Dancing with Julian is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. The moment he pulls me onto the dance floor it’s electric, our bodies moving together like they were made for each other. And just like when I was up on that stage dancing in front of the club, I’m having the time of my life. This whole night…it’s been amazing. Things have been so stressful lately that it feels good to let go, and I honestly can’t remember the last time I danced. Really danced. And now, with Julian, it’s so freeing. There’s a joy that bubbles up in me as we move, and that joy translates itself into my body, pushing the music through in new and different ways.

He’s not a bad dancer either, and as we move, I come more and more aware of his hands on me, the way his hips move with mine, and the fact that he makes no effort to hide his erection. He wants me to know that I’m turning him on, and I love that I am. It strikes me as he pulls me against him, grinding against my ass, that he could have anyone in this room. As the owner of the club all he would have to do is nod his head and three women would be fawning over him, and yet he’s still dancing with me. I spin out from him, looking around, and I see that I’m right. People are watching us—watching him, and watching me with him. But Julian doesn’t look around, he only looks at me. Dangerous heat sears through me when I see the lust in his eyes. This would be so easy. But can I do it?

Julian grabs my hips, pulling me back to him, pressing our bodies together. And just like that, he manages to make me lose myself. His hands roam down my ass, gripping me with enough strength to send butterflies through my stomach. Holding us together, he moves us in time with the music, the roll of his hips into mine making it more than clear what he’s picturing. He dips me back, hand running down across my breasts and stomach to the buttons on my pants, brushing them, the invisible statement that he wants to undress me right here, in front of everyone.

I feel like I’ve lost control of my body, my every move dictated by the way he’s dancing with me, my movements just a response. The way he’s touching me, I don’t want him to stop. God, it’s been a long time since anybody touched me, and no one has every touched me like this—like he knows exactly what will drive me mad even before I do. He lifts my leg onto his hip, never stopping that rhythmic rolling of his hips, and suddenly we’re in that same position as the couple from the glass box. He knows, he did it on purpose. The way he’s smirks at me, dipping my torso back again while our hips are connected so it looks like we’re still only just dancing.

When he pulls me back up I’m breathless. Julian’s hand is creeping lower, and I feel his fingers on my inner thigh, and closer. And then I feel it, a stroke of his finger down the seam of my pants that runs directly over my clit. A gush of wetness bursts from my pussy, and I swear he knows exactly what he’s doing to me. I want him. I’ve never wanted anyone like this. I’m not the party girl, I don’t do this kind of thing. But I’m here, and when in Rome…

And if I’m going to be that girl, I’m not going to let him have all the fun. I lower my leg, taking back control of the dance, moving around him, giving him brief touch of my body, brushing my breasts against his chest and my ass against his cock. I hook my arms around his neck, bringing his face close to mine, but at the last second I let go, avoiding a kiss. Julian isn’t giving up either, whenever he can, running his hands across my skin, and I find myself smiling at him as we play our game. I tease him with almost kisses, even going as far as letting our lips touch before pulling away. Julian growls at me, and I laugh, because I feel powerful. I feel sexy. Like I fit in my skin for the first time in forever. Like the fact that I have a man this hot desperately trying to fuck me is something normal in my life.

Julian wraps himself around me, a hand on my stomach and another on my breasts as we move with the music. I press back into his erection and he groans. It makes me smile—I don’t need my hands to make him moan. I spin in his arms, reaching up on my tiptoes to his face, and I move to make him think I’ll kiss him, to back away before our lips meet. Julian’s crystal eyes darken, the lights in the club making them almost glow, and he locks his arms around me. I can’t back away. “Not this time,” he says just before his lips crash onto mine. It’s a glorious, breathless kiss that makes the world flash white lights and my body tighten with pleasure, and then it’s gone.

