.” She didn’t recognize her own voice, but the words burst from her heart. “No limits to what we can be.”
“I heard forever, and I heard no limits. You’re stuck with me, sugar girl.”
He surged forward, parting the tender folds and forging inside. Anja shrieked at the glorious fullness as sensation streaked through her.
He pulled out slowly then pushed in. The top of the table was warming and growing slippery from the heat they generated together. His movements shifted her body and he tightened the grip of his hands to anchor her hips with greater security.
The hulking male shadow on the wall was barely moving but the fiery sensation in her core was extreme. Her body was heating from the inside out like an incendiary device readying for the inevitable explosion.
He was circling, circling with ruthless discipline until she was nearly driven mad then one hard center stroke electrified her. He repeated the inflammatory rhythm, circle, circle, stroke until every breath she took was long and gasping. There was no air in the room. She was beyond pain, steeped in pleasure, floating in a bliss fueled by the erotic perfume of roses and Zenn.
“Relax, Anja. Give yourself to me.”
She moaned and tossed her head. Her long hair was sticking to her neck. Behind her Zenn’s breathing was deep and even, like a distance runner just hitting his stride while she could barely drag in enough air to stay conscious.
He was holding her on a fine edge, perfecting his delicious pattern, never giving enough for her to reach the peak she craved. It went on and on, driving higher then slowing until she stopped struggling against his tempo and just rode the rolling waves.
When her shoulders relaxed, the tension in her thighs increased and so did Zenn’s pace. He was pushing her limits, taking her to a place she had never been, shadows and flashing fireworks blazing up her spine and making her belly tingle. She screamed out his name like a talisman as the explosion detonated in her body and her hot core gripped him fiercely.
His breathing changed and became labored, but he kept up his devastating rhythm until sweat dripped down onto her spine and she was sobbing his name. She would beg him to stop but she had said no limits
.
Finally, with one full thrust, he groaned and held deep. She heard his hoarse voice and felt his searing release pumping inside her body. It pushed her into a blazing volcanic deliverance that dimmed her thoughts and blurred her vision.
His dark shadow fell and one big hand slapped down on the table in front of her face. His elbow locked and he braced himself. She could feel him shaking over her, or maybe they both were shaking. She could still feel him pulsing hot inside her. In her whirling thoughts, she believed she could feel his spirit hunched protectively over hers. She didn’t try to pull back or control the new sensation. She simply basked in the warm intimacy of the feeling.
“I never knew,” she managed finally and he blew out a shaky laugh.
His lips found her shoulder blade and lingered for a long moment.
“Sugar girl, you did me in.” He nudged her where they were still locked together. She twitched around him. “It’s rare, what we can give to each other. I’ve heard rumors…but I didn’t know whether to believe. Not all the way to my soul, the way I know now.”
She rubbed her cheek on the damp silk.
“All the way to my soul,” she agreed.
He dropped a quick kiss on her upturned cheek and slowly pulled out.
“I can’t believe I’m going to say this, but it’s time to get dressed, sugar. We didn’t make the curtain call, that’s for damned sure, but we can still make it to the after-party and show Genessa and your other students our support.”
Anja hated to move but she knew he was right. She straightened gingerly, testing her ability to stand without support. She ran a loving hand over the slick wood. She was going to buy that old table and take it home. It was the perfect height.
She excused herself and made her way on shaking legs to the tiny bathroom for a moment then went to the old wardrobe for clean clothes. After donning fresh underthings, she pulled out a short black dress and shimmied into it. The black patent designer heels that went with it had cost her several hundred dollars, but she felt the price was well worth it.
Zenn was already in his tuxedo, and waiting near the door. His hair was falling rakishly over one eyebrow. He looked like he had spent the last week in bed with a greedy lover, but he wore the look well. She didn’t have the energy to resent how easy it was for men to recover from a chance encounter. It took much longer for her.
He watched her dressing with blatant male interest.
“And if Alyo understands what we have done, you would not mind, I think,” she said, testing the waters.
Zenn had the grace to look sheepish.
He pulled her in for a quick smacking kiss and let her go.
“Yeah, I want him to know that you’re mine. I wouldn’t mind if he headed straight back to New York City tonight.”
She continued to brush out her long hair.
“You will need to work on your jealousy.”
He smiled and her heart skipped in her chest at the loving look on his hard face.
“I’ll work on any damned thing you like.”
She eyed him suspiciously.
“You’re being very agreeable, for such a Dominant male,” she said.
“I’m making progress negotiating with my best girl. I know I’m going to win her over, and I’m feeling mellow.”
Anja leaned close to the mirror to apply her lipstick. The woman looking back was pink cheeked and smiling. He was definitely winning her over. Anja put down the hairbrush and lipstick and turned to face him.
Zenn offered his arm.
“May I escort you to the party, my lady?”
She giggled. She grabbed her beaded bag and took his arm with a flourish. She would let him lead her anywhere.
THE END
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Laina Kenney is a classically trained singer/instructor with a regular job and a deep love of the written word. Her family is supportive of (or perhaps just resigned to) a house full of books in every genre, with ancient history and romance taking up the majority of the space. She cheerfully admits to having a bizarre sense of humor and enough shiny accessories for any ten women. One of the greatest joys in her life is exploring the wonder of testosterone, both in prose and in person.
For all titles by Laina Kenney, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/laina-kenney
Siren Publishing, Inc.
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