Read Dance of the Crystal Online
Authors: Cris Anson
Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Adult, #General Fiction, #Erotica
“So why did you run away?”
“I thought I hurt you. Either that or you thought I was from some backwater town, some rube who didn’t know what she was doing. Which I didn’t, by the way, it was all instinct. You were standing there with a pained look on your face, your eyes squinched shut like you didn’t want to see me, what else was I to think?”
Heat flared from his eyes. Crystal felt the scorch of it from her aching nipples down to her damp crotch.
He bent his head forward and rubbed his lips against hers, slowly, oh-so slowly. Eagerly she lifted up on tiptoes to deepen the contact. “Now who’s teasing?” she complained.
Soren released the hand that had been pressing hers to his heart and brought it up to tunnel his fingers through her curls. Holding her head rigid, he thrust his tongue into her eager mouth. She relished the way his vision had narrowed down to him and her, mouths fused in wet heat, bodies as close as a pearl in its oyster, with the other dancers, the music, the smoke fading away until they were in a private cocoon of lust.
Someone bumped into them. Crystal staggered back at the impact, their bodies torn from each other.
Soren took a shaky step forward before stabilizing them. She realized the trio had shifted to a bouncy thing, a hot jazz beat, and people around them were doing a jitterbug, a twist, and all kinds of other dances where partners were flung around.
“Go.” Soren pushed her off the dance floor. “The ladies’ room is over there. Wait for me in the hallway.”
Crystal wobbled a bit as he relinquished his fierce hold on her, but managed to follow directions.
Through an archway she could see three doors, two with appropriate silhouettes of stick figures in pants or skirts, the third with a “No Access” sign.
Once in the hallway, she leaned against a wall, trying to catch her breath. She hadn’t sat down for at least an hour. She enjoyed dancing, truly she did. If only the guys didn’t hold her like an octopus, their arms and legs brushing suggestively all over her. She’d ordered a Tom Collins, she remembered that, an old-fashioned drink in a tall glass that she planned to sip over the course of at least an hour. She probably had two sips from that, no more. She’d love to have a glass of ice water. She’d love to use the john. But she didn’t want to miss Soren.
“Crystal.” Her name on Soren’s lips was almost a whisper. “I had to get the keys.”
He walked past her to the door that said “No Access,” inserted a key and unlocked it. “Come here,” he growled, pulling her into a cavern-dark space and slamming the door behind them.
Only then did he flick a switch. Crystal had to blink in the sudden glare of fluorescent lights illuminating a long, narrow storage area with shelves along the long wall, with no more than two feet of room to access the boxes lining the shelves.
“Christ, I can’t get enough of you.” He nudged Crystal so her back was flush against the wall and swooped down on her with his hot mouth. His tongue was everywhere, thrusting hot and hard, touching her teeth, exploring the roof of her mouth. And his hands, oh, his hands burned her skin as he shoved the bra above her breasts, scrunched the cropped sweater up to her armpits. He dipped his head and captured a hard nipple in his mouth, sucking, sucking as though he was showing her how to suck his cock, deep, hot and frantic.
Crystal dug her fingers into his blond hair, arched her back to offer even more of herself to him. She wanted everything at once, his mouth on hers, soul-kissing her, but also his mouth right where it was, pulling and tugging on her nipple that streaked darts of pure erotic heat down to the aching nub between her legs, one hand tweaking her other nipple between his fingers. She wanted his cock inside her, thrusting hard, his body heavy and hot on hers, pinning her, fucking her…
“Shit.” He withdrew his hands, his mouth, and she almost whimpered at the loss. “Give me a minute,” he rasped.
He turned to the door and snapped the lock. Eeek! She’d been in such a frenzy to get her hands, her mouth on him, that anyone could have walked in and found them indecently occupied. Then realized that this must have been how he’d felt in the cabana, and understood. He’d been protecting her, even at the expense of what Kat had called “blue balls”.
Before she had time to take a breath, he spun her around to face away from him. His hands snaked around her waist from behind and he snapped open her jeans, yanked the zipper down and ripped the pants down to her knees.
Holding her immobile with the flat of his palm against her belly, he swept a large box marked “cocktail napkins” off a shelf at waist level and nudged her closer to the empty space. “Bend down. Lean on your elbows.” He followed his directive with a hand to the back of her neck, forcing her to comply.