We’re off the dance floor before I can even recover from the fact that his mouth was on mine. He’s pulling me up the stairs of the balcony and into a door that blends into the wall, and suddenly we’re in an empty hallway, the music of the club a faint pulse on the other side of the door. “Such a tease,” he says, and then he’s kissing me again, our bodies crashing into the wall because it’s the only thing that will keep us standing. His kiss is consuming, sending shivers through my body and it’s like I’ve been waiting for this moment for forever. He pulls back an inch from my lips, just for a moment. “Tell me to stop,” he says, before kissing me again. I’ve undone the buttons on his shirt, and I run my hands down his chest, marveling at the way his skin feels on mine. I trace the definition in his muscles and let his warmth seep into me.

“Tell me to stop,” he says again.

“Why?”

Julian drags his mouth away from mine, and we’re both breathing like we’ve just run a race. “If you tell me to stop, I’ll let you go, and we’ll forget all of this. We’ll pretend it didn’t happen.” He reaches out, traces his mouth with his thumb, “but if you don’t tell me to stop, if you let me take you, everything is going to change. I know you feel it. And if you don’t walk away, I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to bury myself so deep in you that you’ll never forget. I’m going to make it so you’ll never be the same.”

He’s right. I do feel it. Like something big is building under my skin. I know that if I let him fuck me I won’t ever be the same. But is that really a bad thing? Even if it’s just one night, I can’t ever see regretting this. And so I reach out to him, wrapping my hand around the back of his neck and pulling his mouth to mine. Opening my mouth, I let his tongue dance with mine, and I groan. This is sheer possession. I’m going to let him take me, damn the consequences.

He lifts my top over my head in one fluid movement, exposing my breasts to the air, and then his hands are on them, squeezing them, thumbs rolling over my nipples. “I’ve been dying to suck on these all night,” he says. “Do you know what it does to a man, seeing nipples like these through a shirt like that?” He squeezes down on them, and I moan, words completely gone. “Knowing that they’re hard because of me, just begging for my tongue.”

He leans down, running his tongue across the top of my breast, leaving a streak of hot fire. His voice is low and warm. “And while I’m sucking on your tits, you’re going to imagine that I’m sucking on your clit, and by the time my head is between your legs you’re going to be begging for me to make you come.”

I’m going to protest, tell him that I’m not the kind of woman who begs for anything, but his mouth closes over my right nipple and the words disappear in my mouth. Nothing but a whimper comes out as his tongue grazes across the taught peak, sending streaks of molten pleasure into my body and down into my core. Around and around he strokes, and damn it, I do what he told me to. I imagine that his head is between my legs and that his tongue is on my clit. He grazes my skin with his teeth and I moan, my voice loud in the quiet hallway. He knows exactly what to do with his mouth to have me arching into him, breath coming in shuddery gasps.

Julian moves his mouth to my other breast, and my knees go weak. I’m wetter than I’ve ever been in my life, and the image of him licking into my pussy is only making it worse. My fingers weave themselves into his hair, holding his mouth against my skin. God, I never want him to stop his touching, and that’s so unlike me.

“I don’t—” I say, struggling to form words around the way he swirls his tongue around the tip of my nipple. “I don’t ever do this.”

He doesn’t respond, instead sucking more of my breast until his mouth is full of it. I watch the way his jaw moves as he works me, and the sight of that is so hot I nearly collapse. But I need him to know that this isn’t a normal thing. “I never do this.”

“Do what?” he says, releasing me and smirking.

“This,” I say. “With strangers. I don’t go to clubs and just have sex.”

His hands pop the buttons on my pants, sliding them down my hips and off my feet. My panties follow, and the look in his eyes as he sees me naked in front of him is…feral. Raw. It sends a shudder of anticipation through me. There’s something about seeing him on his knees in front of me, somehow still in control, that is so unbelievably hot. When he looks up at me with that devastating smile, those blue eyes freeze me in place. “Thank goodness you’ve come to your senses.”

And then his hands are on my thighs and his mouth is between my legs and oh god yes. He pushes my legs wider, until there’s nothing holding me up but the wall and his mouth licking into me, that devastating tongue running up and down my pussy. I never know where he’s going to go next—a stroke of his tongue on my clit, a brush of his teeth on my outer lips, a press of his mouth on my mound.

