Page 36 of Natasha
"Enjoying the view?" she quipped with a laugh.
He grinned at her and rubbed a hand against the back of his neck. "I was admiring your form. Very beautiful."
Natasha pushed away from the barre and stepped into the center of the room. "I've still got a few minutes left of warming up, so count yourself lucky. There's plenty of time to ogle...ah, I mean, admire my form."
Silas chuckled but kept silent, eyes following her as she went through a series of light warm-up jumps and spins. When she was done, he clapped excitedly, prompting her to turn toward him with a quizzical look on her face.
"Uh, I...that was great?" Silas tried, looking confused.
A peal of Natasha's laughter rang through the room when she realized Silas thought she had been genuinely dancing and not warming up. "That was just my warm up, silly."
"Oh." Silas leaned back against the wall with a little thud. "Whoa."
Natasha was still laughing when she stepped close to the tablet that each room was equipped with. She had fought with her family to get the bit of technology into the school, and she was happy she had. The tablets worked with the speakers all around the room, which made picking music for classes a breeze. She paused, fingers hovering over the selection of music she knew so well.
When Silas had asked to see her dance, her first inclination had been something sweet, breezy, and classical that would be pretty. But now, standing here, the only thing she wanted to do was show off for him. Even if he didn't know what he was watching, she would know what she had done.
Though Silas didn't know it, he was about to be treated to the routine that had propelled her as a young ballerina,Le Pas de DeuxfromLe Corsaire. She grinned, remembering how exhilarated she felt watching it for the first time and how disapproving her grandmother had been because it had been the part the man danced that had captured Natasha's attention.
There had been something so powerful and raw in the grand jetés, the barrel turns, and beautiful switch leaps that had made her want to dance and never stop. Not if she could take a stage with that kind of power and presence. The routine had captured her imagination in a way that nothing she had seen before had. It had pushed her during her early dancing, and now she was sharing it with Silas. She looked back at him, the bold sounds of percussion already beginning to fill the room, and felt her heart clench at the sight of him. Golden hair tousled, summer sky blue eyes fixated on her, and the most perfect and warm smile directed her way.
When Natasha stepped forward onto the dance floor, the change in her demeanor was nearly immediate. Instantly, she felt calmer, more confident and self-assured in her movements. She was the queen of everything she could see, and she turned toward Silas, shooting him a wink from arabesque position before whirling away and pushing off into her first barrel turn.
"Holy shit," Silas breathed, his voice audible over the rising crescendo of timpani drums. Natasha kept moving, unwilling to let go of the high her body felt at the familiar routine. Tomorrow morning, she would pay dearly for this athletic display, but she didn't care. Not when she'd nearly worn out a pair of ballet shoes as a child learning how to get the most height and spin in her jumps for this routine. Then, it hadn't mattered to her that she would never dance this part as a prima ballerina for a company. All that mattered to her was the way she felt when she saw it performed well and the way her heart soared at being able to execute such a powerful piece of dance. There was nothing dainty about this routine. It was pure power, and Natasha loved every second of it. She covered the entire span of the classroom, her eyes finding Silas as she executed consecutive flawless grand jeté. When she was done, it took everything in her not to collapse to the floor.
Never before had Natasha put that much of herself into dancing, not once. Then again, her audience had never mattered more to her than it did now. Chest heaving and arms flung out at her sides, she closed her eyes briefly and sucked in a steadying breath. When she opened them again, it was to the sound of Silas clapping.
She smiled at him and lowered her arms shakily. "D-did you like it?"
Silas shook his head in disbelief, still clapping. He got to his feet and clapped even louder as he walked toward her. "That was fucking amazing. I loved it."
"Really?" Natasha smiled shyly at him. The confident ballerina persona had slipped away from her shoulders and, once again, she was nervous in front of him.
"Baby girl. You were sensational." Silas put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed them. "I don't know much about ballet, but I know that what you just did was world class."
She beamed at him then. "Thank you. That means so much to me."
"Why don't you dance anymore?" Silas asked, fingers rubbing her shoulders.
"I-I, ah, I couldn't hack it anymore. Not mentally," Natasha said softly. She smiled tightly and rolled her shoulders. "The pressure became too much."
Silas blew out a whistle. "You're stunning, baby."
"That makes me happy to hear you say so."
"Then I'll say it again." Silas stepped closer to her, a wolfish look in his eye that had her biting her lip. "You're sensational. A goddess."
A shiver ran through Natasha, and she leaned closer to him. "Keep talking," she whispered, pressing her chest against his.
Silas slid his hands down her back to her hips. "You're my beautiful dancing girl. Daddy's special girl."
"Mmm." Natasha let out a slight moan. She turned her face up to Silas, already anticipating the kiss that he pressed to her mouth. Her breath caught when he hooked his hands beneath her thighs and lifted her effortlessly in his arms. She wrapped her legs around him and returned his kiss with everything in her. Her body felt like it was positively singing. Every part of her still coursed with adrenaline from dancing a favorite routine. Being able to channel her exhilaration and energy into Silas was nothing short of blissful, so she didn't stop him when he slipped the shoulder of her bodysuit to the side and nipped her shoulder lightly.
"Is this okay, baby girl? Tell me no, and we'll stop."
"If you stop, I'll never forgive you," she gasped, pushing her hips against Silas. She was desperate for contact, and suddenly, they were both wearing far too many layers of clothes. "Take off your clothes," she demanded, tugging at his shirt.
Silas said nothing but kissed her again, harder this time, before he yanked his shirt off. Before Natasha knew what was happening, Silas had her bodysuit pushed down to her waist and was already unsnapping it from between her legs.
