She stands at the bar, scanning the crowd for a glimpse if him. There! He dances wildly, long blond hair flying, eyes closed, lost in the pulsating music. She can't tear her eyes from his pale physique, wondering how he can dance in his black trenchcoat. He wears it every night, the ankle length leather must feel volcanic. She watches the razor thin goth girls dance close to him, vying for his attention. His eyes never open and he never touches any of the lust filled females. She's seen him, every closing time, grab one of the available creatures and drag her, willingly, into the night. It has become a ritual for her to try to pick the same girl he will. Not this night though, she intends to be the one he steals away tonight.
She gulps her double shot quickly, shivering from the biting flavor. Skirting the crowd, never taking her eyes from his form, moving closer to him. Near enough to touch him, she can see the sheen of sweat on his skin. Reaching her hand out, wanting to feel him, connect with him. Almost.. her fingertips barely out of reach, he stops dancing suddenly. Her eyes fly to his face and are locked with an ice blue gaze. She can't move, can't even breath looking into those frozen eyes.
"Why are you following me?" Did he say that? She didn't see him speak? How could she even hear him above the deafening music? His eyebrow arches as he awaits her answer. Opening her mouth, she cannot find the words, her eyes fall to the floor.
"Look at me!" She immediately meet his steely gaze, a sardonic smile twists his mouth as he slowly extends his hand. Everything fades from existance, there are only his silent eyes and his pale strong hand, reaching for her. She sees a delicate hand lain in his, startled to realize it is her own. He pulls her close, the intoxicating scent of leather and something feral drifts around her. She can feel his breath in her ear, she aches to press her body to his. He hasn't moved, standing so still she dares to look up at those masterful eyes. His smirk fades, his fierce chisled features set like stone.
He begins to dance again, slowly this time, eyes open, holding her gaze. She can't turn away, unwittingly she begins to sway with him. Somehow her every move matches his, like she knows the dance, has danced it forever. They never touch, she never looks away, the dance becoming more wild. She is lost in the dance, in the music, in those eyes, she completely surrenders, she is lost in him. The breathless dance continues song to song, always changing, never slowing. She is slick with prespiration, mouth parched, clothes glued to her skin. Other than his light sheen of sweat, he seems unaffected by the feverish dance. Her mind imploring her body to stop, those eyes, still on her, are all that matters, she can't stop.
He can tell she is struggling within herself, sees the exhaustion in her frame. Stepping away, he snatches a glass from a waiter's tray and shoves it at her. She stops, as he did, reaching eagerly for the liquid. He pulls back as she moves to take it, she freezes, dropping her arms to her side. Her eyes question his, but he gives no answers. Again he offers the glass, slowly moving closer to her face. She bends her head to sip from the drink, eyes still on him, fearing his disapproval. The cool water soothes her dry lips, never has she been this thirsty. He tips the glass further, she is gulping trying to swallow it all. Needing to breathe, but she cannot with the liquid pouring down her throat.
Unable to drink fast enough, water runs from the corners of her mouth, down her chin, her neck, soaking her white tank top. The rise of her breasts and her sheer bra are visible through the now opaque material. She does nothing to dry herself, somehow knowing she should not move. He passes the glass to a bewildered dancer, before moving within a hair's breadth of her. His finger delicately traces the neckline of her top, hooking the center of it. His nail runs down the front of the drenched material, she closes her eyes, trembling at his touch. His hands are on her shoulders, tugging the thin straps down her arms.
She looks down, her top is neatly sliced where his nail ran, her bra, thankfully, still covers her breasts. The torn shirt is now around her wrists, he begins twisting it, tightening the cloth into soft bonds. Her arms pulled back this way thrust her full breasts out proudly. With his free hand he traces the outline of her nipples, watching them harden instantly, a low moan escapes her lips. He lowers his mouth to her breast, she closes her eyes as he captures the hard nub in his teeth. He teases her, flicking his tongue softly then clenching his teeth firmly on her nipple. The waves of pleasure and pain crash together, leaving her knees weak. His hands snakes down her flat belly, over her skirt, coming to rest on the soft curve of her sex. Applying pressure to her hot mound while still torturing her nipple, her molests her.
Senses swirling inside her, her breathing has become ragged, she opens her eyes. Looking over his head she sees the crowd has formed around them, dozens of eyes focusing on her. Even in the dim light she notices a few men rubbing their bulging crotches, whispering and pointing at her. The few women in the circle are intently watching the show, some twisting their own nipples, one even stroking the man beside her. Another wave rolls over her, she licks her lips, moaning loudly now, as he teases her. His leg between hers, forcing them apart, not that she fights him. The hem of her short skirt is yanked up, exposing her panties, as he slips a finger past & into her. Stiring inside her, his mouth leaves her breast, looking into her eyes, he brings his hand to her face.
"So wet, aren't you?" Showing her the slick finger that was inside her hot sex, bringing it to his lips, licking her juices off. He releases the shirt holding her wrists, she moves her arms slightly and he glowers at her. She stops moving, realizing he wants her still bound for him. He takes her face in his hands, pulling her close, she can feel his breath on her lips. His mouth crushes hers, tongue forcing in between her lips, probing her velvet mouth. His teeth seize her lower lip, nibbling gently at first, then sinking into the tender flesh, tasting her blood. Licking his lips, he leans back to look at her, the thin trickle of blood from the pin pricks in her bruised, lust swollen lips.
He slides down to her neck, sucking softly on her skin, grazing her collarbone with his teeth to feel her stiffen. Down her stomach, flicking his tongue in her navel, biting the waistband of her skirt, tugging a little. He pulls away as he reaches her fragrant snatch, spreading her legs farther apart, inhaling her scent. Looking down at him between her legs, his hands gripping her thighs, her juices are pouring over her panties. It seems an eternity that he kneels there, just looking at her, smelling her.
