Page 116 of His Turn

“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.

So I refuse. I lock my knees, and stiffen.

He stops. Pulls out. And for a moment I think he’s disappointed. My body language is all wrong. I have failed to submit properly and he’s going to walk out.

Instead he unties my wrists. My shoulders burn when they are released, and fall, limp, at my sides.

He places both hands on my shoulders and turns me, still en pointe, so my toes do a little painful dance as I spin, and pushes me back against the brick wall. I see nothing but the crimson red of his tie, tightly wrapped around my eyes.

Then he reaches under my knees and lifts me up, pressing his body against mine, then pressing my back into the sharp brick wall until it’s painful. His cock slips back inside me. I moan for so many reasons. My legs, freed from agony. My toes—surely blistered by this point—screaming with relief.

I grab him. I hold him. I wrap my arms around his neck and bury my face in his hair and make him fuck me. He goes slow. And he’s soft. Even though I know he’s neither of those things.

When I submit, he is, I realize. He’s soft just for me in this moment.