Free Stripped by Allie Juliette Mousseau Page B

or help her get through what was obviously the worst pain of her life, he compiled insult with injury by fucking around behind her back, with a rival, no less.
    “He’d been my choreographer, my first time . My last time.”
    Her last time?
    “Don’t ask how long ago that was—it’s humiliating enough.”
    What a fucking arsehole.
    I caress my hand over the frame of her face, down her jawline to her chin. I thumb the porcelain flesh over her cheekbones, then slide my hand gently over her soft lidded eyes.
    “You… make me feel … like I never have before. With him. Or ever.”
    I wonder if he ever even gave her a proper orgasm.
    “The way you talk and move, the way you think and… touch .”
    She’s nearly breathless. I’m stroking feather light caresses over her shoulders, down her bare arms, and back up to forge a hot path across her collarbone.
    “I’d love to touch you everywhere, ” I say, tickling up her smooth exposed calves. “A beautiful woman like you should never be betrayed or neglected. You should be touched every day. Passionately, sensually…” I press against her with my palms and fingers, deeply massaging the outside of her thighs. She moans in response. “You should be worshipped.”
    “If you did that, tonight, would it get you out of my system?”
    The oddly worded question wakes me from my sex-riddled daze. “I don’t understand.”
    “Can I ask you to put your lips on my neck? Is that okay? I think I’d like to feel that.”
    I breathe out a chuckle. Is that okay?
    Immediately, I grip the back of her hair again. This time I yank her head back with intent, expose that long lovely neck, and work over the length of it with my lips. She moans and I sink my teeth gently into the soft flesh. She yelps a little and I balm the bite with a lap of my tongue. I climb and descend the curves of her luscious throat using my lips and nose, tongue and teeth.
    Her ability to form words is becoming sketchy at best. “I’ve thought of nothing… but you since we met. At first I despised you, of course.”
    “Of course.” I exhale hot breath into the delicate shell of her ear.
    “But after the embarrassment faded, you became a hella hot, out of reach… fantasy. Oh God, I’m not even buzzed enough to be telling you any of this, but I’m obviously doing it anyway.”
    “But you are, aren’t you, Em? Buzzing with arousal for me.”
    That weakens her defenses. Her hips nearly collapse from their rigid position. She throws her entire form against my torso, crushing her tits to my chest and her wanton pelvic bone into my belly. There must be a god, because my shirt has shifted up several inches, leaving my stomach exposed. A quarter inch south and I’ll have the feel of her silk on the hard washboard of my abs.
    I run my hands up and down her back. Suddenly, her arms come alive and her hands grow a mind of their own. She’s massaging my arms—from my shoulders, down. Lingering on the biceps and forearms. Digging in with the pads of her fingers and squeezing hard.
    “Then when I… found you again at the… studio.”
    “Would you mind very much if I bring my hands lower?” I’m asking to explore arse territory now.
    “I wouldn’t mind at all.”
    Fuck yes! I grab two handfuls of cheek and knead deliciously.
    “I think if we have sex, I’ll be able to think straight enough to coach you like you’re asking.”
    Maybe she’s gone a bit daft. “I don’t understand, Love.”
    “Because of that!” she scolds accusingly. “ Luv .” She steals my Aussie accent to drive home her point. “You’re dripping with sex and innuendo, Stone, and you’ve made me an unstable nuclear containment center . Look, I have no expectations or misunderstandings about who you are and what you do. You’re an amazingly talented, mind-blowing dancer and an incredible— kitten-exploding —stripper…”
    “A what?” I snort out a laugh.
    “Never mind. It all boils down to this. If we have sex now,