“I forgot?” she offered, but was met with one of Michael’s silent, unreadable expressions.

“You forgot?” she tried again, amusement in her eyes. Another silent unreadable expression from Michael.

“I had something else on my mind.” Maria couldn’t help herself. Something else had come across Michael’s face, something like a cross between desire and exasperation.

“You had something else on --” she wasn’t allowed to finish.

“Shut up and get them off.”

“Uh, yeah. Right. Ok.” If he put it like that, who was she to argue? She shucked off the offending garment quickly, deftly, and caught her breath when Michael’s hand stopped her as her lacy briefs were about to follow suit.

“I’ll do it,” he said, and she licked her lips nervously in anticipation. “I want the chance to return the favor,” he added, capturing her lower lip softly into his mouth.

Michael’s large hand closed over her smaller one poised at the thin waistband, and she shivered as his fingers passed across the hidden crevice beneath the wet soaked fabric. Her arousal was all too apparent. She’d been waiting all night for this. Michael knew she wasn’t going to let him take it slowly like he had done earlier. The lacy garment disappeared, replaced by his exploring hand. As his tongue probed the depths of her soft mouth - finding the taste of himself on her unfamiliar, yet strangely erotic - his fingers easily slipped into her secret depths below. She was so ready for him, arching her back and moaning as the throbbing heat between her thighs spread all over her lower body. His fingers were stroking her hard and fast now, moving perfectly in time with each thrust of her hips against his hand. As his fingers probed her inner recesses, his thumb was playing havoc on the most sensitive nub of flesh that had her alternating between ragged gasps and silent screams. With each thrust, she rode an ever-rising wave of sensation - no, delirium - but when his mouth and free hand attacked her hardened nipples once again, Maria gave one last thrash of her head and was lost.

Michael held her close, rocked her gently and stroked the blonde curls he loved so much as she came back to earth again, staring in wonder at the involuntary tears that testified to the intensity of her experience. He planted a kiss on her temple, tasting the salty wetness there.

“That was one helluva dance lesson, De Luca.” Michael whispered, one hand tracing lazy circles on her sweat-slicked skin.