Breathe

"I've practiced on the weekends," Tyrone conceded, grinning.

She smiled. "Impressive. Dedicated when presented with a challenge?"

"I'm all in," he said. "As you've noted, I'm tenacious when I want something."

She shrugged. "I'm just surprised yoga would be something you would want."

"Hey, I'm all for anything that requires me to be disciplined and focused."

She walked around him to her bottle by the wall. "You're still giving off a bit of a caged-animal vibe, though."

"Yeah, well, it must be because you're holding back," Tyrone replied, "You're not pushing us hard enough."

"It's not a competition. Besides," she said, "we do this as a group. I try to keep things at a level so that everyone can participate. Leave no man behind, right?"

"Ah, so I knew you were holding back," he chuckled.

Tyrone watched her as she drank, her back to him. He leaned over a little so he could look in her eyes through her reflection in the mirrored wall. "So how about we leave them allbehind?"

Jenna swallowed and regarded him in the mirror. "What do you mean?"

"One-on-one sessions?"

She paused, leaning slightly on the barre rail running along the wall, still gazing back at him.

Tyrone kept on her, digging at the tiny notch he had just scratched. "Come on. You gonna pass on having me as a dedicated student? The Bull?"

"I'm not a teacher," she reminded him.

"Probably wouldn't be asking if you were one," he said. "I find teachers too uptight."

That cracked a smile on her lips. Jenna turned and shook her head. "I'm no expert in the slightest. This is just a hobby. I'm not sure how much I can actually help you improve."

"Jenna, in my position, I make the decisions about who can and can't help me."

She sighed, "The room is booked the other nights of the week."

"Weekends, then," he replied quickly, "You call the time. I'll even use my pull with Security to give us some privacy."

Jenna looked aside, grinning, swaying in her uncertainty. "Maybe Sunday, but..."

Tyrone pressed his chin down. "I could make it worth your while."

She shook her head. "I don't expect to be paid."

"Even better!" He clapped and rubbed his hands. "Shows how good a businessman I am."

Again she smiled and tilted her head tilted regarding him with mild suspicion.

Tyrone offered his hand. "Sunday afternoon. Deal?"

Jenna shifted her sleek eyes from his hand to his face then back. Finally she took his hand, noticing how fair her skin looked against his ebony tones. It dawned on her that she had never actually touched Tyrone before. Her appreciation of his brute, raw energy spiked instantly.

As they shook hands, he said, "This'll be good, Jenna"

With the slightest hesitancy he felt in her soft, pale hand, a deep hunger quickly manifested in his mind and spirit. Tyrone felt very certain about his words.

***

Now...

A dozen knots twisted in Jenna's core and a million thoughts bounced in her head like marbles on a tilting floor as she moved in guarded silence before the seated Tyrone. Her "flow" was less a circular ripple of water and more like waves crashing upon rocks. Poses which had previously been as easy as walking and whistling were suddenly awkward pantomimes.

"Balance on one foot, lift the other leg behind you, curl it up and reach for it. Curve your back and lean forward. Reach the other hand forward. Breathe..."

She felt the unsteady pulse in her neck and wrist, just little tremors below the skin, but they threw her balance off as if the earth was shifting beneath her. She hobbled unsteadily.

"Breathe, Jenna... "

"You're not breathing," Tyrone said, stating succinct fact.

That didn't help Jenna. It just heightened her awareness of Tyrone's presence, his eyes upon her.

She frowned. A gleam of perspiration appeared on her temple.

Tyrone looked on like a wall of granite even as he felt the swells of hot-blooded desire coursing through him. He trained his dark eyes upon Jenna. As much as he admired and appreciated her calm and soothing demeanor, seeing her even slightly unsure of herself, and knowing he was the catalyst for it, was something he found much more enticing, more stimulating than any lucrative business deal. It was like backing prey to the edge of a cliff.

"Some help?" Tyrone stood up.

Jenna's frown deepened as she stumbled out of the pose. "Ah. It's alright. I told you I just did this casually."

"No, it looked good," he said as he stood by her side and nodded, "Give it another go."

Chin down, she looked at him from the corner of her eyes. She rolled them upwards to meet his face, suddenly too aware of Tyrone's height and size advantage.

He stood there waiting. It was obvious that he wasn't asking her to try the pose again.

