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His gaze travels up and down my body, pausing at my tits and hips but also taking the time to appreciate every inch as I begin to move, sashaying across the floor before kicking my left leg up and coming up onto my right toes, thanking whatever genius came up with spandex denim. Dom’s eyes widen as I hold the pose, bending my leg at the knee before lowering it while unbuttoning my jeans.
I tease them down my thighs, trying to accomplish the impossible . . . taking off fitted jeans without looking like a total doofus.
I do my best, a genuine smile crossing my face at the absurdity of wiggling the denim down and off.
I twirl, letting Dom see the curves of my ass peeking out from beneath my top before I slip it off too, turning to face him as I drop it to the floor. My curls flutter around my shoulders, and I shake my head, letting the length fall behind my shoulders so nothing is hidden. I reach behind my back and unhook my bra, pulsing my body to the beat slowly as I inch the lacy straps down my arms but hold the cups to my breasts.
The tease has Dominick panting, craning to see every inch of my body at once as his eyes dilate just from watching me. My nipples harden when I see the growing bulge in his slacks, knowing that I’m doing that to him. Me, Allison Bancroft, not Allie Angel.
I face away from him, letting him see the expanse of my back as I remove my bra and toss it overhead where it lands in his lap. He grabs it, fisting it like it’s more than a slip of silky lace.
I swing my hips side to side, drawing his attention lower by running my hands down my curves to one of the two places I desperately want him to fill.
The other is my heart, but that seems dangerous to consider, so I let the dreamy thought drift away like my panties as they hit the floor and I step out of them.
Fully nude for him, I sway seductively.
“Stop,” he says, softly but forcefully, his voice barely audible over the music from the speakers.
I freeze instantly, and Dom’s eyes meet mine despite the enticement of my bared body.
“You have pretty words to explain your desire to dance, to be on stage, and they are true, but I think you haven’t admitted the most obvious one.”
I suddenly feel vulnerable again with nothing to hide behind, and the naughty fun of the moment squeezes in tight as I fear what he sees. He comes around the desk, and now I’m the one being stalked as he slips a hand around my neck. I don’t resist but instead lift my chin defiantly in false bravado.
“What do you mean?”
He leans forward to whisper in my ear, holding me in place as if I’d try to get away. “You like to be watched. It feeds some beast in your core to not just explore those experiences but to have them watched by the audience.”
He’s not wrong, though the way he says it makes it seem dirtier than it is. I shrug, not giving him the satisfaction of my agreement nor the disappointment of a denial.
He growls, turning me around and pushing me forward until I’m pressed up against the glass. I know that we can see out, but the people below can’t see us.
“Look down there, Allison. See all those people in the audience? Do you want them to watch you dance, watch you seduce me with your smile and your sexy body? Do you want them to watch while I fuck your sweet pussy?”
With his last question, he moves his free hand down my back to cup me, hissing as he discovers how wet I am.
Not willing to admit it, I sass back as a last-ditch effort of rebellion. “If I’m the exhibitionist, you’re the voyeur, always watching from your perch above everyone else. You like to watch and manipulate people like chess pieces for your game.”
He’s not nearly as shy about the admission as I am, chuckling proudly. “I do like to watch . . . but only you. And I’m going to watch you give yourself fully to me, right here, overlooking that entire audience. Perhaps I’ll make the glass transparent? Would you like that?”
I bite my lip, shaking my head. “No, not them. Just you.”
His grin is full of victorious pride as my words betray me, confirming the exhibitionist tendencies I’d never really given a second thought. He rewards the honesty by slipping his fingers through my folds, gathering my juices and spreading them over my clit.
His touch is teasing, never staying exactly where I want him, not out of lack of skill but simply because he can since he’s in control.
