“Right now?” I shrug. “You.”
He lets go of my hair and throws his head back in a laugh. “Is that right? Are you in love with me, Nadia?”
I shake my head slowly. “No. Not yet. Maybe not ever. But I like you enough to care. I like Jordan enough to care too.”
He squints at me, brows furrowed in confusion. But he doesn’t know the right question to ask to get the answer he needs about that statement.
“Are we going to play or not?” I ask. “Because I’m tired.”
“Maybe you need a day to rest?” he asks. “To play your best game.”
“I’m good,” I say. “If you think you’re up to it.”
“Get back in position.”
I turn to the wall, go into second, and up en pointe. I’m not at my best. I’m very tired. My muscles are quaking seconds into round two. But… Jordan promised me something if I did what he asked. And I’m interested in that promise. I think it has potential.
Besides, Bric really is at a disadvantage here. I know so much more about him than he knows about me. I have all his weaknesses piled up at my feet. If he wants to fuck with my head… Well, he’s gonna get fucked right back.
That’s the only way to earn his respect.
“Do you have headphones?” Bric asks.
Headphones? What the fuck? “Yes,” I say. Hesitantly. “In the living room. Under the TV.”
“Stay in position,” he says, walking out of the studio.
I look over my shoulder. Listening as he shuffles around in the other room. When he returns he’s holding the headphones that came with the apartment. They’re good ones. The kind that cancel out noise and everything. And he’s pulling his tie from his shirt collar. It’s a red tie, I notice. My heart beats a little fast because I know what he’s gonna do next.
“Hold still,” he says, covering my eyes with the makeshift blindfold and securing it tightly at the back of my head. “I’m gonna put the headphones on.”
He does. And it’s silent. But there’s no music or anything. The cord just hangs limply at my side. And then it doesn’t. Because he’s taking my hands off the wall and tying them together with it.
My legs are shaking at this point. My toes are burning. I lose my balance and have to lean on him. His body is warm and hard. But he’s cold tonight. And for the first time I wonder if I’m making a mistake.
He pulls one headphone away from my ear and says, “I’ll be nice and let you lean on the wall, Nadia. Because that’s the kind of guy I am. But you will submit. I know how much you can take. I’m in control of you. So you need to trust me and obey. If you come off pointe the game is over and I win.”
He’s such a dick. He’s so not worth it.
But then I hear Jordan’s words in my head. All the things he told me last night. And I force myself to do as I’m told. Everyone has a breaking point. Everyone. Even Elias Bricman has a breaking point. And tonight, I’ll get him past that point.
I will break him.
“Do you understand?” he asks, whispering the words in my ear.
“Yes,” I say. “You’re in control. I must submit.” I want to add something snide at the end of that answer, but I hold it in. He’ll walk out. I know he will. He’s not in the mood. And I’ve already come this far. I’m practically there. So I hold it in.
“Good girl,” he says. “The purpose of submission is to enjoy it, Nadia. So just… let it all go and enjoy it. OK?”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I. Just. Told you.” Angry Bric is back.
I sigh, because he did. I just didn’t hear him. “OK. Just enjoy it. I can do that.”
“Good,” he says, letting the headphone cover my ear again. This time he flips a switch on the side. It’s not silence I hear when he does that. It’s that weird non-noise of canceling. Almost a thrum, but not. A vacuum sucking the sound from my head. I don’t like it.
But then his hands are on my body. They are warm, even though he’s so cold tonight. He slides them up and down my legs. Gripping my burning calves. I’m going to be so sore tomorrow. But his touch… it’s almost worth it. Because it feels so good. He’s gentle, but rough. Hot and cold. Every dichotomy at once.
I lean my head against the brick wall, the ragged stone pushing into the skin of my forehead until it’s uncomfortable. But then he’s got his mouth pressed into my neck. Kissing me. Pulling my hair aside to reach places that never get reached.
I think he’s talking to me. I can feel vibrations. But the headphones do their thing, so I hear nothing. I tell myself his words are consoling. My body is trembling now. All over. My legs burn and my toes… God, my poor toes. So I tell myself those words are soft. And nice. Something he’s usually… not.
A hand slides over the curve of my ass and fingertips slip right between my legs. For a few moments, I forget the pain. I forget everything but the feel of his words and his fingers.
But my shoulders are aching. He’s got them pulled tight around my back. Is it too tight? Is he hurting me and I don’t know it? My heartbeat kicks up a notch. I begin to pant, unable to control my breathing.
But the vibrations on my neck are back. His imaginary soft words soothe me back down as I realize he’s got his cock out. He’s pressing it against my hip and he’s hard.
And then he’s gone.
I panic for a moment when the heat of his body disappears. I’m out of control. My breathing, the pain in my legs, my heartbeat. Everything is out of control. “Bric?” I say. But I only hear the voice in my head and nothing else. “Bric?” I am thinking about all the things he might be doing. I am conjuring up scenarios. He left me. He walked out. I will stand here for hours, only to realize he’s been gone the whole time.
I panic and start hyperventilating. Short, staccato breaths take over my body. My legs are shaking so bad I want to—
His touch again. He’s back.
His hands are colder than before, but he’s back. I relax and let him have his way with me. His hard cock probing between my legs as his hands grip my shoulders. I lean back into his chest as he makes the skin on my neck vibrate again. God, I wish I could take these fucking headphones off.
He enters me, but at the same time his hand slides around my hip and begins to probe my clit.
It feels so good I almost forget how much pain I’m in.
His other hand grips my breast. Squeezes it hard, like he knows he needs to remind me what’s actually happening here.
I’m submitting.
Moans escape my mouth as he begins to fuck me. Soft and slow at first. But then harder. His fingers still playing with my clit. His stomach hits my bound hands each time he moves forward. I want to be free. I want to touch him back. I want to make him feel good too. But I can’t. I’m submitting.
And it feels so fucking good.
My legs begin to shake badly. I cannot stay up en pointe much longer. But if I fall out of it, he will stop. He will end this game and he will win and I will never forgive myself for not just putting in a little more effort to please him.
He’s everything I want right now. He’s everything I need.