Jenna slipped her lips into her mouth, moistening them as she thought. Finally, she steadied her breaths, sought out her center, then moved into the Dancer's pose again. She eased into the initial position well enough, her flexible body bowing with an alluring curve along her back. All the while she saw in the mirror Tyrone watching her, holding her with his eyes.

"Arm out. Bend forward..."

Slowly her belly angled towards the floor as she leaned forward. Her head up, she stared ahead, past her fingertips, towards the mirror. She noticed how pink her cheeks really were, evidence of the heat building within.

Tyrone remained close, tilting his head noticeably. Starting at her foot, he scanned her body, up her leg, around her hips, her butt, her waist. He knew she could see him in the mirror and he made no attempt to mask his brazen glance. He didn't give a damn. As he painted her body with his eyes, he wanted her to see him do so.

Jenna froze.

"Keep going," Tyrone said.

She winced, unsure if she could even move. Suddenly she felt his palm flatten against her belly.

"Keep looking ahead," he said, sensing her startlement. "Keep going. I've got you."

Jenna began to speak, "I..."

"Keep... going," he interrupted with a stern tongue.

She didn't look away from the mirror, but tried to focus on her own eyes and face rather than the big, dark man beside her, holding her. At his beckoning, she settled deeper into the pose, pressing into his hand.

Tyrone liked the feel of her, even through her thin top. He imagined how soft her skin felt and admired the strength along her core. On top of all that, he relished the slight tremble he felt from her belly.

"Good. Mm-hmm," he said, his voice deep like a bass. He placed his other hand against her back, easing her even further into the pose.

Jenna's pelvis tilted past parallel to the floor as she stood in full pose. She would have been impressed if she didn't know she was only managing because Tyrone held her. Her core wasn't centered and when she tried to adjust, that's when his hand slipped down to her butt.

"Steady," Tyrone said. He cupped her bottom and watched his palm wrap along cheeks. She was a tempting combination of soft and tight. Unable to resist, he angled his hand, anchoring two fingers between her crevice molded behind her snug pants.

Jenna gasped at his bold touch, but held the pose maybe three seconds longer than she should have. She stumbled, releasing her leg at the back, almost falling on her face. Tyrone held her fast, though, and pulled her back. Before she realized it, she was leaning with her back pressed against his chest. She held onto his strong arm wrapped securely across her rib cage.

"I've got you," Tyrone said, his mouth at her ear.

Jenna hesitated. For a moment, she couldn't tell if he was just reassuring her or making a declaration. Feeling his other hand snake around her and then slide down to her crotch, it was suddenly obvious what was his intent.

"I've got you."

Ever the cutthroat opportunist, Tyrone seized the moment instinctively. He couldn't help himself. The woman had sharpened an edge in him he had thought he had been losing; he wasn't about to let it slip. His hand delved deep between her clenching thighs, relishing the warmth and softness his fingers found there.

In the long seconds it took Jenna to absorb what was happening, she found her body being touched and savored on multiple fronts. Along with the busy stiff fingers of one hand stroking against her lips through her yoga pants, his other hand palmed her breasts, fingers squeezing in and out, pulling at her shirt and thumbing the tips of her nipples. His chin shoved her head aside, allowing passage for his lips to clamp against the side of her neck. He kissed and licked her smooth flesh.

Jenna's head rolled back, a sudden, soft gasp escaping her lips, "Tyrone..."

Tyrone burned his scowling eyes on her in the mirror. It heightened the hit of the moment, seeing her melt against his touch as if he were a voyeur spying on his own explicit encounter. His desire was spiking to voracious levels and he was more than ready to unleash it on this winsome young woman. He felt alive and aware with a surge in every muscle, especially his twinging cock.

Jenna tilted her chin back down and gazed at him through the mirror, entranced by his potent, wicked look. So attuned to her spirit, she was shocked to realize how quickly it was succumbing to his lurid, virile venom. With each second she was falling further back against him. As he cinched her in tightly, she felt the lively flinch of his hot, stiffening shaft against the small of her back.

"Tyrone," she gasped again, breathless, "Wait..."

Her hands found his. At first she just held them, flowed with them as they continued their wanton indulgences along her body. She lingered there, feeling his fingers curl and knead into her flesh.

She swallowed hard and repeated, "Tyrone..."

