Page 76 of Forbidden Dance
“Blitz, please,” I manage to say.
And he knows just what I need, increasing the pressure, diving in more deeply. And it happens, my muscles clamping down for the orgasm, lightning shooting through my body, sparked where we are joined. I hear myself crying out Blitz’s name and fat tears squeeze out of my eyes.
He brings me down easy, withdrawing slowly and gently, his kisses flowing back down my leg. I lie on the sofa with my arms crossed over my face. I’m not sure how he’ll feel about me crying.
Blitz leans back over and kisses the length of my forearm. When he sees the wetness, he gathers me up against him. “You okay, Princess?”
I nod against his chest. I’m not sure what it is about, maybe the bliss after so many years with little to hold on to. Returning to that emotional space I had to let go of when they took Gabriella away.
“Hey,” he says, sitting us up. “Talk to me.”
I’m ruining this moment, I know it. I shake my head. “Just old stuff.”
He goes still. “Did somebody hurt you once?”
“No,” I say quickly. “Never. No. It’s just been a long time.”
He cradles me against him. “That’s all right. We don’t have to do anything else.”
But I want to. I do. I shove all the old thoughts away and shift in his arms. “I think we do,” I say.
My hands go to his cheeks and I kiss him, hard and deep.
I don’t have to say that twice. Before I can figure out what’s happening, he’s swept me into his arms. He crosses the living room and heads through a doorway on the far side.
It’s dim, lit only by the light coming from the bathroom. The bed is enormous, four poster, and silks cascade down from it. “It’s a princess bed!” I say.
“I couldn’t have chosen it better myself,” he says. He nudges the sheer fabric aside and lays me on its surface. “Now I’m going to really look at you.”
Blitz tugs on the skirt until it’s down. He stands to toss it across a chair.
Then he’s back, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands running down my body, tracing every curve.
I’m surprisingly unembarrassed as he takes me in, eyes lighting on each part of me. Then he stands up, pulling his sweater over his head, and the shirt beneath.
I’ve seen him shirtless before, on the day with the Tappin’ Grandmas. He’s strong, muscled but not overly so, lean like a dancer should be.
Blitz kicks off his shoes and pulls his belt from his jeans. It jingles as it hits the floor.
I watch him quietly. It’s so different from seeing the pictures of him on the laptop. He’s here, his body shifting in the light, revealing himself to me.
My eyes threaten to tear up again. He’s really beautiful. I almost want to dance like this, skin to skin, and once the idea gets in my head, I can’t let it go.
I sit up. “Can we dance?” I ask. The room is outrageously large. We can do it easily around the bed.
He kicks off the rest of his clothes. “A naked waltz. Now that’s an idea.”
Blitz takes my hand and pulls me to him. Every place our body touches is like a caress, stirring and intimate.
He squeezes my hand, and we’re off, crossing the rug, then onto the surrounding hardwood floor. The steps are simple, just a few turns. My hair falls down my back, a gentle tickle, until he spins me out and sends it flying.
The air on my body is erotic and stimulating. When I turn back into him and our skin makes contact again, he holds me close. “You are so beautiful,” he says. “This is the most perfect moment I could have imagined.”
His mouth is warm on mine, the kiss full of tenderness and wonder. I hold on to his neck, and his hands grasp my thighs, pulling my legs up and around his hips.
He’s hard and pressing against me, and I feel almost dizzy as the need of him bolts through me. He walks us back to the bed and lays me back down on the cool sheets.
“Condom work for you?” he whispers against my ear.