My orgasm rises quickly, hot and insistent, pulsing in time with his tongue, pushing bursts of pleasure through my nerves. I brace myself against his shoulders, muscles shaking, unable to fight that sweet pleasure flowing through me. And then suddenly, his mouth is gone, and I open my eyes to see Julian looking up at me, a wicked smirk on his face. His mouth is still so close, and I can feel his breath on me, making me squirm, trying to make him touch me again. It only makes his smirk deepen, his hands like iron on my thighs, keeping us so close, barely separated.

“Beg me,” he says.

“What?”

“Beg me to make you come. Beg me to put my tongue inside that sweet pussy of yours. Beg me to suck on your clit until you scream.”

His words light a fire in me, and a flush rolls across my body. I want him to do those things, but I’m not used to them being stated so bluntly. I’m not used to saying things like that out loud. Julian blows gently on my clit, the stream of air sending a shudder of pleasure through me. I know he’s not going to move until I ask. He told me I would beg. “Please,” I say, my voice barely more than breath. “Please touch me. Please put your mouth on me.”

With a sound like he’s found the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, he does. Pleasure explodes behind my eyes and inside my body as I come. My body can’t resist the onslaught of his tongue as he fucks me with it, pushing inside and licking, moving to suck my clit deep and then back again. Wetness rushes from me and he drinks me in, wave after wave of pleasure rising from his mouth because he doesn’t stop. I close my eyes, blind to everything but this glorious sensation. My knees finally collapse, and he holds me up while his mouth is still tasting me. His tongue is swirling over my clit and sending sparks of pleasure through me until he’s satisfied, and so am I.

Julian leans me against the wall and makes sure I’ll stay upright while he stands, and watches me while he undoes his belt. What I felt while we were dancing wasn’t a lie—he’s huge. It’s the thickest cock I’ve ever seen, and I highly, highly, doubt that’s going to fit inside me, and I say as much, which only makes him grin.

He turns me around so I’m facing the wall. The cement is cool against my breasts, contrasting with Julian’s heat against my back. “Don’t worry,” he says, voice at my ear. “I’ll go slow.”

I hear the tearing of a condom wrapper, and then his hand is between my legs, stroking me. I’ve barely recovered from him using his mouth on me and I moan as he pushes a finger inside. “You’re still so wet,” he says, bringing that same finger around to my mouth. “Taste yourself the way I tasted you.”

Opening my mouth, he pushes his finger inside, and I do taste myself, deep and sweet on his skin. It makes me even wetter, and when he starts to finger me again he chuckles. “I thought you might like that.” Julian presses his lips to the back of my neck, and adds another finger in my cunt. “I love how tight you are around my fingers,” he says, pushing deep. “You’re going to feel so good on my cock.”

I moan, leaning back against him. God, he feels so good, knows exactly what I need, what he needs to say to make me hotter, wetter. He adds a third finger, starting to really fuck me with his hand, and I claw against the wall, looking for something to hold onto. He’s pushing his fingers right into my G-spot, and I swear this is what people mean when they say they’re seeing stars. Every thrust of his hand is sending me reeling with pleasure, more pleasure than I thought possible because I’ve already come. In the past, I’ve been lucky to come once before the guy makes sure they get off. This is…something else entirely.

I’m close, so close, and I tell him that, my pleas for him not to stop echoing down the hallway. And just like before, right as I’m about to go over the edge, he stops. I groan in frustration and he laughs. “I want you to come, little dancer, but I want you to come on my cock, not my hand.”

His fingers slip out of me, leaving me feeling empty, and then I feel him. The fat head of his cock presses against my entrance, bigger than anything I’ve ever felt. Julian eases the head inside me, and already my breath goes short. I’ve never taken anything like this. He presses deeper, an inch at a time, slowly filling me up until I don’t think I can take anymore. But I do. My pussy contracts around him, and he growls in my ear.

