Flamenco

I was asked to write a section of a story including a flamenco for a friend, this is one of the two versions I created

The band began to play and she felt the music in her chest. A pair of shoes appeared beneath her down cast eyes and a worn hand extended.

"Señorita, will you dance with me."

The words she had been waiting to hear all evening finally fell from his perfectly full lips. A coy smile lit her eyes as she took his rough hand in her smooth one. The touch sending electricity up her arm.

He led her to the dance floor, collecting castanets from the waiting maid before turning to face her. She felt her reserved demeanour melting away as the guitars awakened something deep within her.

She raised her skirts and stomped her foot in time to the rhythm, her movements echoing his. Their hands and feet moving in almost perfect unison, as if connected by an invisible chord. Their elbows raised high, fingers sculpted elegantly into that age old shape that came with the flamenco.

His fingers came came together, creating a second layer to the music with the high notes of the silver castanets. Her wrists flicking in time, causing her skirts to sweep around her calves, exposing her bare legs and feet.

The tempo picked up and the dancers followed suit, racing around the oak floor at such a speed the world around them disappeared in a blur of colours and sounds. Feet stomping, castanets chiming, guitars strumming, hearts beating.

Then their bodies came together in a flurry of material and flesh, catching her just in time he turned the fall into a part of the dance. Catching her hand in his and spinning her back to her feet. They continued their journey around the floor hand in hand, the lovers of the song brought together at long last in the dance.

As the music began to slow and come to an end he pulled her body close to his and pressed those perfect lips to hers, stopping her in her tracks. They pulled apart, breathless from both the dance and the kiss, her cheeks flushing red as she remembered how she should be conducting herself.

"Forgive me señorita, I could not help myself. You are so beautiful." his accent made the words sound like poetry but she knew enough about his past to be careful not to believe everything he told her.

She beckoned to a nearby waiter for a glass of wine and took a sip to gain a little time before she had to speak.

"Maestro, perhaps another dance?" she asked, flashing a rare, wicked grin at her partner before finishing her wine and rushing back to the floor.

After several more dances, each more intimate than the last. The night was drawing to a close and she was in his arms. Both of them flushed with wine and dancing he began to draw her towards the staircase.

"Shall we to bed señorita?" head fuzzy with the drink she merely giggled and followed him to his bedroom.

She stood in the centre of the room gazing about herself at the place she found herself in, awestruck. He brought her back to the preset with a series of light kisses leading from her earlobe, along her shoulder to the low neckline of her gown.

She felt her heart flutter and skip a beat as his hands began to pluck at the lacing of her corset and the pins in her hair. Too caught up in the moment to care about the consequences of her actions she allowed herself to be undressed and led to the four poster bed, where she was to be ruined forever.

No man would ever want her again but she didn't care. She was in love with this man; this wicked, evil man.