I enjoy the anticipation as she licks her lips and lowers her head into my lap. I enjoy it so much I close my eyes and lower myself back onto the soft blankets on the bed. Then her hot breath is there, a flick of her tongue. I feel her rise up onto her knees to reach me, even feel her body trembling from the effort.
She covers me. Devours me. Licks and sucks me. Her hands pumping. I place my hands on her head again. Lightly. Gently. And encourage her.
It doesn’t take me long. Either she’s very good at this or I’m just ready as hell. But does it matter? Does it matter at all when everything is so perfect?
I come in her throat. She swallows me, her throat muscles contracting against the tip of my cock. And when I’m done, I push on her forehead to let her know it’s over.
I open my eyes just in time to see her wipe her mouth and sit back on her butt.
“It’s your turn, Nadia. You were perfect tonight. And I’m going to show you how much I appreciate that right now.”
“Thank you, Master,” she says through her frown.
Perfection.
Chapter Twenty-Two - Nadia
What happens after that is just like New Year’s Eve, but without Jordan. He walks away, starts my shower, and then comes back into the bedroom, naked. He holds out his hand and I take it, letting him bring me to my feet. My legs are shaky. Hell, my entire body is nothing but fatigued muscles. And he undresses me. He takes off my bra, then makes me place both hands on his shoulders as he slips my panties down my legs. When I step out, he picks me up, carries me to the bathroom, walks me into the shower, and places me on his lap once he sits on the stone bench.
He wraps his arms around me and lets me rest. Just like that.
My reward isn’t going to be sex, I realize. And that is the best gift ever right now. Because I don’t think I can move.
“Are you excited about the house?” Bric asks. My head resting on his shoulder. My eyes closed. I am a big bundle of exhausted nothingness in his arms.
I can’t think about that house. “I probably will be tomorrow,” I admit.
“It’s nice inside. You made a good choice, Nadia.” He pets my damp hair as he says this. “I think we’re all going to be very happy there.”
“Did Jordan see the inside?”
“No,” Bric says. “I haven’t really talked to him. But don’t worry. He’s gonna love it.”
I picture Jordan and me and Bric. Living inside that mansion. I picture their cars in the driveway. What will breakfast be like? What does the master bedroom look like? I wonder if we have a back yard?
“Come on,” Bric says, after a few minutes of silence from me. “Let’s wash up and then I’ll take you to bed and massage your legs. Would you like that, Nadia?”
He doesn’t wait for me to answer, just stands up, taking me with him, and waits until I place both feet on the tile floor of the shower.
I feel like I might collapse. But Bric is there, one arm around me. Holding me up.
“Turn around and face the wall,” he says.
He turns me.
“Place both hands here, Nadia.” He puts my hands right where he wants them, flat against the tile. “Now rest like this while I take care of you.”
He does take care of me. Very good care of me. He grabs the shower head and wets my entire body. My hair too. And then he has shampoo in his palm. His fingertips massaging it into my scalp.
“Tomorrow we’re going to go shopping for furniture. We have six thousand square feet to furnish and I’m going to assume your place came furnished?”
I nod. “It did. None of this is mine.”
“It’s almost a hundred years old, that place. But it’s just been completely remodeled. I’ll call a contractor tomorrow and have them make you a ballet studio. Just like the one you have here. Better,” he adds quickly. “Better than the one you have here.”
He’s rinsing the shampoo out now. And then he repeats that whole process with the conditioner.
“Would you like that?” he asks.
I would. Very much. “Why are you being so nice to me?” I ask, looking over my shoulder.
I catch him grinning and decide I like his grin. Elias Bricman is confusing in a lot of ways. But then again, he’s very simple. He likes to be in control. And even though Jordan was filled with warnings when he came to pick me up on New Year’s Eve, I don’t think they were necessary. Because as long as Bric gets what he wants, he’s very reasonable.
Yes, my legs are aching and my body is spent. But I do that to myself every day when I dance. It’s a familiar feeling. A welcomed one too. I like exhaustion.
“It’s my job, Nadia,” Bric says. “Your job is to submit, my job is to dominate. And when I use that word, I mean it in all the ways you probably don’t. I push you and you give in because you trust me to take care of you. I asked for more tonight. And you gave it to me. You did so good.”
He leans down into my neck and kisses the soft, wet skin just below my ear. When he pulls away, I want him back.
“And Jordan and I have already showed you this side of the arrangement once. Now you have two real experiences to form an opinion. Twice we’ve pushed you beyond your limits—”
“No,” I say, waking up a little at the mention of Jordan. “He’s not here.”
“We’re both here, Nadia. I’ll fill him in on the details tomorrow. But the point is, we pushed you hard, you gave in—maybe it was just faith. Maybe it was just the fact that you wanted to get fucked. Who cares why? We don’t care why. The only thing that matters is that you did it. And when it was over, when your challenge was removed and you realized you pleased us, you got a reward. This builds trust. So next time we push you you’ll know what comes afterward. You’ll be looking forward to it.”
It’s a mind fuck. Conditioning. I know this. I’ve done it before. I’ve shaped the minds of men myself.
Bric is rinsing my hair so I close my eyes and let the water run over my head. Relish the feeling of the hot water across my face.
Then his hands are soft with foamy bubbles and he’s rubbing my arms. My waist. My stomach. My pussy. I wait for him to begin playing with me, but he moves on—much to my dismay—and crouches down to take the soap to my aching legs.
I almost moan as he massages the long, thick muscles of my thighs, his hands kneading the fatigue right out of them. I am shaking again. But this time it’s not from the adrenaline of exertion. It’s the drop that comes after.
“You need to rest tonight, Nadia. Your muscles are fatigued.”
I nod my head, too wrapped up in the way he’s making me feel.
He rinses me off and turns me around, then shuts off the water, grabs a towel from a stack of them on a shelf just outside the shower, wraps it around his waist, and then grabs another one and holds it open for me. “Come on,” he says, shaking the towel.
I brace myself on the glass surround as I step out and let him wrap me up in softness.
“Put your hands on my shoulders,” he says. I do. He dries me off. One square inch of skin at a time. Paying meticulous attention to every part of my body. When he bends down to dry my legs his face is so close to my pussy, I can feel his breath.