I’ve never felt so full, so possessed. My whole body is tight and aroused, and trying to get used to the way he’s inside me, and just like he did when we were dancing he wraps himself around me. One hand squeezes my breasts, rolling them until my nipples are hard again. The other wanders down my stomach until he finds my clit, forcing more and more pleasure through me until I relax onto him, until my hips are moving, begging for more. Julian moves his hips, out and in, and it’s like the world moves. His cock drags against me, and I’m quivering with the feeling of it, friction spiraling to where his fingers are on my clit and back again.

He moves again, thrusting a little harder and we groan together. “You feel so good, baby.” His voice is rough, and I believe him.

My pussy spasms around him again and he pushes harder in response. “You want to be fucked, don’t you?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer. “You want me to do exactly what I said, and bury myself balls deep in your pussy. So deep that you’ll never forget it.”

“Yes,” I breathe. “Yes. I want that.”

Julian presses me against the wall, and thrusts all the way into me, and I come instantly. A wall of white heat washing over my body and I cry out, unable to keep quiet in the wake of this feeling. He fucks me like I’ve never been fucked before, every thrust of his cock a brand new wave of pleasure, each one different and better than before. I’m utterly lost in the sensation. Nothing exists except for this, floating on a white sea of pleasure, cresting waves of orgasm after orgasm as Julian’s cock drives into my G-spot and deeper.

He pauses for just a second, turning me back around to face him before plunging in again, lifting my legs around his hips. This feels far more intimate, and somehow, impossibly, I feel even more full. He fucks me into the wall, and all I can do is hold onto him—his shoulders, his neck, his hair. I don’t stop coming, I can’t stop, and I can barely breathe because too much of me is taken over by this pleasure.

Julian’s voice comes to life as he fucks me harder, his grunts resonating through my chest and making me that much wetter. He’s close, and I’m already there, have been there this whole time. Suddenly he fucks me faster, a burst of furious speed that makes me hold my breath, fall into this bright supernova of orgasm one last time while he shouts his own finish. Julian’s cock pulses inside me, and I savor the sensation of feeling him come inside me. My mind is dizzy from pleasure, and even if he puts me down, I don’t know if I’d be able to stand.

But he doesn’t. He holds me there, still deep inside me as we both catch our breath, both come back to earth. Because I don’t think sex like that can exist on earth. Fuck. I was right, I’m not going to regret that. But part of me knows that I’m also going to regret it if I never get to do that again either.

Julian’s forehead rests against mine, our breath mingling as we both come down from the high. Wow. I don’t remember any sex in my life that was like that. Granted, I don’t have the widest range of experiences to choose from, but that still blows them all away by far. I smile, laughing a little, and he smiles too.

“Feel different?” he asks.

“Yes.” Because it’s true. Tonight I did something daring that I wouldn’t normally ever do. I danced at a sex club. I fucked a virtual stranger. I was confident and sexy and bold.

I collect my clothes and start to put them on, still weak in the knees. And it feels strange, after what just happened, to be in the same space with him and be clothed. Like now that we’ve seen all of each other we no longer need them. But the rest of the world—even if that doesn’t include the patrons of Club Deep—would be shocked to see me without my clothes. I have my pants on when Julian finally speaks again. “Take the job.”

“What?”

“Here, at the club,” he says. He’s almost dressed again and his face is deadly serious. “Be a dancer.”

I shake my head. “I already have a job.”

“Then quit.”

It’s tempting. Given how much fun I had, and the fact that Julian will be here, but this wasn’t my thing. This was Cosette’s idea, and I she didn’t exactly sound enthused when I was offered the job. She’s had so much trouble finding work, I can’t just swoop in and also have a job she’s worked hard for. “I can’t,” I say, slipping my top back on.

He grabs me around the waist, pulling me to his body. “What will it take?”

