Dance: The Collected Series Read online

  “What’s gotten into you?” he grins between kisses.

  But he doesn’t put up a fight. I’m like a cat in heat – biting scratching, tearing at his clothes, wanting him naked as soon as humanly possible, both of us falling onto the hardwood floor of the apartment. I’m straddling him now, pulling at his belt like my life depends on it, the silk robe falling open, my tanned skin flushed with excitement. It’s crazy – like something has been unleashed in me, some wild primal desire I never even knew I had.

  “I like you like this, Julia,” he murmurs. “You’re so ... alive.”

  As I free him, unbuckling his belt and pulling at his zipper with trembling fingers, his hand moves to the center of me – his thumb slowly brushing the cropped fuzz of my pubic hair before finding my swollen clit, working it in deliciously slow motions, then tracing my own wetness up and down my swelling lips, each movement of his thumb sending tremors through me, making me gasp.

  I finally free his cock, letting it spring from his boxers, slick and hard, stroking it in my fist for a moment before climbing up onto all fours over him then easing myself backwards, guiding him inside me like that, slowly but urgently.

  I whimper as he stretches me wide again – this is still all so new to me – but this second time there’s no sharp pain, just pure pleasure: head-spinning, heart-racing pleasure.

  “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” I murmur through clenched teeth, rocking back even further on his cock, taking another hot thick inch of him inside me, steadying myself by placing my palms on his shoulders, pinning him to the floor beneath me as I begin to slide my hot tight cunt up and down his shaft. “I’ve been imagining you deep inside me like this ... I’ve been imagining feeling you come ...”

  “Fuck, Julia,” he grimaces, eyes aflame, cock twitching, buried deep inside my wetness. “You feel so fucking good ...”

  I can tell he’s still holding back; as if he can sense that this is all still so new to me that he’s decided to let me make all the moves. But I want to tell him that it’s okay to be rough with me, too – because that’s also what I’ve been dreaming of, what I’ve been craving all day ...

  “I want you to really fuck me, Dylan,” I whimper, as his hands move to my breasts, cupping them in his hot rough palms. “Fuck me hard ...”

  At this his eyes burn with intense desire, and I shiver as his fingers slide down to my ass, spreading me wide, holding me firmly in place as he begins to slam his hard cock even deeper inside me in fast powerful thrusts.

  “Oh God, that’s it,” I gasp, as I feel the electricity building like a fireball inside my core, as Dylan’s cock hits a sweet spot, each fresh thrust seeming to double up my pleasure until before I know it, I’m coming hard on top of him, my hips bucking, my hair falling in my face, my sex clenching tightly around his shaft as my whole mind and body explode with intense, white-hot pleasure.

  And a moment later, Dylan tenses, thrusting deep into me with a final gasp, pushing himself up so we’re sitting, my legs over his, our eyes locked as his cock pulses its fluid so fucking deep inside me.

  “You’re just so incredibly sexy. Do you know that?” he says, once we’ve caught our breath, still sitting there sweaty and naked on the floor of our apartment.

  “I’m just me,” I laugh.

  “But who even are you?” he says. “Every time I think I know you, you surprise me with something new ...”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  After class, I have a meeting with Maurice in his office, to assess my progress so far, and I can’t help it: I’m really, really nervous, even though he’s super friendly.

  “Julia! Come in! No need to look so terrified!” he laughs, as he welcomes me into his office and offers me a chair. “So, what can I say?” he adds warmly, once we’re both sitting down. “You’re settling in excellently. Madame Lyon in particular speaks very highly of you ...”

  “Really?” I say, kind of thrilled as I think back to our last class, and tell myself strictly that I need to work harder – no more distractions.

  “Yes, you’ve been getting along very nicely indeed, Julia, and I see almost no reason why you’re not going to have a very successful three years here at Eldridge.”

  “Thank you,” I start to say.

