Chapter Sixteen Allegra #2
Cord slips it from his pocket and hands it to me and I don’t miss the way his eyes linger on my hair. I find the song I want in his music app and hit play. The familiar opening beats of “Pony” echo through the room.
He smirks at me. “A little cliché, don’t you think?”
I slide his phone across the room, spinning around so my back faces him, not bothering to respond.
My hips begin to sway to the sensuous beats of the song.
I hardly have to put effort into the motion anymore, it comes naturally to me, almost as if Cord’s hands are resting on my waist, directing my body in the movement.
But I don’t need Cord’s hands to guide me anymore.
I spin back around, my hands fisting the bottom hem of my sweatshirt.
Tugging it over my head, I make direct eye contact with him, and I don’t miss the way his eyes trace down the bared expanse of my neck, and over the swells of my breasts, even though he’s seen me in a leotard plenty of times by now.
I dance a little closer, giving him my back again, bending over as I slide my pants down my legs.
I kick them off and come back to standing with another hair toss.
Twirling around the chair, I place my hands on his shoulders, sliding them down his chest, pressing my breasts into the back of his neck as I do.
If I weren’t so close to his mouth, I wouldn’t have been able to hear the hitch in his breath when my fingers graze the waistband of his pants, but from this close, the sound is unmistakable.
I drag my fingers back up over his stomach, letting them tangle in the fabric of his shirt as they do.
He flinches when my skin brushes against his and I want to see his face, read the emotions I know can’t stay hidden in his eyes.
I walk around him slowly, the intensity of his gaze burning through me as I turn my back to him once again.
When Cord danced for me, he used this same motion, bending backward so his head landed in my lap.
I reach for one of his hands, the same way he did with mine, tracing it over my collarbone and down the center of my chest. Of course, Cord’s hands are much bigger than mine, and his thumb and pinkie end up brushing the sides of my breasts.
I hold my breath so he can’t see how much the slightest touch affects me.
I know the song is coming to an end, so I hair toss and spin one more time, straddling Cord’s thighs and rolling my hips.
Letting my eyes meet his, I take his hands and place them on the curve of my ass.
He doesn’t flinch this time, doesn’t show any hint of being uncomfortable with the contact.
He doesn’t drop his gaze and I don’t look away.
I roll my hips again and his fingers tighten, dragging me even closer.
The room around us has disappeared, the only thing present in my senses is Cord.
The clean laundry smell of him, the dark circles of his pupils, which seem to be expanding by the second.
The strength of his grip as he urges my hips to roll and roll again.
I’m trying to focus on my breathing, but I can’t seem to make my lungs function properly.
Instead of just rolling my hips this time, I swivel them, making a full circle. And that’s when I feel it.
Cord is hard.
I repeat the motion, as if there was any way I could be wrong.
But nope. I’m not wrong. I watch him watch me as I notice, but he doesn’t say anything.
Doesn’t still my hips when I move again.
If anything, he uses his grip on me to bring me even closer.
My hands drift up over the cotton of his T-shirt, landing on his broad shoulders.
An inch separates our mouths now, our bodies so close I can smell the sweat on his skin and feel the flutter of his heart beating through my chest. When my hips continue to roll, Cord reaches down and adjusts himself, adjusts himself so that the aching center of my core brushes his hardness the next time my hips move over his.
I can’t stop the gasp that escapes me. It’s not that I didn’t realize I was turned on by this whole thing, more that I didn’t realize how much my body needed this contact until he gives it to me.
Somewhere in the foggy space of my mind, I hear the music end, but I don’t stop my movement, don’t stop grinding over Cord’s lap like I’m a dog in heat. I don’t think I can stop. I definitely don’t want to.
I want to kiss him, but I’m scared if I do anything to pull us out of this trance, he’ll realize what’s happening and put a stop to the whole thing and I’m strung so tightly, my nerves so taut, that I think I might burst if I don’t find some kind of relief soon.
I want more than this. I want his hands and his mouth to soothe this ache, but I don’t know how to ask for it, don’t expect him to reciprocate.
But wanting and needing more doesn’t stop my body from dragging itself right to the brink. The tension builds inside me, low in my belly. My movements become more frantic and I lean into the grip of Cord’s hands as he rocks my body against his.
My breath stutters audibly and Cord growls, his voice a rumble that hits me right where I’m aching. “Come for me, Allegra.”
I don’t know if it’s his directive or that growl or the way my name sounds in his throat, but the orgasm rips through me, racking my whole body until I’m shaking in his arms. I cry out, too lost in the storm of sensations to be self-conscious about the noises coming from me.
Cord lets out a grunt of his own before burying his face in the crook of my neck, his hands moving from my ass up to my neck, holding me close.
Did he just…?
I suck in a breath.
Of course, it doesn’t really mean anything. He probably would have come if any half-naked woman had grinded herself to orgasm on his lap. It doesn’t have anything to do with me personally.
The way his hands smooth soothing circles over my back feels a little bit personal though.
I wait for his hands to release me before I move again, not wanting to disrupt this fragile bubble we’ve created. Cord holds me for what feels like forever and not nearly long enough. The warmth of his embrace is steadying and safe and I would stay here all night if I could.
But as soon as he drops his hands from my back, I awkwardly push myself up and out of his lap.
I don’t know what to say. I don’t know what to feel.
That was one of the hottest things that has ever happened to me, and yet, I’m afraid to open my mouth and say the wrong thing and blow it all to hell.
“Are you okay?” Cord stays seated in the chair, giving me the freedom to move as far away from him as I need to.
But I don’t want to move far away from him. I want to climb right back in his lap and let him kiss me senseless. Hell, I already am senseless. “I’m fine. Are you okay?”
Cord huffs out a hint of a laugh. “Yeah, I’m okay, Allegra.”
I shuffle my feet for a second before I reach down to collect my discarded clothes. I tug the sweatshirt over my head and step into my joggers. I wait for him to say something else, but when he doesn’t, I gather the rest of my things. “I should get home and get some rest before tomorrow.”
He runs a hand through his hair, making the back stick up straight. “Right. You have an audition tomorrow.”
“I have the audition tomorrow.” It’s as much a reminder for myself as it is for him.
He stands, adjusting his pants and folding up the chair. He takes it over to the other side of the room, leaning it against the wall. He doesn’t cross back to the other side of the studio, where I’m still standing and fiddling with my bag even though everything is all packed up.
“Okay then. Thanks for the lessons. I guess just let me know when you want to do the performance.” I shift my weight back and forth on my feet, waiting for him to say something, anything, about what just happened.
Even if he thinks the whole thing was a huge mistake, I would rather hear that than this stilted silence.
“Will do.”
I don’t bother waiting any longer. I spin on my heel and race out of the studio. I refuse to let the tears that have been welling fall because I am not going to give Cord Donovan that satisfaction.