Page 57 of Not Strictly Ballroom

Inside the room I kiss him slowly. As much as I’ve been waiting for this moment, I want to take my time. I want to savour every minute.

I unbutton his jacket and slip it off his shoulders. He goes to unbutton his shirt, but I put my hands on his.

“No, honey,” I say softly. “I want to undress you.”

I take off my jacket, and my shoes and socks, and reach for my phone to play some music. Of course, I’ve created a playlist for the occasion.

I kneel in front of him and ask him to lift each foot in turn so I can remove his shoes and socks. Then I rise and lead him over to stand near the bed.

I slowly unbutton his shirt, pulling it free from his trousers. I run my fingers up his chest and cup my hands round his jaw, tasting his lips, biting them gently before sliding my mouth down to place a row of kisses down his throat, humming my approval as he tips his head back to expose it more for me. I withdraw slightly, keeping my eyes on him as I undo my own shirt and take it off.

I return to studiously sucking marks on his neck, pulling his shirt down and trapping his arms as I kiss my way along his shoulder. I notice the way his breath hitches when I have him held fast and I file that information away for the future. My cock is certainly on board with that idea and responds with a twitch.

“Do you like that?” I ask, looking back at him, seeing the answer in his heavy, lust-filled eyes. I have a sudden image of him spread out and restrained for me and it’s all I can do not to rip the rest of his clothes off and take him. I take a few breaths, mostly to stop the rush of blood that is making my dick want to act independently of what I have planned. I almost hear him whine when I pull his shirt all the way off.

I delicately cage my arms round him, wanting to feel his skin against mine, and I caress my hands up and down his spine. He wraps his arms around me as I sway my hips to the rhythm of the music, and he mirrors me, slow-dancing for the rest of the song.

As it finishes, I lead him back to the bed, trailing my hands down his skin, and tracing across his abs. I unbutton his trousers and slide them with his briefs down over his hips, asking for him to step out of them.

“Fuck. Honey, you look good.” I feast my eyes on his erection. “Now get on the bed for me.”

He sits down and moves backwards until he’s laying back on the pillows.

I take off my trousers, giving Darcy a flash of my latest pair of lace shorts, before they join the rest of our clothes on the floor.

I crawl up the bed towards him, pecking kisses on his thighs, and sucking a mark on his hip. I continue up his body, applying my mouth to his chest, seeking out a nipple with my tongue. Darcy moans and stretches languidly beneath me. I transfer my tongue to his other nipple, feeling it harden at my touch, and his moans grow louder as I flick it with my tongue, nibbling it gently.

“Mmmm, that’s good, babe.” He stretches again, and his erection bounces against my chest, reminding me of its presence.

I work my way down his torso, following his faint treasure trail until I can hold the base of his cock and lap at the precum leaking from the end, savouring the taste.

“Tell me what you want,” I say huskily, sitting back. “Tell me what you need.”

“I want you,” he says lazily.

“How do you want me?”

“I want you to fill me up.” His voice deepens.

“That’s it, honey. Keep talking.” After weeks of hushed hand jobs and muffled blow jobs, I want to hear his voice.

“I want to feel you.”

“Mmm, sounds good.” I bend each of his legs in turn, placing a kiss to the inside of each knee. “Hold your knees, honey.”

He brings his legs up to his chest, exposing himself to me. He looks perfect and wanton and I want to hear more. I reach for the lube, flipping the lid and coating my fingers.

“Where do you want to feel me?” I ask.

“In my hole.”

“This hole?” I tap it with my finger, watching it contract as he jumps.

“Yes.” He lets out a breathy whisper.

“I can’t hear you.” I rub my finger round his perfect pucker, feeling it respond to my touch, watching his struggle to voice anything.

“Y-yes. T-that hole.” He pushes against my finger.

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