THE BILLIONAIRE'S LOVER

29 | IN WHICH SHE GIVES HIM A GIFT. . .OF HERSELF

You don't have to put on that red light.

Every time her hands moved up to grasp the pole and pull herself upwards, Malora's head and neck dip downwards like a ripened stalk of wheat in the wind. The movement, she knew, had seen, was elegant and full of beauty. It was like ballroom dancing—all the grace came from the dips the dancer made before he took his next step.

You don't have to wear that dress tonight.

She got to the top as the singer's scratchy howl filled the air. . . Roxannne. Malora squeezed the steel between her thighs, the cold metal pushed into her pussy, and high in the air above him, she flung her hands out and let her body fall backwards into the air, her spine straight, her head upside down, her hair a waterfall around her.

You don't have to sell your body to the night.

For the first time since she began on the pole their eyes meet, locked. It was dark where he was, but what she saw made the breath leave her chest. There was a look in the aloof Billionaire's eyes that was starving hungry, but something else too. Something dark and raw. An intense desire blazed forth that could not be resisted and refused all attempts to rein it. Any effort to do so would bring insanity.

His eyes told Malora she was a goddess. That he had not expected such intensity, such strength or such skill. His eyes moved away from hers, boldly roamed her body. Slowly, deliberately Malora pulled her body upwards and she stopped thinking about him. She concentrated only on the music while she made love to the pole.

His eyes upon your face.

Malora twined herself around the pole and, with the same sinuous movements a snake made, slipped and slid down the pole until she sank to her knees with the pole against her back.

His lips caress your skin.

She stood and, holding onto the pole seductively, with pointed toe, high stepped around it. Just when he thought she was going to push her ass up into the air and sway seductively, Malora flipped her body over and touched the floor before grasping the metal tightly with both hands and lifting her legs clean off the ground. Her body iswas now in a spread-eagled position perpendicular to the pole. Held purely by the strength of her hands she started spinning slowly around the pole, her legs held as far apart as the hands.

It's more than I can stand.

As the music build and picked up speed Malora increased her speed, the air rushing into her face, hernlegs scissoring the air, the knees bending, the legs moving upwards, all the while spinning faster and faster and suddenly she was upside down and still spinning like a top.

Why does my heart cry?

A whole orchestra of violins and cellos went crazy in the most dramatic and sweeping ballad of the entire piece. She executed a turn with a bent knee and maneuvering herself upright on the pole began the journey up the pole, the same deliberate dip and rise.

Just don't deceive me.

At the top Malora prepared for the finale. She split her legs wide. Held that spread position, with only the tiny strip of wet red net fabric to cover her opening, and waited for the perfect movement. When it came she loosened her grip and begin her free fall head first.

It was like the death drop. Even over the music she heard him gasp.

And please believe me when I say I love.

Two feet from the floor Malora squeezed her thighs on the pole and halted her drop. She was face down and perpendicular to the floor, held by her strong thigh muscles and the strength of one hand, the other outstretched over her head. At the sudden clash of cymbals Malora released her hold on the pole and fell flat on her face to the ground.