  “However,” Maurice interrupts, holding up his tanned left hand to silence me, “I wouldn’t fully be doing my job as your teacher if I didn’t instruct you on how to improve your craft even further, now would I? Do you remember what we talked about after your audition? My misgivings about your performance and potential?”

  I nod, feeling a pang of embarrassment at the memory. How could I ever forget?

  “Well, I’ve definitely seen improvements. And that’s only to be expected in an intense programme such as this. But even so, I believe there’s still room for further improvement and refinement. I want to help you, Julia. And I think you would benefit hugely from a series of one-on-one sessions. My consultation time is usually very expensive, but I like to do what I can to help my more ... gifted students, particularly those who might need some financial assistance.”

  At this, I feel myself blushing. He doesn’t know that my course fees are paid off for the whole three years already. And that I’ve still got ten grand to live off for the rest of the year.

  Should I tell him?

  “Amazing!” I say instead, figuring a little free one-on-one time wouldn’t hurt. “Thank you, Maurice. That’s so kind of you!”

  “Fantastic,” he says with a big grin. “Let’s say 7-9pm on Tuesdays, I am all yours.”

  §

  Dylan: I want to see you tonight. Meet me for dinner.

  Julia: I’m so sorry. I can’t! I told you last week that I’m taking Monday as my night off. I’m meeting my friend Nat for a catch up. x

  Dylan: Tuesday then.

  Julia: Eek. I’ve got an extra class until 9. But I’ll be all finished, showered, changed and back at my apt. by 10? Could see you then? xx

  Dylan: No. There’s a new restaurant I want to try. Didn’t we have a deal? Evenings and weekends with ONE night off, correct?

  Julia: I know, I know. I’ll make it up to you. Just you wait and see. xxx

  Dylan: Oh, you’d better ...

  Julia: I will, I promise! xxxxxxxxx

  §

  “I don’t understand!” Nat says, slamming her hand on the table, brow furrowed.

  She’s on one of her rants again, and when she’s like this, there’s no point trying to interrupt her until she’s finished, so I just take a long sip of my cocktail and let her continue.

  “I thought I’d be able to see you more now you’re not working every hour God sends in that bar. But I’ve barely seen you. Where have you been, girl? I know school’s gonna take up some time. Sure, I understand that. But it can’t be that much more than your job, can it? I’ve really missed you these last few weeks. I’ve missed my girlfriend.”

  “I’m sorry, Nat,” I sigh. “Really I am. It’s just the first few weeks of term and so I’m trying really hard to make the extra effort. And one of my teachers, Maurice, he’s amazing – he’s offered me extra tuition, too. And ... then I guess there’s Dylan. He takes up a lot of my time now ...”

  “You know what they say,” Nat smiles. “Treat ‘em mean, keep ‘em keen.”

  “Not this guy,” I say with a shake of my head. “He gets upset if I don’t see him most nights.”

  “Oh no, no, no, no, no!” Nat says. “Red flag, Julia. Red flag! If he’s this controlling this early on in the relationship, what the fuck’s he gonna be like a few months down the line? First it’s, I gotta see you. Then it’s, Who was that guy you were talking to? And before you know it, it’ll be, I don’t like your friend Nat, I don’t want you to see her any more. I’ve seen this shit happen. You gotta be careful. I mean, I know he’s loaded, but are you sure he’s the right guy for you?”

  I hope I’m not blushing, because right now I’m thinking about how there’s no way in the world
that I can tell her that he doesn’t just want to see me, but that we’ve got a ‘deal’ – a deal that’s allowing me to live rent free in Manhattan.

  “He’s a great guy,” is all say.

  “Well, I’m just gonna have to vet him then, aren’t I?” Nat says with a grin, her big brown eyes growing steely with determination. “I wouldn’t be your best friend if I didn’t check him over for you, now would I? I’ve got a good nose for creeps. So why don’t you arrange for us to all go out? Somewhere fancy – he can pay. And I’ve said it before ... He can bring a friend.”

