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“For tonight? Yes.” He grinds his hips forward, and my inner heat simmers as my hips move to match his movement. His hand on my back tugs me just a little bit closer. And for a moment, I dare to pretend that it’s just the two of us here.
“Music, movement, the pull of the rhythm, and how they shape the flow of our bodies …” he says as our hips sway as one. “These are the differences between simply livingand being alive.”
My hands loosen in his for a moment. Konstantin notices and holds on tighter. He swings me around, erasing the tiny grim voice that was ready to whisper in my ear. His insistence that I keep up with his quick movements is helping me focus onthis—on the moment.
He can’t be doing it on purpose, but it works just the same.
The band hasn’t taken a break for the entire two hours, and neither have we. My feet are throbbing; there’s sweat up and down my back. The thin material of my dress sticks to my skin and leaves nothing to the imagination.
But somehow, with Konstantin, I don’t want him to imagine.
I want him to see.
The only time we slow down is when a giggling waitress with thick red hair holds out a tray toward us. On it are several tiny glasses of clear liquid.
“Limoncello,” Konstantin says, grabbing one. “Try it.”
“I’ve had limoncello before.”
“But notthislimoncello. It’s made from Sfusato Amalfitano lemons. They’re only grown here.”
I’ve been smelling lemons since I arrived. Curious, I take a glass, sniffing it. The citrus makes my nose burn. When he takes a sip from his, I chug mine down. The tingles ripple through my throat.
“Holy shit! That isstrong!”
Konstantin takes my empty glass with a smile while he downs his. “That’s why you’re supposed to sip. But no matter, come.”
He takes me by my waist, fingers working into my lower back just above my butt. His touch demands my attention and I obey without question. We’re pulled back to the dance floor by the music, fueled now by the tart buzz of limoncello. It feels amazing to dance like this, to pant from exertion, and trust him as he guides me through the motions until my muscles turn deliciously sore against him.
His thigh wedges between my legs, and I bite my lip as I ride the hard bands of muscle through the thin fabric of his pants. Pressure grinds along my skin and rushes up beneath my dress. A slow dampness fills the space between us, and a new breed ofsorewakes up inside of me.
In a great swing of his arm, he yanks me in a circle until my stomach lines up with his. My hands bury themselves in the front of his shirt, clinging to the immaculate fabric as I drive my hips into his thigh, feeling my heart pounding between us. His breathing is heavy, matching the sounds I’m making too.
The yellow glow of the lanterns dangling from the ceiling dazzles his smooth skin and his half-parted lips.
My eyes lock with his, and I want him to do more than see.
I want him to lay me down, peel the sweaty dress off, and trace the outline of my body with his kisses. I want him to push my legs apart and whisper all sorts of dirty things in my ear while his powerful fingers explore me.
I want to feel the weight of his muscled body against mine, to lose control as he fills me up until I can’t take anymore.
I want him to fuck me until I forget everything—from my name to my worries to the awful reality waiting for me when I leave Italy.
I can’t catch my breath, and it’s not from the dancing.
Konstantin dips his head toward me. My heart races as the scent of soap and aftershave—so light that I could convince myself that I’m imagining it—invades my nostrils
I don’t have to move to meet him as he closes the distance like an avalanche. The pressure and warmth between us rise, inevitableas the tide. Our mouths crush around each other and I lose myself in the kiss.
His lips are soft ... just like I thought they’d be.
Trembling from the rush of heat that takes over my body, I open my mouth further, and feel his tongue sweep in. My heart flutters and my knees go weak. His hand rises to cup my face and take hold of my chin as his tongue explores each corner of my mouth.
His other hand on my back pulls me closer to him. My heart thunders at my throat, and a soft moan escapes from my throat for him to swallow.
I close my eyes, imprinting the kiss in my memory forever as the music swells to one final crescendo before it suddenly comes to a stop all around us.
We break apart just in time as the other dancers let out a loud collective groan of disappointment. They start gathering their things, and head for the exit, arm in arm.
