Page 84 of Filthy Dirty Dom

"Like this?" she replied, a mischievous glint in her eye as she moved swiftly, imitating the disarming move he'd just demonstrated. She managed to wrestle his mock weapon from his grip, her triumphant grin belying the seriousness of the lesson.

"Like that," he conceded, his own grin mirroring hers. "Only you might want to avoid smiling when you disarm an enemy. Tends to lessen the effect."

Leslie shot back a playful glare, flipping the stick in her hand and tossing it back to him. "What if my smile is disarmingly charming?" she teased, her words eliciting another burst of laughter from Alex.

"Then I suppose your enemies are in trouble," he conceded.

As they pressed on, the air between them thickened, filled with unspoken words and shared emotions. Their laughter began to fade as the intensity of their training caught up with them. Gasping for breath, they stood mere inches apart, the heat of exertion radiating off their bodies. Alex's heart thudded in his chest, and not entirely from the physical exertion. He couldn't shake off the undeniable spark that arced between them with each shared glance, each touch, each passing moment.

"You've got a smudge..." Alex said, reaching out to gently brush away a streak of dirt marring her cheek. His fingers grazed her warm skin, and she shivered at his touch. His eyes were drawn to her lips, parted slightly as she caught her breath. He saw the same spark reflected in her eyes, the same electricity that coursed through his veins.

Leslie was acutely aware that their training session had suddenly morphed into something else. It was a primal dance, a familiar game of push and pull that was as exhilarating as it was dangerous. The tension between them was palpable, a living entity that wound around them, drawing them closer.

Leslie bit her lip, her gaze darting between Alex's eyes and his lips.

"Alex..."

"Leslie." Alex's voice was low and smoky. Her eyes fluttered shut, her chest heaving. Taking advantage of the electrified silence, he drew her closer, his firm hand on her waist guiding her until their bodies were flush against each other. Their combined heat seeped through the thin fabric separating them.

His hand on her waist began a scorching trail upwards, his fingers leisurely exploring her curves. His touch was light, yet insistent, teasing the edge of her sleeveless shirt and leaving a fiery path on her bare skin. He watched her lips part as the air left her in a shuddering exhale, her response making his desire for her burn even brighter.

Leslie's eyes fluttered open, her fingers instinctively moving to rest against his chest. Underneath her touch, she felt the steady thud of his heart, a rhythm that synced with her own racing pulse.

Alex, in response, tilted her chin upwards, locking onto her gaze. His eyes were an open book, each page filled with raw desire that mirrored her own. "Leslie," he breathed, his voice low and laden with intent. "I'm going to kiss you."

Without waiting for her response, he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a heated kiss. The intensity of his action left her reeling, a whimper of surprise escaping her. But it didn't take long for her to reciprocate, her fingers clutching at his shirt as she returned the kiss with equal fervor.

Their bodies moved in a rhythm, each touch, each caress igniting a flame that was threatening to consume them whole. Their yearning for each other spilled over, the air around them pulsating with raw, primal desire.

Alex’s heart throbbed fiercely, the intensity of his desire overwhelming him. Every gasp that slipped past her lips, every shudder that coursed through her body under his touch was an affirmation of the potent connection they shared.

With a growl of want, his hand slid under her shirt, and the sensation of her smooth skin under his fingertips sent a jolt of arousal through him. Each responsive gasp and whimper from her sent a rush of primal satisfaction coursing through him.

"Alex," Leslie murmured his name again, music to his ears, her voice trembling under the onslaught of sensations he was making her feel. Her pleading tone only stoked his desire further, a siren's call he was helpless against. He was her undoing, and she was his.

Without breaking eye contact, he guided her towards a cluster of rocks, one that would shield them should someone approach. He sat on the ground with his back resting against one of the bigger rocks. He pulled her into his lap, her body perfectly aligned with his.

As she began to move against him, a low groan of pleasure escaped him. But he wanted more—more of her, more of this intoxicating dance they were wrapped in. With a swift move, he unzipped his jeans, his gaze never leaving hers.

"If you want it, it's yours," he told her, his voice laced with a raw need that mirrored the desire blazing in her eyes. His fingers traced a tantalizing path over her lips. “Because I want it, baby girl. I want my cock between these gorgeous lips of yours.”

Leslie licked her lips, then moved to his side. He lifted his hips, helping her as she eased his jeans and underwear down to his thighs. Looking awestruck, she stared at his cock for several complimentary moments before she reached out to stroke him. Her tentative exploration, her cautious yet curious touch elicited a raw groan from him, each stroke amplifying his desire. The sight of her, focused on him, was utterly captivating.

She leaned in, her breath washing over him, making him shudder. He wound a hand into her hair, his fingers tightening in a firm yet careful grip. He was guiding her, yet he was acutely aware of the power she held over him - the power to bring him to the brink, to make him surrender to the waves of pleasure.

As she wrapped her lips around him, a ragged moan ripped through his throat, the sensation of her mouth on him sending sparks of pleasure radiating through his body. Her every move, every stroke, every suck and lick were a sweet torture he willingly surrendered to. The sensation of her lips, her mouth around him, pushed him closer to the edge. His hand, still tangled in her hair, tightened slightly as a moan of pleasure escaped his lips. The control he had, the power to guide her movements, was heady, the intoxicating allure of dominance and surrender playing in perfect harmony.

Every whimper and every soft sigh she released sounded like the sweetest melody. His grip in her hair was a lifeline, grounding him, keeping him tethered to reality amidst the haze of pleasure.

But then, the rhythm faltered. A muffled gag, a sharp intake of breath - she was struggling. His heart clenched, the raw need in him battling with the protective instinct that roared to life. He pulled her off him, his grip loosening as he guided her upwards. The sudden absence of her warmth made him groan, the sound drowned by the pounding of his heart.

She gasped for breath, her chest heaving, the struggle evident in her flushed features. For a moment, he just watched her, his heart thrumming with a mix of concern and unfulfilled desire. Despite the raging need within him, her comfort, her well-being was paramount.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice husky, laced with a concern that made her eyes soften. He watched as she nodded, a slow smile spreading on her lips, her body relaxing against him. “You’re a lot to handle. I’m going to need a lot of practice.”

He grinned and reached up to brush a loose strand of hair from her face, his touch gentle, a stark contrast to the raw desire that still pulsed between them.

She pulled away from him. “I want to keep going.”

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