My fingers curled reflexively in his hair, the urge to move—todo something—buzzing through my veins. I felt hyperaware of my body, of the thin fabric clinging to me, of the ache still lingering in my muscles from dancing so hard I’d nearly split myself open with want.
Alek tilted his head. “And what would you perform?”
“What would you like to see?”
His smile was slow. Possessive.
“Everything.”
My heart hammered so loudly I was sure he could hear it. And I realized—terrified and thrilled in equal measure—that I wanted to show him everything. That I wanted to be cool and daring and sexy for him. That I wanted to bear the parts of me no one else had ever seen.
I disentangled myself from his embrace and stepped back. Keeping my eyes on him, I raised my shaking fingers to the hem of my skirt and slid it down my legs, undoing my pointe shoes as I bent over. A tank top and pantyhose were hardly the most desirable of outfits, but Alek drank me in like I was made of golden nectar. It gave me the courage to slowly slide down mypantyhose until I was standing in just my top and my lacy pink underwear with a little bow on the front.
I bit my lip, insecurities already beginning to rise. What if I looked too childish in front of him? Surely the girls Alek was normally with looked much morewomanly.And while I liked my cutesy lingerie—always with pink, lace, bows, ruffles, or a combination of them together—I was suddenly feeling far,farout of my league.
“Stop,” Alek whispered, his pupils blown wide. “You’re fucking beautiful.”
“I am?”
He nodded slowly, throat bobbing as if he wanted to say more before he rasped, “Very, Evangeline.”
My right hand traveled along my inner thigh until I reached my core. God, I was practically dripping. The fabric was soaked, the smell of lust permeating the air around me.
Alek looked like he wanted to eat me alive, his whole body twitching as if he had to hold himself back from devouring me. Part of me wanted him to, but another part of me wanted to perform for him. I wanted to feel his eyes pressing against the curves of my body while I took pleasure from his longing gaze.
“I don’t know what to do,” I whispered, because while I’d somewhat touched myself before, I somehow knew that those times—the times in the shower where my hands explored before I got scared and hurriedly got out—were different.
“Has your cunt never been touched, solnyshka?”
I shook my head. “Not really. Teach me how.”
“Fuck,” he groaned. He looked like a bomb about to detonate, like he wanted me so badly, he was about to explode. “Touch yourself. Feel how wet you are.”
Slipping my panties to the side, I dipped a finger into the wetness before slowly dragging it out. Alek let out a shudderingbreath, seeming to have a war with himself before he hardened his gaze, gaining control while the passion simmered.
“Now stick your finger inside. Slowly.”
I did as he ordered. I plunged a finger inside and moaned loudly, throwing my head back at the sensation. Nothing I’d ever done before had felt half as good as this, as the slow stroke I made while I pretended it was Alek’s fingers inside of me instead of mine.
“Eyes on me,” he growled, and my head snapped forward as if controlled by invisible strings. At that moment, he was my master. I was helpless to resist his commands—not that I wanted to. I wanted to listen, to make him proud, to be the girl he wanted me to be. Maybe it was some fucked up form of my people pleasing coming back to haunt me.
“Good girl.”
I whimpered, my bodyreallyliking the sound of that.
Alek must have noticed my reaction. “Do you like it when I praise you, Eva?” he whispered, and I nodded, unwilling to open my mouth in case another embarrassing noise left me.
“Slide your finger in and out. Keep your eyes on me.”
And maybe it was the commanding tone in his voice, or maybe it was the way he looked at me. Or maybe it was the way I couldfeelmy muscles clenching around my fingers, my body slowly losing control to the fire building within me. Whatever the cause, all of my lingering apprehension slowly melted away, leaving behind a primal desire for more.
For Alek.
I began to get more daring, my finger moving in and out without his commands, my thumb even daring to press against my clit. My legs buckled for a second before I regained my balance.
“Look at how beautiful you are when you touch yourself. My pretty, pretty girl,” he purred, and I almost fell apart right then and there.
“Alek,” I breathed.
