He was right. We’d spent so much time in the studio, but we’d never had sex here. It felt forbidden somehow, like we were defiling our workplace even though it was a private residence.
But it was that same forbidden undercurrent that stoked those flames higher when he gripped the back of my neck and pulled me into a kiss.
It wasn’t a gentle, yearning kiss; it was hard and aggressive, almost desperate, and the deliciousness of it made my toes curl.
A moan slipped from my mouth into his. I was the good kind of dizzy, floating on lust and euphoria and everything in between.
Asher pushed me against the barre and slid my dress straps down my shoulders. I shivered, my skin pebbling from a mix of cold and desire. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and my nipples were so hard they abraded the light cotton of my dress. They scraped against the material with every movement, sending jolts of heat straight to my core.
Asher broke the kiss and skimmed his mouth down my throat, his lips curving into a tiny smile when he found the wild flutter of my pulse. He lingered there, leisurely tracing his tongue over my skin before he continued his journey downward.
He tugged on my neckline as he did so, and it wasn’t long before my already-slack bodice sagged around my waist.
His mouth trailed down…
Down...
Down...
Until it closed around a peaked nipple and sucked, teeth tugging and lightly grazing across the sensitive tip.
This time, my moan was closer to a strangled cry. My hand flew up and my fingers tangled in Asher’s hair, both holding on and holding him close as he teased my breasts into pebbled stiffness.
I was so wet I could feel my underwear getting soaked. I squirmed, trying to get more friction between my thighs when Asher lifted his head and spun me around so I faced the wall of mirrors.
Heat consumed my face when I saw my disheveled, half-naked reflection.
“Bend over and spread your legs.” Asher’s rough command sent shivers streaking down my spine.
I obeyed, placing my hands on the top beam of the double barre and edging my legs apart. My pants of anticipation fogged the glass, turning my reflection into a haze of dark hair and red cheeks.
However, a needle of confusion pierced my lust when Asher walked to the sound system and turned it on.
The familiar strains of classical music filled the studio, its elegant symphony a stark contrast to the obscene image of me bending over the barre, my legs spread wide, my breasts bared, and my thighs slick with my juices.
My clit pulsed at the dichotomy.
If any of my old ballet teachers could see what we were doing in this studio…
Asher’s steps echoed against the polished wood floors. He returned to his spot behind me, his gaze taking me in with such intensity that I blushed again.
“The music is in case someone from the household staff wanders downstairs.” His velvety drawl slid over my skin as sure as a caress. “Wouldn’t want them to hear us.”
With that, he shoved my dress up around my waist, hooked his thumbs into my underwear and yanked it down, exposing the glistening evidence of my need.
“Fuck, you’re dripping.” He dragged a finger through the wetness. I whined and squirmed again, my entire body flushed. His chuckle brushed my back. “Does this turn you on, sweetheart? Getting bent over and played with while you wait for my cock?”
I was too aroused to be embarrassed. “Yes.”
“Hmm. I thought so.” He removed his hand, ignoring my cry of protest. “You’ll have to wait a little longer, but don’t worry, darling.” A wicked grin slashed across his face as he knelt between my legs. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
That was the only warning I got before his tongue touched my clit, and my world splintered into fragments of pure lust.
I cried out, my hands gripping the barre as Asher ate me out from behind. He lapped up my juices and swirled his tongue over my swollen clit before he thrust it inside me. The piano music mingled with the sounds of his tongue fucking in and out of my pussy in delicious, rapid strokes.
Firm hands manacled my thighs, holding me steady while I shook and sobbed, the pleasure so intense it brought tears to my eyes.
He released one of my thighs and rubbed his thumb over my clit. He thrust his tongue deep inside me at the same time, and that was it.
I exploded, my orgasm rocketing through me and taking possession of every single muscle while I drenched his face with my come.
He groaned, the vibrations sending mini shockwaves up my core before he pulled back and stood.
I heard the metal rasp of a zipper coming undone and the rip of foil, but I didn’t get a chance to ride out the final waves of my orgasm before he was inside me, filling me up until I gasped.
I was still sensitive from our earlier activities, and the single thrust sent a second, smaller orgasm chasing after the heels of my first one.
It was my first set of back-to-back orgasms ever, and I was so lost to the sensations, the want, that I could only hold on tight while Asher fucked me into a state of sobbing, mindless delirium.
He was typically gentler when we had sex, but this? This was raw and hard and everything I didn’t know I needed. We were swept up in the needs of the moment, our troubles drowned beneath an ocean of desire and expelled with each cry and groan. Still, despite the brutal rhythm of our coupling, he intermittently slowed down to check on me.
I appreciated the sentiment, but I was fine in this position—more than fine. And I didn’t want him to hold back. I wanted him to fuck me harder.
“Right there.” I gasped. “Harder, deeper…yes.”
His balls slapped against my skin with each thrust, underscoring the speed and force of his rhythm, but it still wasn’t enough. I wanted more.
Asher slowed again to accommodate me when I straightened, raised one leg, and stretched it out along the lower barre. I wasn’t quite as flexible as I’d been before my surgeries, but the height of the barre and the way he held me alleviated any pressure that would’ve incited a flare-up.
