One Last Dance (20 page)

For a moment, Henry remained
still, hands at his sides. Sophie wasn’t deterred. She moved her mouth from one
corner of his lips to the other, her tongue touching the seam lightly before
pushing in. She licked at his teeth, pressing her breasts against the hard wall
of his chest.

She slid her hands into his hair
and held him firmly as she sucked at his lower lip. Henry groaned, shifting
against her. Sophie sensed him holding back and poured every ounce of her
frustration and desire and, yes, love, into the kiss.

And then his hands came up,
gripping her hips tightly, and whatever dam he’d constructed against what he
was feeling broke. His tongue plunged into her mouth, forceful, demanding,
claiming.

He kneaded the flesh of her hips
before pushing beneath the soft cotton of her shirt, stroking up her back. His
touch burned as he trailed rough fingers along her spine. Sophie gasped,
dragging her mouth from his to nip at the strong line of his jaw.

His hands molded her ribs, thumbs
caressing the undersides of her breasts, then sliding around until he could cup
them. He teased her nipples, bringing them to hard, throbbing peaks. Sophie
arched her spine, pressing herself harder against his hand, shuddering as the
fire that had been burning within her turned sweet and pulsing.

Sophie’s mouth returned to
Henry’s. She couldn’t get enough of him, the taste of his tongue, the scent of
his skin, the feel of his body beneath her hands. She pushed at the suit
jacket, forcing him to release her long enough to shrug it off. Their mouths
never lost contact, nipping, licking.

As if he needed to be touching
her as badly as she craved him, Henry’s hands returned to her hips, sliding
beneath the thin, loose material of her pants, dipping into her underwear to
cup the smooth globes of her ass. He tightened his grip, lifting her against
him, rocking his hips, rubbing the steely length of his erection against her
belly.

“Sophie, Christ, dolce, I need
you.” His words were strangled. He pressed his forehead hard to hers, tongue
touching the corner of her mouth fleetingly.

“Henry,” she moaned. Sophie
tugged at the buttons on his dress shirt, heedless in her haste, popping
several off. The tiny plastic discs pinged to the floor, skittering away into
the shadows.

When her fingers finally touched
warm, smooth skin, they both gasped. Sophie felt as if it had been weeks since
she’d touched him last. Months. Less than a week away from him and it felt so
inexorably long. She slid her fingers through the mat of his chest hair,
tugging gently, curling the coarse hair around her fingers.

Henry growled low in his throat,
pushing his hips into her. Sophie’s breath caught. She trailed her hands down
further, caressing the taut, ridged muscles of his belly, dipping into the well
of his navel. She traced the line of muscle from his hip to his groin, her
fingertips catching up in his waistband.

“The windows,” Henry murmured,
yanking the neck of her t-shirt wide to nibble her collarbone. His tongue
rasped wet velvet against her throat.

Sophie shook her head. It took
her brain, drenched with love and lust in equal parts, a moment to process his
words. Her eyes flicked to the huge, storefront windows and then moved back to
Henry.

“We can turn off the lights.” Her
voice was breathless in the dimness. Henry shook his head, fingers stroking
tantalizingly between the cheeks of her ass. Sophie shivered at the foreign
touch.

“I want to see you, Sophie.”

Desire clenched in her gut. She
bit her lip. “Shutters!” She’d almost forgotten the security shutters. She’d
opened them when she came in, force of habit. It was part of her ritual
whenever she opened the studio, but they would block all but the most
determined peeper.

Henry pulled his hands free of
her pants and she whirled, practically running to the bank of switches on the
wall that would close the shutters. She flipped them and hurried back to Henry
as the whirring of the motor began, not even waiting until they were closed
completely before she whipped her shirt off over her head.

“Come here,” he commanded, arms
open. His shirt hung at his elbows, doing little more than dangling from his
golden cufflinks. Sophie obeyed immediately, eagerly, sliding into his warm
embrace.

The feel of his skin against hers
made her breasts ache and throb. She rubbed against him like a cat, peppering
his chest and shoulders with kisses. Henry stroked the hair away from her face,
his strong fingers curling along her jaw, and tilted her head.