“What does it matter?” I say. “I don’t have to work here for you to see me again, you know.” I’m floating the idea of seeing him again to see if he takes it, and to see what his real motives are in wanting me to work for him.

“I won’t say that I don’t have at least some ulterior motives,” Juliann grins. “But you’re talented. We’ve found that dancers really boost the atmosphere in the club. The better dancers we have, the more fun people have, and the more money they spend. I want you working in my club because I think you’re one hell of a dancer, and I think it’s a good business decision.”

I bite my lip, thinking about it. I already told Cosette I wouldn’t take it. How can I now go back and tell her that because I fucked the owner of the club I’m taking the job? I can’t. I shake my head again. “I’m sorry.”

He’s silent for a moment. “Two hundred thousand.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Your salary. Here.”

My jaw drops open? “Are you serious? That’s insane.”

“I’m willing to do it. If you take the job.”

“You have that kind of money to throw at a dancer?”

He smirks. “Do you want it?”

With that kind of money, I could pay off all of my student debt in a year. I could move into a better apartment. I could stop worrying about whether or not I’m going to overdraw my bank account. “Okay.”

His smile is blazing, and I know that it’s because he won. “Perfect. And as for seeing you again, that’s an absolute yes.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket, “Let me have your number.”

I do, though I’m being distracted by the way he’s letting his fingers wander across my skin. The feelings he’s arousing make me want more, make me want to drag him out of this club and back to my dumpy apartment where he can be mine for hours. I hand the phone back to him. “Perfect.” He leads me back into the club, the music suddenly loud and piercing compared to the intimate silence beyond those doors. Julian leans down and gives me a long lingering kiss. It reaches down and stirs something in my chest and something much hotter down below. “I’ll see you soon,” he says, pulling away gently and heading downstairs.

I lean against the wall, catching my breath. I feel like I’ve been through a whirlwind, and in a way I suppose that I have. I head down the stairs, and as soon as I reach the bottom, Cosette practically tackles me from behind. “I’ve been looking all over for you! Where were you?”

Not fucking the boss. “Just wandering,” I say. “Have you seen this place? It’s insane!”

Cosette beams. “It’s amazing. I’m so excited, I start tomorrow!”

“Yeah,” I say, a flush burning across my cheeks. “So do I.”

“What?” Her face falls, and then looks confused.

Anxiety swirls in my gut. I want her to be okay with it, I want her to be happy with this. I shrug, trying to play it off like no big deal. “I changed my mind. After seeing how great everything was, and having so much fun dancing with you, I didn’t want to miss out. I have to come in early tomorrow to do my paperwork.” Or at least I hope I do. I didn’t exactly talk over those kinds of details with Julian.

“That’s great,” Cosette says with a smile that’s overly bright. “It’ll be really fun to work together—to dance together again.”

“I hope so,” I say softly. I really do. I think that this could really be good for both of us. “Do you want to hang out here or are you ready to leave?”

She gestures towards the door. “I’m ready to go. You?”

“Lead the way.”

The drive home to our apartment is a little tense, but I think we’ll be okay. I hope we’ll be okay. Once Cosette sees how fun it will be to work together, I’m sure she’ll be fine. That’s what I tell myself at least.

It’s just as I’m getting into bed that my phone chimes with a text with from an unknown number. I open it, and my heart starts to pound.

Thinking of you.

Sleep tight.

— J

Never in my life have I felt like a text message had the power to undo me until now. This does. Right, like I’m going to be able to sleep now that I know he’s thinking about me, possibly touching himself while thinking about what happened earlier. God, this is crazy. I start to type a response, and delete it. Again. And again. Nothing seems right. I don’t know what I can say that doesn’t sound dumb or childish. After a good fifteen minutes, I give up. I’m sure I’ll see him tomorrow at the club, and I’ve always been better with my words in person. I shut off the light defiantly. I’m going to sleep. But as soon as my head hits the pillow I know that it’s going to be a long night with those words echoing in my head. Thinking of you. Sleep tight.