Crystal felt a sharp thrill of erotic fear—she didn’t know quite what to expect. Here she was, naked from shoulder blades to knees, in a locked room with a hungry alpha male, her exposed breasts swaying freely, her butt thrust high in the air as she put her weight on her forearms and elbows, unable to escape with the denim holding her knees immobile. And Soren was acting like a sex maniac, his hands now pulling on her nipples, now grabbing handfuls of flesh on her hips, his mouth ranging all over her back, her hips, his tongue licking the dark crevice between her ass cheeks and down to her swollen labia. She made a small sound of frustration when he withdrew his hands, but relaxed at the sound of a foil packet being ripped open.
Seconds later he grabbed her hips again and drove into her from behind, seating himself as deep as she could take him in a single mighty thrust. And stayed there, his chest expanding and contracting against her back like a blacksmith’s bellows.
Oh God, she didn’t want him to stop. How could she let him know? Would he think her too wanton?
“Soren, please.”
“I want you so much, I can’t think straight.” His rough voice thrilled as it scraped over her tingling nerve endings. She moved her hips experimentally. He withdrew his cock almost to the tip, then plunged back in, setting up a harsh and fast rhythm that had her gyrating her hips frantically, wanting him to scald every inch of her with his burning heat.
The daring of their situation fueled her need. She understood now why Kat wanted Magnus to fuck her in the swimming pool. The danger of discovery, the clandestine location, their private island amid a sea of testosterone and pheromones, heightened Crystal’s passion. She bucked against him, felt her inner muscles begin to spasm around his cock.
A groan started from the deepest, most feral part of her and surged up her throat, erupting into incoherent syllables of want and need. Only the tiniest part of her mind was still rational enough to hear the insistent knocking, and that sliver of sanity thanked heaven the door was locked.
“Soren? You in there?”
The climax overtook her like an avalanche, and she felt Soren’s hand against her mouth, silencing her cries, but her orgasm was so powerful, her teeth sank into the knuckles of his index finger as she fought to control the sound level emanating from this wild woman who acted nothing like the Crystal she’d been.
“Damn you, Magnus,” Soren growled under his breath as he fought the urge to keep pumping into Crystal until he too could find release. It was the most difficult thing he’d ever done, but after a moment, he stilled his movements.
“We need a magnum of house vodka.”
I’ll give you a magnum, right up your ass, he thought savagely as he forced oxygen into his lungs and loosened his hold on Crystal’s mouth and hip. Sweat beads rolled down his temple. A moment later he was able to stand more or less upright and rasp out, “Be right there.”
Damn, but his balls ached. He felt like the subject of an X-rated reality show. The last thing in the world he wanted to do right now was pull out. When the fuck would he be able to come inside of Crystal’s tight, welcoming pussy? Jesus, he was sick and tired of wasting condoms.
Then his sanity returned. He had his cock inside a woman who, until she met him, had been a virgin, in a public place where he might as well have turned on a blinking neon sign saying “We’re fucking like rabbits,” and all he could think of was himself? What kind of man was he?
With a Herculean effort and more regret than he wanted to admit, he took a step back and allowed his throbbing cock to slip out of her welcoming heat. Like a living thing, it bobbed and dipped, scraping the tender, sensitized skin against the zipper. He’d have laughed if it hadn’t stung. He, who hadn’t cared enough to have more than a handful of women in his lifetime, had been too sex-crazed to even pull his own jeans down, but had yanked his dick out through the zipper opening like a john in a crude porn movie.
Gingerly tucking his raging hard-on inside his jeans, condom and all, he bent forward and began pulling Crystal’s jeans up her gorgeous thighs and over her ripe, sweet ass. It jarred him for a moment that he couldn’t find panties underneath the denim then wondered, did she come here tonight commando, without underwear?
Shit! Had she expected to do the nasty with one of the bozos she danced with? He closed his eyes against the pain that such a vision conjured up. He’d kill any man who tried to fuck her. Or at least rearrange his face and send him to the emergency room.
When he opened his eyes again, Crystal had turned around, her mouth soft and pouty, her eyes warm and glowing, like she’d just had mind-bending sex. Her jeans were zipped and snapped, her top smoothed over her luscious breasts.
“I’m sorry,” she said, rising on tiptoe and kissing one side of his mouth then the other. “You’d better get your vodka and go before things get even more awkward.”
He brushed a tendril of hair away from her cheek. “Are you okay?”
