Free One Last Dance by Angela Stephens Page A

and hard. She rubbed
her palms over his shoulders, down his arms, leaning in to press her mouth
against his skin. He tasted of sweat and spice. She traced patterns on his
flesh with her tongue, on his neck, his collarbone.
    When he drew back his eyes were
fierce as coals. “Get on your knees.”
    Desire shot through her legs at
the sensual fire in the words. Her pussy grew slick and was once again
throbbing. She sank to her knees at his feet. Henry stared down at her,
touching her cheek. “Finish. Undress me.”
    Her hands trembled as she raised
them to his belt. She undid the buckle, tugging the length of leather free of
its loops and tossing it aside. It was a matter then of only sliding down his
zipper and pushing his slacks down off his hips. They slid to his ankles and he
kicked them away, leaving him in only his boxers. His erection was practically
bursting through the thin fabric.
    She bit her lip, slipping her
fingers into the waistband and drawing out the hard length of his cock. He was
thick and long, the smooth head engorged. Sophie opened her mouth wide and
 wrapped her lips around the spongy tip, licking at a bead of pre-cum. It
was salty and slick. Henry hissed as she took him into her mouth, sliding her
lips down his shaft. Tasting him like this, pleasuring him like this,
intensified Sophie’s own desire. The glide of his silken skin against her
tongue, the salt and male musk flavor of him, the springy hair at the base that
tickled against her nose when she fully engulfed him—every sensation only
heightened her own arousal.
    Sophie stroked him, tongue
curling around his shaft. Henry groaned, sliding himself between her lips,
shuddering. Again he murmured words she couldn’t understand. She didn’t care. It’s
not important , he’d said. It wasn’t.
    “Sophie,” he moaned. “Dolce
ragazza. Stop.” She pulled off of him, looking up into his smoldering eyes. He
stroked her face. “I need to be inside you now.”
    The words took away all her
breath. Henry grasped her shoulders, pulling her up and pushing her back onto
the lush, soft bedcover. She lay back, gazing at him, breath uneven. His cock
stood up against his muscled belly, glistening with her saliva.
    “Spread your legs.”
    She did, watching him as he
crawled over her. His hard body glistened with a fine sheen of sweat. Sophie
stroked his shoulders and back, urging him upward until he knelt between her
splayed thighs. His cock prodded gently against the slick lips of her sex.
Sophie whimpered and slid her thigh against his hip, gasping at the feel of her
skin gliding against his. They both moaned as he slid his shaft up and down her
slit. “That’s it. Just like that.”
    He teased her, pumping his hips
in tiny increments, rubbing the head of his cock over her clit. Each time the
smooth, spongy tip kissed the throbbing bud it set off sparks in her belly. She
arched her back, pressing her breasts against his chest, trying to coax him
into her wet cleft. He bit her lower lip and plunged into her, burying his cock
in her clinging flesh. Her thighs tightened around his hips as he began to move
within her. He pulled out slowly and the slippery glide of his cock as he
withdrew it tingled along her nerve endings. Then he pushed back in and Sophie
lifted her hips to meet him.
    They moved together, and apart,
and together again. Each time his shaft parted her he seemed to press deeper,
touch someplace new. She undulated against him, welcoming him back inside her
with each thrust. Her heart pounded in her chest in time with the throb of her
clit. Henry ground his pelvis against her with every downstroke, rubbing
against the turgid nub and sending waves of pleasure throughout Sophie’s body.
    His pace picked up. He thrust
harder now, stomach slapping against hers with a resounding clap. His cock
pounded into her, sliding against the wet silk of her inner walls. The
delicious friction built a fire in her belly.
    Henry slowed again, drawing