The Dancing Master (Stolen Moments) (2 page)

She shifted again, her thighs closing just a
fraction, hiding herself again.
 
"Are you perfectly well?"

"Perfectly."

"It's just that you sounded as if you were
in pain."

His gaze flew to her face.
 
Was she
really that
innocent or was she teasing him on purpose?
 
Whichever it was, it hardly mattered to him anymore.
 
What mattered was the sight of her naked
mound and
his desire to own her, to possess her, and to fuck
her until they both
passed out from pleasure.

He rose to his feet, too her by the arm and led
her to a sofa.
 
"Sit down.
 
It will make it easier for us both while I
inspect the rest of your legs."

Obediently she sat down and slouched against
the back of the sofa.
 
"Are you sure
you know what you are looking for?"

He lifted her skirts until she was naked to the
waist.
 
"Oh yes, I am quite
sure."

She leaned back on the sofa and closed her
eyes.
 
"I do hope there is nothing
seriously wrong with my legs.
 
I really
would
like to be able to dance properly
with you."

He would settle for dancing most improperly
with her.
 
They would be dancing the
shaking of the sheets together soon enough, if he had his way.
 
She would be perfectly adept at
that
kind of dancing, he was sure.

Her thighs were milky white and soft, and the
patch of golden brown hair covering her mound glistened in the afternoon
sunshine.
 
With one
hand
he nudged her legs apart so he could see her better.

Her lips were pink and beaded with moisture and
he watched, fascinated, as a drop of her womanly juices formed, grew bigger,
and slowly trickled down onto the sofa.
 
His mouth watered to taste her, to lick her pussy until she came with a
rush.

Soon.
 
He would taste her soon.

He placed his hands on her thighs in the
pretense of examining them.
 
"You
have beautiful legs," he murmured as he caressed her.
 
"There is nothing wrong with them at
all."

A dreamy expression floated over her face as
his hands crept higher and then, daringly, brushed her mound of curls.
 
"
Mmmmm
."
 
Her whisper of need was so soft he barely
heard it, but the noise went to his groin in an instant.
 
Her soft sound of desire had him almost
coming in his breeches.
 
He grabbed his
cock through the material, the touch of his hands on his shaft helping him to
retain control.

Yes, he would come soon, he promised
himself.
 
But
not yet.
 
Not until Susanna was
writhing under him in delight and screaming out his name in pleasure.

He knelt between her thighs then, pushing them
further apart.
 
Without another word, he
buried his face in her pussy, needing to have her as mindless for desire as he
was.

She sat up straight with surprise at the touch
of his mouth on her nether lips.
 
"Nigel.
 
What are you doing?"
  
But
her voice was
husky with desire and she made no move to push him away.

He lifted his head.
 
"Kissing you," he said briefly, and
then pushed her back down on to the sofa and bent to his task again.
 

She let herself
be pushed
back down
on to the sofa without any resistance.
 
"I've never been kissed there
before," she said in wonderment.
 
"Really, Nigel.
 
I think you ought to stop.
 
I'm
not sure this is entirely proper."

He licked her tight little bud until she was
squirming on the sofa, and then gently inserted one finger into her tight
channel.
 
Her pussy walls contracted against
him, sucking him in deeper.
 
God, how he
wanted to fuck her with his cock, not just his finger.
 
"Not entirely proper, but entirely
delicious."

He thrust his finger slowly in and out of her
several times, watching as a flush of desire spread across her face and
neck.
 
Her pussy wept around him and her
breath came in short pants.

When he took away his finger and stood up, she
gave
a mewl
of protest.
 
"Don't stop."

Undaunted, he merely shook her skirts back down
over her knees and extended his hand to help her up.
 
Her face
was scrunched up
in a pout that made him smile to himself.

She wanted to come - he knew that.
 
She had been very close to finding
pleasure.
 
But
he didn't want that.
 
Not
yet.
 
He wanted her hungry and
wanting more until she was begging for his cock.
 
Only then, when he
was
sheathed
fully inside her, would he make her come for him.

"There is nothing wrong with your legs at
all," he confirmed, tamping down his desire with a fierce exercise of his
will.
 
"They are just perfect.
 
There is no reason at all why you cannot
dance like an angel."
 
He held out
his hand to her for another waltz.

"Angels don’t dance either," she
muttered sulkily as she got to her feet.
 
"They are too busy fluttering their wings and playing their damned
harps."

He pretended he
didn't
hear her swearing and swept her into a waltz, humming a tune for them to keep
time by.

Susanna let her mind wander as Nigel led her in
another waltz.
 
It was funny how her feet
seemed to behave better the less she thought about where to put them.
 

She
couldn't
think
about dancing now.
 
Not
even though she was in Nigel's arms, where she usually longed to be.
 
Now all she could think about was lying back
down on the couch again, with her skirts above her waist and Nigel doing those
incredibly delicious things to her with his tongue.

