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"I think we both know what I'm here for." She whispered, her body leaning into his, her lips parted.
He gave a dark chuckle. "I can't wait to see what you're going to say next." He glanced down at her nipples where they broke the smooth surface of the material.
Why did it feel as if he was teasing her? "We're adults aren't we?"
"Yes, we are." He breathed in, appreciatively. "And I can smell how aroused you are, just like I could last night."
His words thrilled her. His face was millimeters from hers. He wanted her too.
"Yes," she whispered, "I am aroused. And so are you." Her lips parted with pleasure, the knowledge of reciprocated desire, and anticipation of the event that could follow.
Capturing her hand, he led her to a door stage left, punched a sequence of numbers into the keypad and pulled her through the doorway. It slammed shut behind them. He backed her up against the wall. Grabbing her wrists, he pinned them above her head, his hips pressed hard against hers.
They kissed, their hungry, open mouths locked together. Barely contained animal lust traveled between them, as palpable as electricity crackling across a stormy night sky.
He pulled her toward a door close by and into the room beyond. He fumbled in his pockets, drew out a ring of keys and locked the door behind them.
She glanced around. A dressing table stood against one wall, mirrors over it and on the wall behind. A sink and clothing rails were fitted to the back wall. It was a dressing room.
Zac dropped the keys loudly on the floor and walked over to where she stood. Music stirred through the walls from the auditorium. It was muted, but its dense throbbing sounds reached Abby at the same time as Zac pulled her body to his. He took her coat off, dropping it to the floor, and ran his hands over her breasts.
She breathed out as the light jersey beneath his hands heightened the sensation of skin reaching for skin.
He kissed her neck, brushing the surface lightly, and breathing along her throat. Sensation flew through her from the place where his lips moved on her bare skin. In one long, slow stroke he bent and moved his hands up, from the top of her boots, under her dress, and around the back of her thighs. His hands traced the line of her g-string, pulling at the skimpy line of material.
She moved her hips, responding to the sounds that reached them through the walls. As a woman's voice flew up in a scream of song, Zac moved his fingers into the humid spot inside her. Her head fell back in ecstasy.
She looked into his eyes and moved her hips on his hand. She was burning up, she was so hot for this.
"What is it that you really want, Abigail Douglas?" It was a whisper.
She couldn't reply, because the contact with him had taken away logical thoughts.
He drew back and looked into her eyes with a curious stare, his hot breath covering her face.
"I want you," she murmured. "I wanted you the moment I saw you." Her hips moved, begging for him to take control of them.
He nodded then turned her in his arms, pressing against her back, his cock hard and defined against her buttocks. The movement was so sudden and sexy it knocked the breath from her lungs. Reflected in the mirror, she saw them molded together. He looked over her shoulder, admiring the image too.
"I like these boots," he murmured. "They make you just the right height." He stroked his hand up the line of her spine and slowly but firmly pushed her over until she was bent at the hip. His cock was hard against her buttocks, her heels lifting her against him. She gasped, wriggling in his grasp, her sex clenching with need.
He lifted the hem of her dress and pushed it up to her waist, the bulge of his cock resting between her buttocks as her bottom was revealed to him. She glanced left and saw them reflected in the mirror, blatantly, provocatively. Animal.
He lifted her G-string to one side. She struggled against him, turning away from the image she saw in the mirror. It was hot, shocking. Too much.
"No, keep looking." His tone was demanding, making her quake with lust. "I want you to see how good you look while I'm fucking you."
A low moan escaped her and her hands grappled for support. Her fingers met the cool porcelain of the sink. She gripped onto it and pushed her hips back against him, looking at the mirror as she did.
His fingers plucked the G-string from his path, tightening it against her clit as he did so. The pull of the fabric on her clit made her throb, hot waves of pleasure condensing in her groin.
He stroked her swollen folds and it was such sweet, sweet torment. Bent over like that, every part of her was on display to him, every quivering, damp bit of skin, and each lusting orifice. She whimpered quie
tly, desire and humiliation raging inside her. She whimpered again, louder, when he reached down and rocked one finger over her clit. She tossed her head back, her hair flying as she looked back at him with. His eyes were dark, shining. His lips were pressed together, his mouth hard and determined.
"Zac, please," she whispered, her voice quiet and strength less.
"Hush, I intend to have you right now. I'm going to do what I should have done last night and bury my cock inside you."