He slanted his mouth over hers,
tongue teasing and demanding at the same time. Sophie kissed him back, giving
him her all as her fingers worked quickly at his fly. Her pussy was wet and
ready for him. She could think of nothing but taking him inside her, as deep as
he could go.

Henry stroked her shoulders,
sliding the straps of her bra down her arms. He made short work of the hooks
and pulled the silky garment away from her body, dropping it to the floor. Next
went her yoga pants and panties, pushed down swiftly over the curves of her
hips and thighs, dropping to her feet.

Sophie whimpered in
disappointment as he stepped back from her, his dark eyes hot on her naked
body. “Let me see you, Sophie.”

She dropped her hands to her
sides and lifted her chin, kicking away the last of her garments to stand,
completely bare, in front of him. She had already bared her heart to him, what
was a little skin? Especially since it was skin he was already so intimately
acquainted with.

His big hands stroked her face
and neck, gliding over her shoulders and down her arms. “Sophie, I...” His
voice cracked. He cleared his throat, staring into her eyes. Then his gaze
dropped to her body. With a sigh, he began again.

“I wish you could see what I see.
So beautiful,” he murmured, stroking back up to her collar bone and then
continuing downward over her breasts and belly. Sophie shuddered, both from the
stroking, sensual touches and the heated weight of his gaze on her body. His
eyes flickered from her pussy, to her face, and then over her shoulder. Henry
groaned as if he were in pain and spun her around.

Sophie gasped, her eyes widening
in surprise as Henry grabbed her elbows and drew her back against the hard
length of his body, pinning her against his broad chest. In the wall of mirrors
opposite them, he caught her eye.

“Look, dolce. See how gorgeous
you are.”

Sophie looked, her breath ragged
in her throat. Even knowing it was her, she almost couldn’t recognize the woman
she saw in the mirrors. She’d seen countless photos and videos of herself
throughout her career. Studying tapes of her performances helped her improve.

She’d always thought she was
pretty, in a girl-next-door sort of way. Even occasionally beautiful, in
certain angles or shots. But never this. Never sensual and... yes, gorgeous.
Her head rested back against Henry’s muscled chest, the line of her throat
arched, her eyes glittering and her mouth soft, wet and swollen from his kiss.

Her hair tumbled in dark waves
around her naked shoulders, framing her flushed cheeks. Henry’s grip on her
elbows thrust her chest forward, the pale mounds of her breasts tipped with the
taut buds of her nipples heaving with her uneven breaths. Privately, she’d
always thought herself a little small up top.

As a dancer, it had been
considered beneficial, and yet it had still bothered her a little. But looking
at herself now, she could see the beauty in the graceful curves of her breasts,
how the line of her body flowed from shoulder, to breast, down her ribcage to
the flare of her hips.

Henry released her elbows and
splayed his hands over her belly. “Do you see what I see?” His lips brushed her
ear, the side of her throat. He bit the smooth skin of her shoulder gently, his
strong teeth sinking in just deep enough to send a  little sting along her
nerve endings.

Sophie could only nod, transfixed
not only by the sight of her own body, but the fact of him behind her. Before
her was a passionate, powerful woman in the arms of a passionate, powerful man.
She slid her hands up his arms, slowly, enjoying the feel of the crisp hair on
his forearms and the taut flex of muscle beneath his warm skin. She reached
behind her, watching her own movements in the mirror as she curled her fingers
into his hair.

In the mirror she watched as
Henry slid one hand up to knead her breast, his broad fingers rolling the stiff
peak until she arched into the touch. His mouth touched the curve of her
throat, his tongue swiping quickly before he sucked at her skin.

When his other hand slipped down
between her legs, Sophie gasped, eyes widening as he probed her slit with
insistent fingers. She bit her lip, spreading her legs, giving Henry better
access to her throbbing sex and watching as he caressed her wet flesh, using
his fingers to open her lips and spread the slick moisture of her body up over
the sensitive button of her clit.

Pleasure spiked through her as he
rubbed at the pulsing bundle of nerves. “Henry!”

“What do you see, dolce? Tell
me.” His hand dipped lower, the rough pads of his fingertips teasingly circling
the entrance to her snug sheath.

