Even though I'd craved it, the intensity of his kiss still takes me by surprise. The clubbers who surround us dissolve with the music into the curling dry ice. Even alcohol is secondary to the passion I taste as our tongues entwine. Each moment of exploration makes me want to lose myself and never resurface.
I'd spied him earlier leaning against the bar, watching me tossing my long oaky hair to the thumping beat, sparkly purple nail polish and blue eyes catching flashes of light and laser beams from the club ceiling as I'd cut loose. Our eyes had met over the heads and arms of the gyrating swarm of bodies more times than decency dictated. Perhaps too many; at my next glance, he was gone.
I'd searched the crowd distractedly as I danced, eyes flitting left, right, near, far. Nothing.
My disappointment turned to tingling anticipation as I'd sensed a presence beside me. A safe distance at first, he matched my rhythm, edging into that skin-prickling zone where I could sense his heat, our hips brushing, inching together to dance as one. He'd eased into step behind me and his forearm circled my waist. I snaked an arm up to slide into his close-cropped nape and he'd traced his fingertips down the inside of my exposed bicep, making me shiver.
Spinning to face him, we danced hip to hip, the pounding beat vibrating my core, his hands emboldening on my body. Demanding, he tugged at my waist, sliding lower to my bum, squeezing as our lips touched. The kiss germinated, rapidly swamping my senses. His breath was hot on my face as he'd pulled away momentarily, dark eyes searching mine. I strained towards his mouth, desperate for more but he'd held me a moment longer until he was satisfied. I knew he'd see what I wasn't trying to hide. Desire. Lust. Want. It was coursing through me, the primal beats fuelling a primal need.
And now? Something tells me this guy is more than a one-song mini-movie. I wonder how far his touch will wander. I wonder if it's dark enough to do what we both want?
The answer comes swiftly, hand reaching up to grip my hair as the other traces my hip to creep between our bodies at waist level. I tighten and shudder when he inches his way under my T-shirt hem to brush skin that forges a connection between mind and body. He has to be able to detect my heat. I melt into his kiss further when his hand pauses at the waistband button. Fuck yes. Do it.
I stiffen as fingers dare to trespass below the waistband, slithering beneath the elastic of my panties as our lips clash. Though strobes punctuate the heady atmosphere, darkness and swirling dry ice disguise his actions, hidden in plain sight among the sea of strangers oblivious to his fingers crawling beneath the damp material to my wet centre. Curling under me.
Almost subconsciously, I angle my hips, tilting to open myself, moments away from him discovering the shocking level of my arousal. His touch tiptoes between my drizzling pussy lips and his smile lights inside the kiss as I gasp. One, then two digits dip between my liquid folds, and his straining erection swells against my body.