She gave a small sigh.
 
Drat the man.
 
He
had
to know what he was
doing to her.
 
She was quite sure that if
he had just continued, it would have been
utterly heavenly
.
 
Instead of which he had stopped and she was
left with a restless, overheated feeling that she
didn't
know how to make better.
 

All she knew what that she wanted more of the
same.
 
So much more.

Nigel broke off his humming, but magically her
feet drifted along quite happily.
 
"Dancing is only a small part of a ball, you realize."

"A small part?" she asked morosely.
 
She
couldn't
believe
that he wanted to talk about dancing right now.
 
"I thought it was everything."

"Not at all.
 
Not as far
as a man is concerned.
 
A ball is
an opportunity for a man to talk with a young woman he fancies, even to get her
alone with him for a moment or two if he is very quick on his feet and she is
not always on her guard."

Now
that
sounded like the kind of ball she would enjoy.
 
Her mother
hadn't
mentioned a
thing
about gentlemen getting her alone
in dark corners.
 
"What if I
want
to be alone with a man?"

He broke off dancing for a moment and looked
into her eyes.
 
"Is there any man in
particular you would choose to be alone with?"

She still
hadn't
forgiven him for stopping in the worst possible moment just before, when she
had been on the brink of something wonderful.
 
"Maybe there is," she replied airily.
 
"Not that it is any of your
business."

His face grew black at her flippant
answer.
 
"You would be wise to keep
your guard up.
 
There
are plenty of tricks us men have to play on pretty girls.
 
For instance," and he started waltzing
with her again, "if that corner over there was a balcony, a dark balcony,
and if I were an unscrupulous man, I would casually steer you like so, over to
the balcony while we were dancing.
 
And
before you knew it, you would be out in the dark with me where no one could see
you."

By the time he had finished speaking, he had
waltzed her over to the corner and was hemming her in so she could not
escape.
 
A shiver of anticipation went
through her body as his closeness.
 
"What
would you do with me once you had me on the balcony where no one could see us?"
 

He bent his head to her.
 
His words were a heated whisper of breath on
her neck.
 
"I would kiss you.
 
Just like this."
 
He pressed his lips against hers, capturing
them in a kiss.

Her first kiss.
 
She shivered at the touch of
his mouth on hers and pressed eagerly back against him, molding her breasts to
his chest.
 
His tongue entered her mouth,
urgently seeking hers, and she met it, thrust for thrust.
 
Heat pooled in between her legs again, and
her desire for him exploded like a firecracker.
 

Grabbing the lapels of his jacket, she pulled
him nearer to her, winding her body around his in an effort to get even closer.

When he lifted his head again, she was
panting.
 

She noted with satisfaction that his breathing
wasn't
as controlled as before, either.
 

He brushed off his jacket as he got his
breathing under control again.
 
"You
should never let yourself be taken onto a dark balcony or a gentleman may kiss
you like that."

"And that would be wrong?"
 
Because he had felt very
right to her.
 
Better
than right.
 
It had felt glorious.

"That would be very wrong indeed.
 
Because if you allowed a
gentleman to take such liberties with you, he might feel free to do worse
still."
 
He reached up to her
bodice and with one sharp tug, pulled it down to expose her breasts.
 
"Like that."

She gasped as the draught of cold air made her
nipples pucker.
 
"That is hardly the
work of a gentleman to disorder a woman's dress."
 
She pulled at her neckline to cover herself
again, but he stopped her with a look.
 
"Why would a gentleman do that?"

He ran his palms over the tips of her breasts.
 
"Gentlemen love to see a woman's
breasts.
 
To fondle
them.
 
And then to taste
them."
 
He bent down and took the
tips of one breast in his mouth, suckling on it greedily.
 

Mmmm
- that felt almost as good as when he had kissed her down
below.
 
She was glad she had left herself
uncovered, even though it felt terribly wicked.
 
What was it about Nigel's mouth that could feel so good, no matter what
part of her he was kissing?
 
She would
probably love it even if he sucked on her toes.
 

As he was kissing her, he took her hand and
placed it on the front of his breeches.
 
He rubbed it over him, and her eyes widened at how thick and hard he
was.
 
She was not a total innocent - she
knew what happened between a man and a woman in the marriage bed- but he was so
large.
 
Would that part of him really fit
inside her as it was supposed
to?

"Men also love to have a woman's hand on
their shaft," he said, when
he'd
broken off
kissing her.
 
He wrapped her fingers
around it and encouraged her to squeeze him.
 
"If a man ever gets you alone on a dark balcony, you can be sure he
will have your hands in his breeches as soon as he can manage it."

She'd
never touched a man's private parts before, even through fabric like
this, and was consumed by curiosity.
 
Without further encouragement from him, she explored every lump and bump
in his breeches.