His brows deepened as he continued to suckle upon her neck, darkening his eyes as if they were peeking through a shadow.

Finally she pulled at his hands, having to peel off his fingers while tearing away from her own unexpected temptation.

Tyrone let her go. As she stepped away, he felt his heart pounding within. The swell of kinetic energy within kept him moving, anticipating her, craving her.

Once out of his grasp, Jenna put some distance between herself and him, pulling away from the dark spell of Tyrone's dominant aura. As she readjusted her clothes and pushed back strands of hair, she turned her eyes away from him, away from the mirror, desperately searching for focus within herself.

Tyrone remained grounded, raising his chin and peering carefully at the back of Jenna's head. His broad nostrils flared as he took long, steady breaths, hearing Jenna's voice in his head reminding him to breathe and center himself. Her lessons were serving him well. His focus was a decisive pinpoint.

Without a word, Jenna collected her shoes and bag from the floor.

"Jenna, let me lay it out for you," he spoke to her as if he were brokering one of his lucrative deals, "You can go if you want. That's fine. But ask yourself, why did you come here today?"

A brusque confidence and command in his voice halted Jenna as she looked towards the door.

Tyrone nodded. He got her to stop. That was all he needed. "I think you know."

Yes, she did.

Jenna closed her eyes. She swiped through her clouded mind. She came here today to meet with this man, this brutish and devilish man who brandished his demands and desires as openly and assuredly as his thousand dollar ties. There was never any question about his intentions.

"Why did you come here today, Jenna?"

Tyrone kept his eyes trained on her back, watching her shoulders rise and fall as she breathed. Eventually, her arms fell to her sides and her bag and shoes dropped to the floor. Grinning momentarily, he tightened his lips and firmed his jaw.

"Turn around, Jenna," he said.

Slowly, she pivoted in a tight circle, her space. She raised her eyes to him, putting on a placid face to cover the crackle of nervous anticipation searing within. As he approached her slowly, she continued to search for calm in her turbulent mind and gut.

Tyrone cocked his brow and nodded. "Full disclosure," he said, "I don't do tender and slow. I always demand as much as you can give and more. You know how determined I can be, how disciplined I am in getting what I want, but I'm also not a patient man... and I don't do things gently."

Jenna drew her lips back. She swallowed quietly as she braced herself.

"I'm not here to take care of you. You have to do that yourself. All in or nothing." Tyrone stood before her, over her, invading her space. He peered down at her and said, "If you're not prepared to do that, I suggest you leave."

She raised her head and settled her daisy-petal shaped eyes upon his. He was as daunting and imposing a presence as any person ever was. She gave him her answer with her unmoving gaze: she wasn't going anywhere.

Tyrone nodded once.

A blink of her lashes was all the signal he required. His hands flashed towards her, seizing her face. He pulled her up and smothered her soft lips with a hard, forceful kiss.

Jenna stumbled forward against him, bracing herself against his solid body. As she gasped, his tongue quickly breached past her lips. The force of his desire sent a shiver through her. Like a trail of gunpowder it ignited her senses. She smelled his cologne, tasted the flavour of his tongue, and heard the hungry grunts and hums of satisfaction swell up his throat as he took her with his mouth. Overwhelmed, she was immediately in catch-up mode.

Tyrone's hand quickly moved from her face, to her back, then down to her round butt. He dug his fingers in, scratching with ferocity, streaking lines along her pliant yoga pants. He gave her rounds a stiff slap, massaged them, then spanked them again.

Jenna's brows flinched each time his wide palms smacked her, but she didn't cry out. When he pulled his lips away from hers and licked the side of her neck and face, she turned her head aside and breathed sharply through gritted teeth, recovering her breath.

Tyrone loved her taste and the feel of her smooth, creamy flesh along his slithering pink tongue. He dragged his lips against her temple and growled, "You like this, Jenna? You ready for me to fuck you?"

Her eyes closed, Jenna listened as if hearing the words of the Big, Bad Wolf. They were as harsh like his continuous spanks against her backside.

Tangled closely, Tyrone reached for her wrist and pulled it down between them. He pushed her hand up against his crotch.

"Focus on this, Jenna," he snarled, rubbing her slender hand against his long, wide cock, "Think you can stay so calm and disciplined with me fucking you hard and deep with this?"

