“That’s the only reason,” I confirm, trying in vain not to let him see what he’s doing to me.
He sighs with disappointment, but I don’t buy it for a second. “That’s sad.”
“I know. Very sad.” I nod seriously and move backward toward the grand piano by the mirror. My pulse is racing. This isn’t why we’re here, but somehow it is.
“Incredibly sad.” Easton follows me until I finally bump into the piano with my butt and can no longer avoid him. Not that I want to.
He leans over me, supporting himself with both hands on the lid behind me. I’m trapped between his arms, but I’ve never felt safer. I feel his warmth and forget how to think and breathe again. I inhale his familiar scent and it’s almost too much for me. I’m overwhelmed by his closeness, by the way he smells and the way he presses me against the piano until I feel like I’m falling backward.But I can’t fall. The instrument is behind me and he’s in front of me, making sure I stay standing.
His lips brush against my mouth, and I moan. My eyelids flutter shut. I can’t resist him.
“Don’t forget to breathe, Birdy,” he says, and I can feel his grin. Then he kisses me. Not like before. This isn’t a kiss of greeting. It’s abeing-completely-alone-in-a-ballet-studio-and-way-too-in-lovekiss.
My mouth opens, and then I breathe. I breathe him in. I feel his tongue on mine and the heat in my abdomen. The throbbing between my legs comes back, more urgent than before. It drives me crazy in a good way.
Easton groans as I press my hips against him, and now he’s the one not breathing, which makes me happy.
“Don’t forget to breathe, Easton,” I whisper into his mouth, just like he did to me, except this time I’m the one kissing him. Deeply and hungrily, because I can’t do it any other way.
I can feel his erection and I’m relieved that he’s only wearing sweatpants rather than the jeans he had on this morning. I can feel everything through the soft fabric. His hands wander under my T-shirt, and I sigh as he caresses my bare skin, from my hip bones up my stomach to my breasts. I’m wearing a thin bustier, but that doesn’t stop him, and God, I’m so glad it doesn’t.
I didn’t know it could be so exciting to kiss someone in a place where you’re not supposed to kiss. After all, this is a school, and someone could catch us at any moment. But it’s late, and no one is up here at this hour. Our studio is at the back of the building. The window looks out onto the administration building, which is also empty this late at night.
We’re completely alone, but if I’m being honest, the thrill thatsomeone might come and ruin everything is also what makes this so damn hot.
Easton’s mouth wanders from my lips to my neck, and I have to bite my lower lip to suppress the moan that tries to escape as his tongue glides over my skin. He hears it anyway. His pupils are dilated with desire and his lips are a little swollen. Because of me.
Easton slides both hands under my bottom and lifts me up. He sets me down on the piano. The wood is cool, and I can feel it through the fabric of my leggings. My skin, on the other hand, is burning.
My feet rest on the lid that protects the keys. I spread my legs just wide enough for him to slide between them. I need him closer. Once again, his mouth finds mine. He leans over me, and I lift my hips toward him, a bittersweet pressure building inside.
Easton pulls away from me, his gaze burning into mine. His fingers close around the waistband of my leggings, a silent question in his eyes.
“Do you want this, Birdy?” he whispers hoarsely, because he wants to do it right. Yes, I do. Way too much. His voice sends hot shivers down my spine, and at that moment, I realize his voice was the first thing I fell in love with.
That voice, like silk on sandpaper. That’s what I thought the first time I heard it. I remember it so clearly.
“Yes,” I whisper. My mouth is dry, my heart is beating too fast. I know we shouldn’t be doing this right now, not here, but God, I don’t care. Nothing matters except this unbearable longing inside me. I need him to do something about it, because otherwise I’m going to die.
I lift my hips again, and this time he pulls my leggings and panties off in one fluid motion. The fabric lands on the floor with a soft rustle. My T-shirt—one that I stole from him last night—slides upmy hips as Easton pushes me firmly onto the grand piano. Now I notice how cold the wood actually is. I swallow. My whole body is throbbing, nothing but burning heat. I’m on fire.
Easton pushes up my shirt and bustier, exposing my breasts. He brushes his lips over my nipples, his tongue teasing me, and I moan with longing, a wordless plea. He gives me more, moving his mouth down my stomach, lower and lower. I gasp for air when I feel his tongue right where I need it.
My head falls back and I sink onto the piano until I’m lying in front of him, legs spread, completely exposed. Nothing has ever felt as good as his head between my legs, his tongue on me.
I moan as he slides a finger inside me, slowly, teasingly, driving me crazy. His tongue moves in the same rhythm, and I’m dying. Gasping, I writhe beneath his touch, the room blurring around me. My fingers find his hair, tugging as he dives into me. He’s the only thing I can feel, licking, moving his finger inside me, harder, deeper, faster.
My hips thrust forward and he places a hand on my lower abdomen, pressing gently but firmly, and I don’t know why, but the pressure causes a wave of glistening heat to shoot through my body. My muscles cramp around his fingers and I moan, forgetting who I am, where I am, and why we’re here.
Easton straightens up as my body comes to rest again. It feels heavy and light at the same time and doesn’t seem to belong to me anymore, because it no longer obeys me. I blink up at him, his mouth glistening. I’d like to sit up, but unfortunately my muscles aren’t cooperating. Easton pulls me up and kisses me. I can taste myself on his tongue.
“That’s why you shouldn’t come here,” I murmur.
I can feel him smile. “But I like coming here.”
He kisses me again. He can come here anytime he wants.
Chapter 37
