An Erotic Collection Volume 2 Read online

  Lilly loved to dance. In a club, at the gym in aerobics class, in her kitchen while making dinner. She never felt self-conscious about it. Music moved her. If she wanted to shake and shimmy, she did it.

  It was different with an audience.

  A cock of hip, a twist of her ankle made the bells jingle. The scarves fluttered as she lifted her arms. Step, step, shake, shake. The music filled her and she spun until she was dizzy. She stopped, and the world kept on, moving though she was still.

  Zach didn’t move.

  He’d seemed like something from another world the first time she’d seen him, but now with his prick in his fist Lilly had trouble seeing him as anything but a man. And this, she discovered with something akin to wonder as she shifted her hips and moved closer, was not a bad thing.

  He’d changed, but so had she. Not enough time had passed for her to love him. And yet she did. Lilly would never have believed such a thing could happen. But watching him watch her, looking at his eyes gleam as she twirled and dipped, moving for him, it didn’t seem so unlikely.

  This dance had no steps, no choreography, and so sometimes she stumbled. It didn’t matter. She didn’t have to be a ballerina to make beauty with her body. Not when she was doing it for him.

  One by one, the scarves fell away until all that remained was the jingling anklet. She danced closer as the music changed. Again, she straddled him, her hands on his shoulders and her pussy a slick, hot channel clutching tight on his cock as she slid down on it. They moved together.

  His hands gripped her ass as she rode him. Her hips circled, grinding her clit on his belly. Their skin, slick with sweat, slipped and stuck and skidded. She was so wet she coated his thighs and belly and cock, so wet she sank so deep on his cock it would’ve hurt if it didn’t feel so good.

  Everything about this felt so good.

  Lilly moaned his name when she came. She pressed her forehead to his, eyes closed, breathing hard. Her fingers had tangled in the hair at the back of his neck. Zach’s hands came up to press at her shoulder blades. They rocked together a few more times and he shuddered with his own release.

  The music sounded louder when she wasn’t consumed with passion. The lyrics made her laugh. Lilly pulled away from Zach, their bodies sticking, and she kissed his mouth softly as she looked into his eyes.

  “Mmm,” she murmured.

  His stomach rumbled. They both looked down between them. When he looked at her, something had shifted again in his gaze. Zach opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him with a kiss.

  “Food,” she told him. “Then sleep. Tomorrow, who knows? Maybe the snow will have mysteriously melted and we’ll be able to get out of the house.”

  “Food,” Zach agreed. “Then sleep. But the snow isn’t going to melt by tomorrow.”

  Lilly smiled. “Then I guess we’ll just have to stay inside another day.”

  Later, Lilly curled herself against him and timed her breathing to the in-and-out regularity of his. It was the surest way she’d found to fall asleep. She was drifting into dreams when he spoke, so softly she almost didn’t hear him.

  “Lilly,” Zach said into her hair, his breath caressing her as easily as his fingers had. “I don’t want to leave.”

  She didn’t want him to go, either, but nothing about this had ever been promised as permanent. “So stay.”

  He didn’t say anything after that, and neither did she.

  * * *

  Seventh night, eight candles.

  She watched the candles, their flames bright and steady and strong. The candles in her grandmother’s menorah weren’t fancy and hand-dipped, but they lit her kitchen as they shone through the window to the world outside as prettily as pricey candles would’ve.

  “Pretty.” Zach had come up behind her to put his arms around her, his chin resting on her shoulder.

  They’d barely bothered with clothes at all today. The warmth of his belly pressed Lilly’s butt, and she pushed it back against him and smiled when his cock stirred. She turned her head to look at him.

  “It always is.”

  “Yes.”

  Together they watched the wax dripping, the candles burning. Zach linked his fingers through hers and laid them flat against her belly. Lilly was considering making something to eat-her pantry had been sadly depleted by this near week of forced seclusion. The weather forecast had called for warmer temperatures and the governor had called off the state of emergency, but tonight was Friday. No work tomorrow even if it all melted away in the night.

  Earlier she’d called her mother to wish her happy holidays and reassure her that she was fine. She hadn’t mentioned Zach. That would’ve opened up too many questions she wasn’t sure how to answer. He’d listened to the conversation but said nothing. Until now.

  “Your family would want to know who I am. Your friends. You have a life I’m not a part of, Lilly.”

  She didn’t turn, just pressed his hands more firmly to her belly and her back against his chest, her ass against his crotch. “We can figure out something to tell them.”

  “Lilly.” His voice turned her. His gaze, concerned, pinned her. “One of the things I find so appealing about you is your ability to find the brightest side of any situation. But my time here is almost finished. And there are things we have to talk about before that.”

  “I don’t want to.” She shook her head, broke his grip. Stalked away. “I know this is all some sort of fantastic, crazy thing. I know it, Zach. But why shouldn’t it be? Why should something that feels this good and right be anything less than fantasy? And I want to hold on to it for as long as I can. Is that so wrong?”

  “No.” He shook his head, watching her. “But we have to talk about this. My time here is almost finished, whether I want it to be or not.”

  “Why did you come here?” She threw the words at him as she backed away, her arms crossed. Wishing she’d put on a robe. Wishing a lot of things.

  “I told you-”

  “Why me? Of all the millions of people on Earth, why me?” Lilly demanded.

  He hesitated, but didn’t reach for her. “I want to tell you that you’re special. Words fail me, in every language, to tell you how I feel.”

  She drew in a slow shudder of breath that dried her throat. “But I’m not, right? I’m nice and all, I get it. Oh, I have a great personality and my body’s fine, too, but there’s just something lacking, right? That’s it. Believe me, I’ve heard it before.”

  “No.” She’d never seen Zach angry, but his brow furrowed now, his voice got low. Hard. “You are special. But you are not the only one. We are sent to where we’re needed. This world, your world…it needs help. And we are sent to do our best to help where we can. It’s necessary. It’s chesed.”

  Chesed. Loving kindness. Lilly took a step back, looking at Zach. Zachariah.

  He followed her. “At the beginning of time, everything was light, contained in the vessels.”

  “They broke.” So did her voice. Lilly knew the story, the Kabbalic retelling of the origin of evil. Grandma Lillian’s story. “Scattered the light here on earth. We’re supposed to perform mitzvot, good deeds, each one helping return one of those bits of light to its origin. I thought it was just…a story.”

  “It’s tikkun olam. Repairing the world.”

  She knew the words but hadn’t expected in a million years, no, in ten million, to hear them coming from his mouth. She drew in another breath, fighting to keep herself steady and unable to, until Zach’s hands were there to keep her from falling.

  Blinking to focus, she looked at him. Now she understood how he’d become so beloved to her, so fast. Why he’d been naked in the snow.

  Why he’d fallen.

  “Turn around,” she told him.

  He did, obedient. He was tall, but not so tall she couldn’t stand on tiptoe to pass her palms over his shoulder blades. His skin was smooth to the touch, but looking now in the kitchen’s bright, work-strength light, Lilly leaned closer. She stu