Page 88 of 1 Last Shot

For a moment, I pretend that I'm thinking about it. But then I slide my lips past her mouth, brushing against her cheek, so I can whisper in her ear, "Maybe next time. Right now, I want to fuck you while you watch."

And then I'm gripping her waist and spinning her to face the mirrors.

She comes face to face with the sight that I've become completely obsessed with: a disheveled, lust-drunk Isabella.

I lean down to press a kiss under her ear. “Put your hands on the barre.”

She sucks in a breath at my order, but dutifully steps forward to brace on the wooden bar.

"God, you're perfect," I murmur. I don't mean to say it out loud, but I'm so enamored by Isabella's presence, and her obedience, that I can't stop it from slipping out.

Her eyes dart up to meet mine in the mirror. She swallows thickly when she sees the hunger in mine, but when she doesn't seem scared by the sight of it, I add, "Since the day I first saw you, I've been thinking about what it would look like to dirty up this perfection."

Her eyes widen at the confession. There's a pause, and then a second later, her hips are pressing back into my lap, her challenge barely a whisper. "Then show me," she breathes.

The tether on my controlsnaps. I immediately reach for my belt buckle with one hand, my other hand glued to her waist and my gaze locked on hers in the mirror. I'm not pulling my attention away or putting any unnecessary distance between us, because I need to get inside her more than I need to breathe.

"Leg up on the barre,” I growl as I pull my cock out.

She sucks in a breath at my order, but dutifully lifts her leg up to brace on the wooden bar, in that graceful way that only ballerinas are capable of. I want to come from just the sight of her.

"You’re going to watch me fuck you. Understand?"

She nods, the soft smile on her face making it obvious how pleased she is that she's driven me to my limit.

After quickly putting a condom on, I reach between her legs from behind, sliding her leotard to the side and moving her shredded tights out of the way. When I stroke her lips and feel her dripping with desire, I line my cock up.

“I’m going to enjoy stretching this pretty ballerina pussy with my cock,” I murmur in her ear.

And then I drive into her with a single, hard thrust.

Isabella gasps at the sudden intrusion, yet she immediately rocks her hips with a silent desire formore. I don't need to be asked twice—I start to fuck her.

"Oh my God, you're sodeep," she says on a breathy moan, her eyes sliding closed at the sensation.

Immediately, I slide one hand from her waist, up to wrap around her throat. The second I squeeze lightly, her eyes pop open in surprise.

"I saidwatchme," I growl, my hips never slowing. "Watch as I make you come."

I feel her swallow against my hand. I'm entranced by the sight in the mirror before me, of my tattooed hand against the perfect, porcelain skin of Isabella's neck. I flex my grip once more, just to see her react to the same sight.

"Look how pretty you look like this," I purr in her ear. "You're not the prim and proper ballerina right now, are you? Not with my cock fucking your tight little pussy, out in the open where anyone could see you."

I watch in satisfaction as her chest starts to rise and fall rapidly at my words. It causes a pleased smile to curl my lips, and then I'm asking her, "Want to see what that looks like? What I see every time I fuck you?"

"God, yes," she breathes, her tone sounding every bit as desperate as she looks. "Show me.”

Slowly, teasing her with my lazy movements, I drop my hand from her throat, down to the edge of her skirt. Since I moved us into this position, her clothes have blocked any view of either of us. But when I grip the hem of her skirt, and slowly tug it up to her waist, we're greeted with the debaucherous sight of her shredded tights, and my cock driving into her exposed pussy between them.

Isabella lets out a whimper when she sees it. Her muscles tighten around me, and I immediately start to drive harder into her, sensing that the sight alone has put her that much closer to an orgasm.

"That's all it took, huh?" I taunt. "One look at the way I fuck you and you want to come?" I pin her skirt between my forearm and her stomach, freeing up my hand to rub circles on her clit. "Go on then, come for me. Show me how much you love the way I fuck you."

Her pussy starts to ripple around my length. I drop my face into the crook of her neck with a groan, never pausing the movement of my hips or the touch of my fingers. I'm just as desperate to extend her orgasm as she seems to be, her nails digging into my forearm and her breath coming in gasps.

"Fuck, that feels amazing," I groan into her skin. "You'll never not feel amazing, Isabella.”

And whether it's the honest confession, born on the high of pleasure, or the feeling of my own release inside her, something makes her breath stutter. Only, I'm too far gone in the whirlwind of lust to really register it.

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