Page 115 of The Dangerous Dance

He lifts his head. His mouth is wet. His eyes are darker than before, the edge he was holding visible now.

I reach for him. I pull him up. I kiss him and taste myself on his mouth, the intimacy of that, the fact of what he just did.

"Trousers," I say against his mouth. "Off. Now."

He does not argue.

He steps back and he takes off the rest of his clothes, the belt, the trousers, the rest of it, and I watch him. I do not look away. I do not perform not looking away. I just look. At his body. At the fact of him hard and wanting. At the way he looks at me while I am looking at him.

"Come here."

He comes. I pull him to me by the hips, the urgency of my hands, and I feel him against my stomach. Hard. Hot. The weight and shape of him. I make a sound that is not a word and he makes a sound that is not a word and his forehead drops to mine.

"I don't want to rush," he says. "I have been wanting this."

"I know."

"But I."

"I know," I say. "I feel you. I feel how much you want this."

He breathes. The air moves between our mouths.

"You're sure," he says.

"Yes."

That is all he needs.

He lifts me.

The strength of him. The ease of it. The way he turns me so my back is to him, so I am facing the mirror. His hands on my waist. My hands finding the barre.

"Watch," he says. The echo of what I said to him.

I watch.

In the mirror, his hands on my hips, his body behind mine, the geometry of us. The way he bends me forward just slightly. The way I grip the barre. The way he positions himself.

"Tell me," he says. "If you need."

"I need you to fuck me," I say.

The word in my mouth. The word in his hearing. I see it in the mirror, the way his jaw tightens, the way his hands grip me.

He pushes inside.

The stretch of him. The fullness. The way my body takes a moment to adjust to the fact of him.

He stills.

Inside me. The fullness of him, not moving yet, just there, just the fact of our bodies joined in this room with the mirrors and the barre and the work lights making everything warm and lateral and true.

I can feel his breathing against my back. The effort of him holding still.

"Nadia," he says. Just my name.

"Move," I say. "I want."