  I laugh and nod, hoping to God this is just some hair-brained three-cocktail idea that Nat will forget about tomorrow morning. But knowing her, I doubt it ...

  §

  It’s my first one-on-one session with Maurice and to tell you the truth, I’m kind of weirdly nervous about it. Maybe it’s because I’ve never in my life had this much attention focused on my dancing before, so it’s kinda scary and crazily intense. He’s watching me like a hawk – no wrong move I make, even by half an inch, no, half a millimeter, is going to go unnoticed.

  “Good, good,” he says, his reedy voice echoing slightly around the empty studio. “Now, technically, you’re brilliant. But there’s still something missing, Julia.”

  I sigh. Not this again.

  And how can that even be the case, I think. I mean, after all, I’m not a virgin anymore, am I? So it sure as hell can’t be ‘sex’ I’m missing ...

  “Stop,” he says, holding out a hand and motioning for me to sit. I sit on the mat, cross-legged, and he walks over and sits down next to me, so that we’re both facing the reflections of ourselves in the wall-length mirror.

  “Close your eyes,” he says gently. “And just listen to the music. If you thought you were listening before, you were wrong. I want you to really listen. Leave the confines of your body ... Become one with the music ...”

  I try to focus on the soft orchestral passages coming from the studio speakers, but as Maurice speaks, I can feel the warmth of his breath against my face, like he’s getting a little too close to me ... And I keep my eyes closed, fighting the urge to open them.

  “Now come back into your body, Julia ... Feel the way the music flows through you ...” he continues.

  At this, I feel him shift right up behind me, leaning in and taking both my hands in his. I flinch for a moment. I can’t do this ...

  “Now really feel the music in your body,” he says, swaying me side to side in time with the beat. “Come on, loosen up!”

  I try my hardest to stay loose.

  What’s my damn problem?

  “Now stand up with me,” he continues. “Keep your eyes closed.”

  He helps me gently to my feet, keeping hold of my hands, his body behind me.

  “Let yourself move in time to the music. Don’t think of your dancing steps. Don’t think about the position of your spine or where your feet are in relation to each other. Don’t think about any of that. Just think about the music for once, Julia. Just think about how it makes you feel ...”

  I finally start to ease up a little, letting my body flow in time with the gentle rhythm of the music.

  “That’s it!” he laughs. “You’re getting it! Now still moving like that, I want you to think about your body, too. Think about what your body is made for. Think about love, Julia. Think about sex.” He purrs out the word, his breath again brushing against my neck from behind. “Because that’s what we’re trying to portray here, Julia. That’s what this is all about ...”

  And finally I give in and do as he says; it’s kind of weird but I can see what he means, and soon I’m moving freely. And what’s more, I’m thinking about sex. I’m thinking about Dylan Campbell. About the way his hands move over my body. About stroking his hard cock. About taking him in my mouth. About the groans of pleasure he makes when I do. About fucking him. About feeling him inside me, stretching me so wide, filling me so deeply with ...

  Just then the music comes to an abrupt stop, and I remember where I am. I’m left flushed and panting, fighting back my embarrassment at all those kinky things I was just thinking about.

  “Now open your eyes, Julia.”

  He walks over to the stereo, skips the track back to the beginning, then presses play. “Now, the routine. Again.”

  And this time, as I dance, I try to remember what he’s taught me. I try to let go, to capture some of the intensity of the feeling of being with Dylan, but also to follow the steps of the routine, combining those two things – both the rawness of sex and also the studied complexity of the routine. And when I finally come to the finish, Maurice bursts into applause, his enthusiastic clapping ringing out loudly around the empty studio.

  “I think we’re finally getting somewhere,” he says with a big grin.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  As soon as I open the door to Dylan, I can tell from the look on his face – a curious mixture of mischief and seriousness –that tonight is going to be a little different to usual.

  “Come in,” I say, gesturing to the couch. “Take a seat.”

  “You forget,” he replies firmly, “that this is my apartment, and I’ll sit down when and where I like.”

