After the Last Dance by Manning Sarra Page A

lip. ‘Just from looking?’
    â€˜Yeah, imagine that.’ Even though he’d been working her, teasing her, building her up for the last half-hour, and her dress was wilting, wisps of hair escaping from that tightly wound, honey-blonde coronet, her make-up practically a memory, there was still something untouchable about her.
    Leo took Jane’s hand, which was warm and a little sweaty, and kissed her palm before he placed it on his crotch. Her fingers clutched convulsively and her tongue crept out to moisten her lips.
    She wasn’t
that
untouchable.
    He lowered his head, so his mouth was against her ear and he could whisper, ‘Can you feel how much I want you? Do you want me too?’
    She shut her eyes, her fingers clutched once more and his dick got harder, throbbed against her touch. Then she took her hand away and his heart skipped one painful beat until she threw her arms round him.
    â€˜Yes! Oh, yes!’
    Leo didn’t bother teasing her any more, but kissed her hard and Jane kissed him right back. He walked her over to the huge bed, mounted on a dais, swathed in swagging and tiny pillows and didn’t stop kissing her, so she wouldn’t have time to think.
    But she was right there with him, happy to fall back on the bed, twisting underneath him as he fucked her mouth with his tongue. Leo wanted his mouth on her breasts next, but he’d seen the impossible number of tiny silk-covered buttons that held the bodice of her dress together and it would take too long to undo them. Long enough that Jane might change her mind, and he needed this. On a day of a week of a month that melted into all the other months and became years when he never got what he wanted, never achieved anything much, some strange twist of fate had let him get
this
girl.
    â€˜You’re fucking perfect,’ he breathed into her skin as he mouthed the top of her breasts and he started to tug down the bodice of her dress. Jane froze.
    â€˜No, don’t, darling,’ she said. ‘It’s vintage. You might tear it.’
    â€˜I really want to get you naked.’
    â€˜And I really want you to kiss me again,’ she said and he could do that and she didn’t mind when he pulled up all those yards of silk tulle and taffeta and settled himself between her legs.
    Jane hummed as he ground against her, lifted herself up so he could pull down the wisp of white satin and lace that covered her. He pressed his palm against her, she was bare and smooth; not quite wet enough, but he worked her with his hand. One finger inside her, thumb rubbing against her clit and she whimpered a little, eyes screwed tight shut.
    â€˜You really
are
good at this, aren’t you?’ she said, her voice thick.
    She tasted like blackcurrants too when he sucked the finger that had been inside her into his mouth. He thought about going down on her, he never minded that, quite liked it, sometimes he even loved it, but she was wet now. She didn’t need it and he really needed to get some.
    â€˜I’ll die if I don’t get inside you,’ he said, as he placed his thumb just shy of her clit so she wriggled to try to get him where she wanted him. ‘I can’t wait to fuck you.’
    â€˜I don’t want you to die.’ She arched her hips. ‘God, I think
I
might die.’
    â€˜Do you want it? Do you want me?’ Leo said but Jane didn’t answer, because she’d arched her back to a point where it looked painful.
    He pressed his thumb against her clit again, let her ride it a little, but when she arched her back again, whimpered again, as if she was going to go without him, he stopped.
    â€˜Yes. I want you! Please. I do want it.’
    He could do this with his eyes shut, one hand tied behind his back. Could keep her right up there, teetering but not going over the edge, as he fucked her with two fingers now, while his other hand groped in his back pocket for a condom, tore the foil