Dance with Me: Spicy Excerpt

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Somehow Alexi managed to get the door open without dropping her and kicked it shut behind him, letting the keys fall to the floor with a clink. He carried her down the hall and through the kitchen, setting her down on the bed.

“Now, Sherry.” He took a step back and leaned against the wall as if he didn’t trust himself to be too close to her. “Are you ready to continue our game?”

She laughed, leaning back on her elbows. Her body was humming, vibrating with need. “As long as vodka isn’t involved.”

“No vodka,” he said. “New rules. I ask the questions.”

“And if I refuse to answer?” She let her legs fall open slightly.

“You won’t.” He was standing over her. She could see how much he wanted her. The hunger in his eyes. The pulse in his neck. The growing bulge under his cargos that had nothing to do with athletic supports. He pulled his sweater off, revealing his muscled torso covered with tattoos. His abs were washboard hard and distinct. His pants sat low on his hips, a sparse trail of hair pointing like an arrow to the treasures below.

“First question.” He pushed his knees between hers, lowering himself down on top of her. Lying back, she let herself drink in the beauty of his face. The sea-glass eyes, the high Slavic cheekbones, the slightly downturned lips, swollen from kissing. She wanted to devour those lips, to feel them on every part of her body. He looked into her eyes, saw her desire. Her heartbeat was pounding like the A train at rush hour. Bending toward her, he took her top lip between his teeth and flicked his tongue along it. “Top or,” he asked, moving to her lower lip and sucking on it, “bottom?”

“Oh, God,” she sighed. “Right now? Either.” She grabbed his hips and pulled them toward her moist heat.

He propped himself up on one elbow and ran his hand down the length of her body, then up under her skirt. He pushed it up to her waist. She could feel the hardness of him against her and reached down to stroke him over his cargos. He let her, smiling, as he slid his fingertips under the leg band of her panties, running it back and forth under the delicate lace at the crease of her leg. But when she reached for his fly, he pulled her hand away with a kiss.

“Next question,” he said. He knelt with his knees on either side of one leg, and pinning her arms over her head with one hand, slipped the other into the waist of her panties. His fingers hovered over the silk of her hair for a moment, his fingertips just grazing her mound. She squirmed under him, her breath coming in short sharp bursts, her heart threatening to beat out of her chest. Then he parted her lips. She gasped as he slid his fingers into her slick opening. He was breathing heavily, his eyes glazed with want as he slid them out, and found her pulsing nub.  “Do you want to come first?” His voice was low and controlled, but barely. He rubbed the tiny bundle of nerve endings. “Or second?”

“Both,” she moaned as she closed her eyes, overcome with pleasure. “And third, and fourth.” His fingers worked her rhythmically, and she pressed into him, spreading her legs wider. She could feel the pressure mounting, demanding release.

“Greedy,” he breathed into her ear. “I like it.”