He rarely vocalized his intent, preferring to just let his actions drive him. Yet now he felt compelled to stoke the fire, Jenna's feverish confusion serving to compound the excitement swirling in his core.

Jenna felt the heat of his hardening shaft against her hand. It radiated like a lightning rod, like every particle of energy was driven to a powerful point in Tyrone's body. She was at a loss for words, expelling only unsteady gasps of air. Reluctance pushed aside, she chose to chase a shadow of dark desire that had never revealed itself before.

"Okay," Tyrone said, "Okay." A less tenacious man would have been shaking and scuffling with this much unbridled lust bristling through him, but the Bull was focused on his prize and charged ahead with brutal confidence.

He shoved Jenna back against the mirrored wall, the small of her back banging against the barre rail. One long stride forward and he was on her again, taking his indulgences upon her gaping mouth. He massaged her bare shoulders then twisted each thin strap of her top around his fingers. With a rough yank he pulled the straps to the bend of her elbows. The athletic material of Jenna's top stretched but remained intact.

Tyrone scowled. No good. Not acceptable at all. He took half a step back, grabbed the collar of her top with both hands and wrenched it apart.

Jenna reached back, grasping the barre as her top was ripped and shredded by Tyrone's stern grip.

With a downward snap he tore it off of her and didn't hesitate to do the same with her sports bra. As he wrapped her tattered top around his wrist like some trophy, he cast a lecherous gaze at the tops of her glowing, creamy breasts. Small but round and pert, they suited her lithe frame perfectly. They invited Tyrone's hungry mouth and he pounced, sampling them with hard sucks and lashing them with his long tongue.

Her hands still on the barre, steadying herself against his lusty indulgences, Jenna pinched her lower lip with her teeth, stifling her cries of pleasure. She barely muffled a gasp even as she felt his teeth snap painfully at her stiffening nipples.

Tyrone moved down further, plowing the tip of his tongue into her velvety belly button. He nipped at her taut stomach, scratching at her skin covering her tight core. Then he continued downward, clamping his hands around her butt. Pulling her in, he planted his mouth against her crotch, and gnawed and licked at her through her pants.

Jenna tilted her chin up and pressed the back of her head hard against the mirror. She blinked her eyes, clearing the fog from her vision, and focused on the reflection of sunlight on the back wall, trying to ease herself down from the brink as his tongue fluttered along her line. Her stomach hitched and a wet surge suddenly escaped through her.

Within seconds the crotch of her pants were darkened by Tyrone's saliva and, to his satisfaction, Jenna's inner moistness. He lapped at it through the material, but then he wanted a better taste of it. He found a seam along the back of her pants and exploited it, gripping the material and tearing through it like paper.

Again, Jenna found herself clinging to the barre, planting her feet and toes, locking her wobbly knees, as Tyrone shredded her pants till they were just tattered threads around her ankles.

With almost ridiculous patience he took a moment to raise each foot and slip the remains of her garment off, giving her ankles a kiss before lowering them to the floor. All the while he looked up at her with a leering grin, admiring her nude body. He moved on her exposed lips, reaching up and spreading apart her tender folds and exposing her pink petals to his languid licks.

Jenna covered her mouth with one hand while the other gripped the barre like a vice. Her nostrils flared with loud puffs of air, but she was resolved to mute her groans. It felt like exquisite bliss, though, Tyrone's tongue slithering against her, within her, with force and zeal. As he teased her tingling clit with his lips and teeth, she squeezed her eyes tight, pinching a tear from each side.

Tyrone slid his fingers in, tapping more quenching moistness with stiff thrusts of his digits. His tongue swirled, lapping every drop. He couldn't deny how tasty she was as she continued to come across his tongue and lips in trembling spurts. She had such a succulent, fresh snatch that he could just consume all day. Still, a heavy frown crossed his brows. Some detail was missing exempting this moment from perfection. He rose to his feet.

Jenna felt his tongue pull away from her, allowing her momentary respite. She breathed hard against her palm and opened her eyes just as she felt his large hand stroking at her throat.

Standing at her side, leaning against the glass, Tyrone caressed her neck gently. Breathing against her flushed face, he asked, "You're not enjoying this, Jenna? Your body tells me you like it, but you're so quiet."

Jenna stared at him from the corner of her eyes. She didn't resist as he lifted her hand away from her mouth, only to return to stroking her throat.