There was something about dancing that made Vascha feel alive. The deafening rhythm curling around the edge of her ears, the primal thrum and throb beneath her feet. Bodies pressed and slithered one on another, the most basic of public orgies. Looking around, she laughed, throwing back her head.
Seth glanced at her with a curious expression. "Something funny?"
She grinned up at him, pressing against his chest. "Just a dirty thought."
He smiled and ran a single fingertip up the side of her throat, the touch never failing to send delicious, icy shivers along her skin. "One you'll share with me later, I hope."
Vascha flicked her tongue across his lower lip just once. "You never know, darling, I might even demonstrate for you."
His hand came to her back, pulling her tighter against him. "I look forward to it," he murmured, fingers moving upward. Seth caught his hand in the base of her dark hair and kept her head still as he leaned down. Her eyes slipped closed at the first touch of his lips, soft, warm, coaxing.
Then the next track started. Vascha felt the drums vibrating the floor, the heavy bass pound its way up through her feet into the base of her spine. Her blood shifted, the slow and languid arousal she felt for Seth speeding up and filling her entire body with heat. She pulled away from him, her hands slipping down his arms, Vascha grinning as their fingertips touched before she danced away into the crowd.
Seth caught up to her not long after, watching as she moved. She had a determination, as if she intended to immerse herself deeply in the music, vibrating with each beat, each moment. He slipped into an easy rhythm himself, content just to be within the orbit of her enjoyment.
Vascha threw her hands above her head with abandon, arching her back and loving the feel of each muscle as it flexed at the command of the music. She moved with her eyes closed, not picturing anything, not thinking at all, just feeling. Soon, she felt eyes upon her. Seth had a gentle nature, an easy way about him, and she could feel how he cared for her whenever he was near. She looked up, and his smile was there to greet her. She returned it, wondering if he were too nice, too kind. Sometimes she dreamed of aggression, simply of passion itself, and found it lacking. He was an attentive lover, and considerate, never left her unsatisfied, but on occasion, Vascha craved a more basic kind of lust.
She looked at Seth, extending a hand toward him as she danced. He held only her fingertips as she shimmered to the music, that same smile on his mouth. He let her lead; let her have her own space and experience. And Vascha suddenly realized it was pissing her off.
Goodbye, love, she thought instantly, shocking herself. She kissed his tolerant, generous mouth ever so lightly, a farewell. And pulled away.
Vascha turned her back to him and slithered into the press of bodies, hunting for aggression.
Seth watched after her curiously for a moment before following. There had been something in her eyes then, before she turned, that unsettled him. He slid effortlessly into the throng in her wake, reflecting idly that it was his constant habit around her, to chase. Normally, he'd have merely been content with the knowledge she was with him, and not have minded that she always kept him a step behind. But there was something in the air tonight, something harsh that kept biting at the back of his mind, which made him uneasy.
He found her, naturally the center of attention, sandwiched between two men who writhed in perfect unison with her. Vascha had her eyes closed, her hands slipping elusively along her sides as she moved, still forcing her will and making the other two follow her lead. At least I'm not the only one she pushes, he thought bitterly, surprising himself. Vascha leaned her head against the shoulder of the man behind her, arching her beautiful back. The one in front took full advantage of her curved position to slide closer and press her chest to her luscious breasts, the creamy curves sheened lightly with sweat where they pushed from the top of her top. She kept her eyes closed, but drew up her hands, undulating her arms above her head, before bringing her hands to the throat of the man behind her. She curved even more, pressing her hips forward. He brought his hands up to do what hers had left off, skimming her sides.
Doing what Seth ached to do himself, the dancer in front dropped his head to place a kiss against the swell of one breast, snaking his hands behind her waist. As one, they moved together, grinding and pressing, bodies vibrating with lust and pounding drums. Seth felt a dull throb behind his balls, the pulse of veins bringing his cock to life as he watched. He'd always considered himself too much of a prude to be able to share, but the sight of his love with these strangers, the slow dry fuck they were engaged in, was seriously turning him on.
He joined in, then, danced with his body on autopilot, trying to work around the discomfort of his raging hardon, just watching. One man kissed her neck, the other kept moving his hands closer and closer to cupping her breasts. She seemed to ignore them, like she was using them as a stripper would use the pole she slithered against. Seth came closer, his breath catching as he became aware of her scent, the smell of her sex even above the heady liquor of sweat and perfume that filled the air.
Vascha knew he was watching. She'd always been able to tell. She'd know the day they met. He'd stared at her like a man dying of hunger at the counter of a Starbuck's. He'd been handsome and his eagerness appealing, and one thing had led to another, with her taking the lead. She was always the instigator, always the one in charge. And she was sick of it. She wanted to be taken for a change. Consumed.
Bitterness and disappointment flooded her pulsing veins, and she opened her eyes. She sought him out, found him easily, and smiled ever so coldly, wanting to punish him. His face reflected his confusion, his arousal and his hurt all at once. She did a sinuous pirouette in the arms of strangers and began running her hands over the man she'd leaned against, teasing them all.