She rose onto her toes, hips
bucking, trying to coax him into her body. But he just kept stroking and
teasing. Two could play that game! A fierce grin split Sophie’s face as she
pressed backward, pinning the heavy length of Henry’s cock between them as she
undulated.

He groaned. Sophie’s grin
widened. She found his eyes in the mirror.

“Us. I see
us
, Henry.”

His eyes blazed at her words.
Sophie whimpered as he withdrew his hand from between her thighs. He cupped her
shoulders, jerking his chin at the mirror, at the barre before her. He stroked
her shoulders with strong hands.

“Mia dolce regazza,” he breathed
into her hair. “Bend over and put your hands on the barre for me.”

Sophie shivered, heat trickling
through her veins like sweet honey. She’d fantasized about this once, back when
they’d first met. How had he known?

She took a few shaky steps forward,
her whole body trembling as Henry watched her with burning embers for eyes.
With her gaze on him, Sophie bent slowly forward, placing her hands on the cool
wood of the ballet barre, shoulder width apart. She shifted her feet, spreading
her legs wider.

Henry’s hands clenched and
unclenched. She watched in the mirror, panting, fingernails biting into the
polished wood as he reached for his zipper and dragged it down. The purr of it
parting was loud in the heavy silence of the studio. When he drew himself out,
Sophie moaned.

Thick and hard and dark, the
round head glistening with pre-cum, Sophie had never seen anything as delicious
as Henry’s cock looked right at this moment. Her whole body clenched with the
desire to feel him inside her.

It must have shown on her face,
because he moved quickly into position behind her. His voice was gruff in her
ear. “I can’t be slow, bella Sophie. I need you too much.”

“I understand.” She nodded,
breathless. “Please, Henry. I need you too.”

He brushed her hair forward and touched
his mouth to the nape of her neck. His left hand trailed down her arm to cover
her hand, their fingers twining, while he lined his cock up with the soaked
entrance to her pussy. Eyes on hers in the mirror, right hip gripped tightly in
his big hand, Henry plunged into her, burying his entire hard length inside her
in one swift, deep thrust.

It was a wordless declaration, a
primal claiming, and Sophie’s body clenched around him in reaction. The breath
rushed from her lungs. Henry didn’t stop moving, pulling out of her almost
completely before driving hard back into her.

Sophie rocked forward onto the
balls of her feet, arching her back slightly to angle her hips, to take him
deeper into her silken confines. Henry cursed brokenly in Italian. Sophie whimpered
as his next stroke rubbed over a tingling spot deep inside her. Her muscles
strained to hold her in position, years of training and practice to hone her
body paying off in a carnal and delicious way.

“Dio! Sophie, you burn me, dolce.
So sweet.” He kissed the curve of her spine as he pumped rhythmically, filling
her and then retreating, his gliding thrusts powerful enough to shake her whole
body. Henry’s hand slid from her hip, down her thigh. His fingers stroked her
smooth skin briefly before curving around her knee and drawing her leg up,
opening her wider for his delicious invasion.

He pressed her thigh against his
flexing hip. Sophie bent her knee and curled her leg around Henry’s trim waist
until she could brush her toes against the straining muscles of his broad back.
She squeezed him between her thigh and calf, taking some of her weight off of
her left leg. Henry growled.

Sophie chuckled breathlessly at
the animal twist of desire on his face. She had never been so happy to be a
dancer in her life. Flexibility and muscle tone was good for more than just
ballet.

Henry’s arm snaked around her
hips, his fingers once again finding the pulsing bud of her clit, and Sophie’s
humor melted beneath the heated blast of pleasure that poured through her. The
combination of Henry’s hot, hard length driving deep into the wet grip of her
pussy and his fingers swirling around her clit had her orgasm bubbling quickly
inside her.

“Henry!”

“Give me your mouth, dolce,” he
rasped in her ear. Sophie obeyed, turning her head so that he could reach her
lips with his. The kiss was primal, his tongue sliding between her lips in
rhythm with his wickedly pumping cock.

Her eyes drifted shut. She didn’t
need to see anymore. She wanted only to feel all the amazing thing this wonderful
man was making her feel. His words said he ‘cared’ about her, but his touch,
his body said more. It said he needed her, craved her, cherished her, loved
her.