Her smile dazzled. “I’m terrific. But I think maybe you’re not?”
Wondering if he’d be able to walk back to the bar without wincing, he said, “I’ll be fine. Here. Take these.” He handed her the key ring by the appropriate key and said, “Wait here five minutes after I leave.
Lock the door behind you then go to the ladies room. I’ll ask Mags to send Kat to see if you need help. I don’t want to put you in the position of being speculated about if we’re seen leaving together.”
With that, he grabbed a bottle, flicked off the lights and slipped through the smallest crack in the door that his wide shoulders permitted. He waited until he heard the lock snick before taking a deep breath and mentally arming himself against the gantlet he was sure was coming.
* * * * *
Watching her new friend tonight like an attentive mother hen, Kat had been delighted to see Soren’s unrestrained, single-minded jealousy erupt on the dance floor. And kissing her in public!
Way to go,
Crystal!
Mister Cool and Unemotional was well and truly hooked.
“Crystal,” she said more forcefully. “Let me in.”
Slowly the door to the supply closet opened.
“Are you all right?”
“Oh. Kat. Come—”
Kat pushed through the opening and quickly closed the door behind her.
“—in,” Crystal finished unnecessarily.
“Did he hurt you? Soren can be rough around the edges.”
“Hurt me? What makes you think Soren would hurt me?” Her gaze didn’t quite meet Kat’s. “We, um, only had the one dance then he went, um, back to the bar.”
“Crystal, sweetie, you’re talking to a pro here. That man would have fucked you on the dance floor if he thought he wouldn’t be ripped apart by all those eager would-be suitors. Yeah, he went back to the bar.
But as soon as he opened a cabinet and put something in his pocket, he went back into the hallway.”
She tucked a stray lock of hair behind Crystal’s ear. “And it took him fifteen minutes to come back out.
Must be the hair,” she mused. “Yours curls wildly the way mine does. Obviously it’s a trigger point for those rough, tough Thorvald brothers.”
As she’d hoped, Crystal gave a weak chuckle at the attempted humor and lifted her eyes to look at Kat.
“Fifteen minutes? It felt like an eye blink. Soren didn’t even—”
Her cheeks bloomed with two big red spots that delighted Kat. “Good. I thought so. He walked like an aging cowpoke who’d been on a cattle drive for two months. Let him work for his orgasms.”
“Oh Kat, you’re a riot. But why did Magnus—”
“Believe me, sweetie, I was pissed when I saw him leave his station and march down to the hallway. As soon as I saw him come back, I jumped on him for interrupting you. Of course, he’d already figured it out too. Said he was really reluctant to knock, but it was kind of a no-win situation for Mags. Three customers were tossing back Russian Kamikazes—the drink calls for three ounces of vodka—and he’d run out of the house vodka. It was either get a fresh bottle and incur Soren’s wrath or give the guys the expensive stuff at no extra charge and incur Soren’s wrath.”
A reluctant smile tugged at Crystal’s mouth. “Yeah, I can see his point of view.”
“Now listen up. Just before I came in, Soren did the “last call for drinks” thing. So here’s what we’re going to do.”
Kat spoke and Crystal listened, wide-eyed.
“You think it will work?” Crystal asked when the plan was laid out.
“You bet your sweet ass it will. Go to it.”
“You’re grouchier than usual, boss.”
Soren gave Trang the gimlet eye. He’d managed to make a detour to the men’s room to shuck off the used yet unused condom, but his cock and balls were still pelting him with major distress signals. And wouldn’t Trang be tickled to hear
that
from her grouchy boss. “Damn drinkers are going to make me lose my liquor license if they don’t hustle their asses out the door in ten minutes. Some of them look like they’re settling in for the night. Tell Mags to roust Booths Two and Three. Or better yet, send Coral to bus their tables and give them a nudge.”
“Right.” Trang chewed on her lower lip a moment, no doubt gauging how far she could push him, then without another word turned and hailed the waitress.
He knew he should start reconciling the till. He should be taking liquor inventory. He should be filling the heavy-duty glass-washer. Instead, Soren ducked under the counter and weaved his way through the tables trying not to look like he was looking for someone. Damn, Table Six had been bussed and wiped dry. Its former occupants, all three females, had disappeared. How could Crystal have just walked out on him and left him feeling like a sailor on his first shore leave in a year who was dumped on a deserted island?