  I’m stunned into silence. The mischievous expression has gone from his face now. He looks deadly serious, his black eyes piercing me so intensely that I even feel a little ripple of fear.

  Have I done something wrong?

  “Is everything okay?” I say, trying to remain confident, trying to keep my head held high.

  “I’m afraid not,” he answers. “You see, Julia, as you are no doubt aware, you have violated the terms of our contract. And I was expecting more from you ... so much more. This just won’t do.”

  “Dylan, I’m sorry,” I say, pleadingly, wanting to go to him, to throw my arms around him, to smother him in kisses and show him just how much he’s starting to mean to me ... But instead I stay rooted to the spot. “I know we had an agreement,” I add, “but I’ve got to take my studies seriously, too. You understand that, right? It’s not a joke. This is my life.”

  “Well,” he continues, “I take our arrangement very seriously.”

  “I do, too,” I say, and I mean it. I just wish I could let him into my head; show him how much all this really does mean to me, too.

  “I’m glad to hear that,” he says. “But it’s going to take much more than words to convince me that you’re serious about this, Julia.”

  “Anything,” I plead.

  “In that case,” he says, that wicked look returning to his face, “do exactly as I say. Hold out your hands.”

  I pause for a moment, wondering what in the hell he’s going to do to me. But I follow his order, holding out my hands towards him. He opens his black leather briefcase, and I watch, mesmerized as he takes out two black silk ties, then closes up the remaining space between us, winding them surprisingly tightly and quickly around my wrists. So tight that I gasp.

  “Good girl,” he says, ignoring my little cry of pain. “This way.”

  And at this, he grabs the knot between my bound wrists and leads me, at a faster pace than I was expecting, so fast in fact that I stumble slightly, through the living room and into the bedroom.

  “I need to teach you a lesson, Julia,” he says, letting go of my wrists, fixing my gaze with his own. “Do you agree?”

  I’m shocked into silence. I kind of suspected he was into dark shit like this, but even so, now that it’s all actually happening, it feels so weird, so unreal, like all my senses are heightened. I can feel everything: my blood pumping, my heart beating, the little hairs standing up on my skin. Not to mention the sweet ache between my legs and the tingling tightness of my nipples.

  I can’t speak anymore. I just nod, my breath shivering in my throat as he moves around behind me. There’s a pause, and then I feel him slowly unzip my skirt, zzzziiiipppp, before letting it drop to the floor around my ankles.

  I’m powerless to stop him. And if I’m
honest? I don’t want to stop him. I’m enjoying this even more than I thought I would. Turns out there’s something really fucking hot about being completely at his mercy.

  “Spread your legs,” he commands.

  I step out of my skirt and spread my legs.

  “Wider. You can do better than that ...”

  I do as he says, spreading my legs really wide now, feeling myself growing so damp and hot for him – my whole body crying out now to be taken.

  I gasp when his hand moves between my legs, first stroking my cleft through my panties, then tugging them roughly to one side, exposing me completely, his fingertips teasing me, tracing up and down my shaved, swollen lips, but never quite giving me what I need. I can feel my clit throbbing madly now too, begging for his touch.

  His hand traces upwards, his fingers grazing my ass for a moment, then moving up my spine, up further, until he’s gripping my ponytail, winding it tighter and tighter around his fist, forcing me to bend my neck.

  I’m trembling all over, submitting to his will, wondering what he’ll do next.

  With my hair still wound tight around his fist, he pushes me forward, face down towards the bed. I thrust out my bound wrists, steadying myself with the heels of my hands on the sheets, my legs spread wide, my whole body shivering.

  A delicious pause, as I feel his other hand once more caress my buttocks before yanking my panties right down over my thighs, causing them to tear at the seam, then fall right off me, just a torn wisp of fabric now, joining my skirt on the floor by my feet.

  Again, his hand caresses my butt, his hot palm cupping my right cheek for a moment, then lifting and then ... Crack.

  I cry out, shocked by the sting of pain that shoots right through me.